Cristina Collins

Neurodiverse Couples Specialist | Associate Marriage and Family Therapist

At a Glance

• Loved an autistic man deeply — a relationship that changed how I understand communication, conflict, and the many different ways people show care

• Neurodivergent myself, with ADHD, significant sensory differences, and a mind that goes all the way in on whatever captures its attention

• Nearly fifteen years with a Marine Corps veteran, navigating two nervous systems with very different needs inside one relationship

• Air Force veteran — Command and Control Operations in Germany, supporting five nuclear bases in coordination with NATO

• Master's degree in Industrial-Organizational Psychology — I studied how people actually function inside organizations before I ever became a therapist

• I won't assume eye contact, small talk, or emotional narration are prerequisites for a meaningful connection

• Lifelong scholar — degrees in psychology, industrial-organizational psychology, and clinical psychology, with a doctorate in progress

Why I Do This Work

I work with neurodiverse couples because I have lived inside the gap between two people who love each other and still cannot reach each other.

Most of the couples I see are not short on love. They are short on translation. One partner is communicating care by solving the problem, remembering the detail, fixing the thing, or telling the truth — and the other is waiting for words that never come in the shape they were expecting.

Both people are trying. Both people are exhausted. And neither of them has been handed a map.

Loving Someone Whose Brain Worked Differently Than Mine

I fell deeply in love with someone who was autistic. He was brilliant, loyal, and genuine, and he experienced the world very differently than I did. There was never a lack of love or effort between us — and yet sometimes we simply could not reach each other.

Conflict revealed those differences most clearly. When I became overwhelmed, I needed space and silence to process. For him, unresolved tension created an urgent need to reconnect and know that we were okay. So in the exact moments when I needed distance to feel safe, he needed closeness to feel safe.

We were two people who loved each other deeply, asking for completely opposite things from one another in the same moment. Neither of us had language yet for nervous systems, sensory overwhelm, processing differences, or mixed-neurotype relationships. We only had the conclusion each of us drew in the silence: that the other one had stopped caring.

That relationship taught me what I now bring into every session. Processing time isn't rejection. Directness isn't cruelty. Needing clarity isn't rigidity. And showing love doesn't always look like talking about love.

The Question I Ask Instead

That experience made me much less interested in whether someone is expressing care the “right” way, and much more interested in a different question:

How does this person actually communicate care — and is the person they love able to recognize it?

People don't all communicate the same way, but some styles get treated as acceptable while others get treated as problematic. Someone speaks directly and is heard as harsh. Someone needs silence before responding and is read as disengaged. Intention and impact can both matter, and that is exactly where I get curious.

If the way something is being communicated is creating outcomes you don't want, we will absolutely work on it. But we look at it as a question of translation, context, and fit — not as evidence that something is defective in either of you.

Neurodivergent Myself

I'm neurodivergent. I am ADHD, significant sensory differences, and a brain that tends to go deeply into whatever captures my attention. I've also spent time exploring whether autism may be part of my own story.

Sound especially affects me. Loud rooms cost me. Background noise doesn't always stay in the background. So when a couple tells me their worst fights happen in the kitchen at 6pm with the TV on and the kids yelling, I don't treat that as an excuse. I understand from the inside that sometimes the environment really is part of the problem.

Fifteen Years, Two Nervous Systems

I've spent nearly fifteen years with a Marine Corps veteran, navigating the impact of PTSD, stress, and very different nervous-system needs inside a long-term relationship.

That has taught me something couples work depends on: what looks like withdrawal is often regulation, what looks like overreaction is often a system already at capacity, and two people can be doing everything right and still land in the same painful loop. Building a shared rhythm out of two differently wired nervous systems is slow, unglamorous work. I know it from the inside, and I don't romanticize it.

From the Air Force to the Therapy Room

Before becoming a therapist, I earned a master's degree in Industrial-Organizational Psychology, studying leadership, organizational culture, motivation, communication, power, and the unspoken rules that decide whose style gets rewarded.

Then I went and lived inside one of the most hierarchical organizations there is. I served in the United States Air Force in Command and Control Operations in Germany, working within a central command and control environment supporting five nuclear bases in coordination with NATO. I advised senior leadership, coordinated high-level missions, and worked in situations where information came in fast, precision mattered, and there was very little room for ambiguity.

This matters more in couples work than people expect. Work follows partners home. When one of you is excellent at your actual job but keeps getting told to improve your “soft skills,” that lands in the relationship too — as exhaustion, as shortness at dinner, as nothing left over for anyone by the time you walk in the door. I'm interested in all of it.

How I Work

My approach is relational, neurodiversity-affirming, trauma-informed, culturally responsive, and strengths-based, leaning on Emotionally Focused Therapy and Family Systems Theory, and drawing from other approaches when they're useful. I don't believe you should have to force yourself into a therapeutic model — the therapy should fit the people in the room. I'm warm, but I'm also direct. If I notice a pattern, I'll name it. If something doesn't make sense to me, I'll ask. If I disagree with your read on something, I'll tell you what I'm seeing rather than expecting you to infer it. And if I don't understand something about your experience, I'll stay curious until I truly get it.

Who I Work With

• Neurodivergent-neurotypical couples caught in the pursue-withdraw cycle, where one partner needs space to feel safe and the other needs closeness

• Couples where intentions and impact keep missing each other despite real love and real effort

• Autistic men — diagnosed, self-identified, or still figuring it out — and the partners trying to understand them

• ADHD and AuDHD adults and couples navigating two very different attention systems

• Adults exploring autism or ADHD later in life, and couples renegotiating a relationship after a late identification

• Partners of veterans, first responders, and people in high-pressure careers where work follows them home

• Couples where one or both partners are experiencing autistic burnout, chronic overwhelm, or exhaustion from masking

• Men in engineering, technology, military, trades, science, and other technical or high-focus fields

• Individuals working on communication, boundaries, self-advocacy, anger, sensory load, identity, and unmasking

• Adults navigating anxiety, depression, grief, trauma, PTSD, or major life transitions

What to Expect in Session

You won't have to perform therapy “correctly” with me. Move around. Fidget. Look away. Take a minute to answer. Bring notes. Make a list. Tell me you don't know. Ask me exactly what I mean, or why I'm asking the question at all.

If your brain works better when you can see something written down, we'll write it down — a list, a diagram, a timeline, a concrete example. If naming what you're feeling is difficult, we'll slow it down rather than demanding an immediate emotional answer.

Silence doesn't make me nervous. Sometimes a nervous system needs a moment before the words catch up, and I'm comfortable waiting with you.

You also don't need to arrive with a diagnosis, a polished explanation, or a tidy summary of what's wrong. You don't have to convince me you're “autistic enough.” And the goal here is never to help you or your partner appear less autistic. Sometimes understanding yourself isn't about becoming somebody new — it's about finally having better language for the person you've been all along.

License, Training, & More

• Associate Marriage and Family Therapist, AMFT #156870 (California)

• Doctor of Education (Ed.D.) in International and Multicultural Education, Racial Equity and Justice concentration — University of San Francisco (in progress)

• Master of Arts in Clinical Psychology, Marriage and Family Therapy — University of San Francisco

• Master of Science in Industrial-Organizational Psychology — Carlos Albizu University, Miami

• Bachelor of Arts in Psychology — San Francisco State University; Associate of Arts in Emergency Management — Community College of the Air Force

• United States Air Force — Command and Control Operations, Spangdahlem Air Base, Germany. Advised senior leadership during critical incidents; supported mission monitoring during Operation Allies Refuge. Resiliency Trainer and diversity and inclusion leader. Distinguished Graduate, Command and Control Operations technical training.

• Clinical experience: Associate Marriage and Family Therapist, USF Center for Community Counseling and Wellness. Previously a Behavioral Intervention Specialist with Seneca Family of Agencies and a Family Advocate with the Family Mosaic Project.

• Published: Collins, C. (2016). Exploring Facilitating Factors in the Development of Global Leaders. International Journal of Business Management, 4(10), 446–456.

• Trained in Emotionally Focused Therapy (EFT), Family Systems Theory, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), and neurodiversity-affirming psychoeducation. Experienced in telehealth.

• Supervised by Dr. Harry Motro, LMFT #53452

• Employed by New Path Family of Therapy Centers