What We Really Fix When We Repair

For a long time, my mind felt like a chaotic workshop full of half-finished projects and dismantled parts.

Navigating life as an INFP with ADHD often meant feeling scattered, overwhelmed by the intensity of my own emotional landscape, and perpetually out of sync with a world that values linear, orderly progress. There was a quiet, persistent pain in feeling like I didn't quite fit the mold...a sense that I was somehow defective because my thoughts branched out in a hundred directions at once.

In those moments of feeling broken, I found an unexpected sanctuary: discarded things, junk, and resources around us!

I have always been drawn to the overlooked. Where others saw a ruined household appliance or a shattered toy, I saw potential. I saw a story that wasn't finished yet. My deep-seated need for harmony and purpose...hallmarks of our INFP nature... found a tangible, grounding outlet in the act of mending. Taking something apart, understanding why it stopped working, and patiently bringing it back to life gave my hyperactive mind a place to anchor.

This personal coping mechanism eventually grew into something much larger than myself. I founded the KakiDIY and KakiRepair community movements to share this ethos. We started hosting workshops where people could bring in their broken items, learning how to upcycle and repair them. It was never just about saving a toaster or a fan from the landfill. It was about creating a space where people realized that being flawed or broken doesn't mean your usefulness is over.

In September, I stood on the TEDxUTM stage to deliver a talk titled "What We Really Fix When We Repair." As I looked out at the audience, I realized the core truth of my journey. The act of repairing physical objects had been my alchemy. I had taken the pain of feeling scattered and transformed it into a community of healing. Every time I helped someone fix a discarded item, I was subconsciously mending the fractured parts of my own self-worth.

Having ADHD means my brain operates at a relentless pace, often leaving me drained. Being an INFP means I feel every failure and judgment deeply. For years, I viewed these traits as liabilities. The corporate world I navigate daily, dealing with commercial green energy solutions, doesn't always make space for this kind of vulnerability. But over time, I learned that the very traits that caused me pain were also the source of my fuel.

My scattered focus became the ability to see connections others missed. My deep sensitivity allowed me to build a community movement rooted in genuine empathy. The chaotic energy of ADHD, when channeled into a cause I believed in, became an unstoppable drive to foster a repair mindset in society.

Turning your pain into fuel doesn't mean the pain just vanishes. The feeling of not quite fitting in is still there, but it looks different now. It's the spark that started KakiRepair. It's the understanding I bring when I mentor new startups or chat with university students. It’s the simple truth behind everything I do: nothing, and nobody, is truly broken beyond fixing if you just take a minute to understand how they work.

For my fellow INFPs who might be feeling lost in their own heads or overwhelmed by a world that feels too harsh, I invite you to look at the broken pieces around you... and within you. You do not need to discard the parts of yourself that feel defective. With a little patience and a shift in perspective, the very things that cause you pain can become the tools you use to build something beautiful.

We are not broken. We are just waiting for the right kind of repair.