Hello world: why I built Tessolari

I am a full-time single parent to two children, at least one of whom also has ADHD. Juggling everything a single parent has to juggle is hard enough on its own. Doing it while it feels like you have an arm and a leg tied behind your back is something else again.

My own traits shape every day. I have time blindness, so I rely on alarms to remind me of things throughout the day. I have mild dyslexia. I am very easily distracted. And I tend to freeze when I am faced with a long form or a wall of text. None of this is a character flaw, but for years I treated it as one.

Forms are the big one. If you have ever tried to fill out a 40-page form from the DWP, you will know the particular exhaustion of just looking at the thing, before you have written a single word.

It is not only the length. I repeatedly fail simple online forms that ask questions about my life, because the way I would explain something out loud is very different from what fits in a concise text box or the one checkbox that is supposed to match. The honest answer rarely fits the form, so the form wins.

I am lucky to have friends. But there is only so often you can ask the same people to help with a form, an email, or a daily task, especially when those are the very things I keep forgetting to do despite a phone full of reminders.

What I wanted was something lighter than a favour and friendlier than a service desk. Somewhere I could simply ask, without feeling like I was using up goodwill.

I wanted a place where I could post a short, classified-style note saying what I was looking for, or browse listings from people offering the kinds of help that fit my traits. Paid or free, either would be a lifesaver.

What I did not want was the usual barrier to entry. I find joining new communities genuinely difficult. So many Facebook groups and private forums ask you to state why you want to join before they let you in, and then expect you to introduce yourself to a room of strangers. Those are not small things for me. They are the hurdles that stop me before I start.

The safety side cannot be overstated. I needed, not just wanted, somewhere that felt safe to be open about my needs and was built to be secure.

So on Tessolari you do not negotiate in public. Once you find someone, you move into a one-to-one, guided conversation, so you can feel safe engaging with a total stranger and share only what you choose to. Being able to be honest about what you struggle with, without that honesty being on display, was the whole point.

Nothing I saw online met these needs, so one day, out of frustration, I decided to build it myself.

It started more as a demo of what I wished existed than a real business. Over time it grew into a properly thought-through service that I run through my company, Be Braver Ltd. My aim is to step back from the non-existent day job, alongside the full-time caring, and focus on Tessolari. It needs to pay the bills eventually, so taking a small cut of the paid services people offer felt fair and natural rather than something bolted on.

Mostly, I want it to be the place where neurodivergent adults and their allies come together to exchange practical help, on terms that actually suit how our minds work.