Neurospicy Nuggets: How Our Quiet Moments Bother the Rest of the World

Picture this: You’re in your cozy bubble, minding your business, maybe lost in a hyperfocus spiral about the mating rituals of penguins or how to solve that Rubik’s cube you found in the back of the closet. Life is grand. Then BAM, out of nowhere, someone decides your peace is their problem. “Why are you so quiet?” they ask, like you’ve committed a social faux pas by valuing your alone time.

Let’s break this scenario down, shall we?

The Introvert vs. World

For many of us neurodivergent and 2e folks, social interactions can be like navigating a minefield with a blindfold. It’s not that we don’t like people (well, most of them), but socializing can drain us faster than a smartphone on 1% battery. So, when we choose solitude, it’s not rejecting society; it’s self-care.

The Unseen Labor of Silence

Ever notice how much effort goes into not bothering people? The constant self-monitoring, the internal dialogues, the energy spent trying to appear “normal” (whatever that means). When we retreat, it’s often to recharge from this invisible labor. So, if anyone asks why you’re quiet, feel free to tell them you’re recharging your social battery. And if they press further, suggest they try it sometime—for science.

Quality Over Quantity

Many of us are connoisseurs of conversation. Small talk? Meh. But give us a deep dive into a passion project or an existential debate at 2 AM, and we’re all in. So, if we’re not engaging in every chit-chat, it’s not personal; we’re just saving our words for the good stuff.

Boundary Setting

Here’s the kicker – our boundaries are not up for debate. If being alone feels right, then it’s right. Period. It’s not an invitation for others to fix us or drag us out of our comfort zones. We’re not broken, just beautifully wired differently.

So, how do we handle the well-meaning but misguided folks who think our solitude is a cry for help? Humor, my friends. When someone asks why you’re so quiet, you can always say, “I’m in stealth mode today,” or “I’m on a secret mission to observe human behavior.” It’s light-hearted and deflects the awkwardness.

Navigating the world as a neurodivergent or 2e individual can be a unique challenge, especially when our need for solitude is misunderstood. Remember, it’s perfectly okay to need alone time and to prioritize your mental health over societal expectations. Embrace your quiet moments as a form of self-care, and don’t hesitate to educate others about why these moments are essential. Creating and advocating for environments that respect these needs can significantly impact our well-being. Whether through humor, open communication, or setting clear boundaries, we can help others understand that our solitude is not a problem to be fixed but a vital part of who we are.