Superheroes Don't Always Fly

"But she doesn't look Autistic"

If I had ￡1 every time someone's said this about my ADHD and Austistic daughter since her recent diagnosis.

In this supposedly mental health-aware society, we still demand proof before believing someone's struggles. The need to show evidence persists because our issues aren't visible to the naked eye.

The world is built for neurotypicals

Societal norms, educational systems and workplaces are designed for the majority. Neurodivergent needs are overlooked or poorly supported, while neurotypicals thrive. This needs to change.

Years, even decades, of masking (to cope) and mirroring (to fit in) often result in neurodivergent individuals facing an uphill battle to validate their recent diagnosis to their peers, despite having spent years awaiting it.

As if a lifetime of masking wasn't exhausting enough (ask an actor how hard it is to remain in character 24/7), you now have a phone book of doubters to convince, after all, you were 'fine until now'—it's's exasperating.

I've been abstaining from the neuro conversation; it's too close to home, but I've heard too many?'we're all a bit ADHD' quips.

No, we're not all ADHD or OCD. These are debilitating issues, more than just liking a tidy home or having a moment of excess energy.

We are all neuro-diverse, as in: we are all different and individual. It's what makes the world go round. But we are not all 'divergent', that's entirely different.

The flippant 'autism is a superpower' adage is b/s and belittles the all-encompassing mental crutch that neurodivergents?endure both awake and asleep (yes, ADHD noise continues during sleep, if you managed to get to sleep, that is).

Which version of me, is me?

To truly empathise requires?BEING or living in the head of a neurodivergent. Since that's not possible, the 'typicals can do real research, listen to what their divergent friends and peers struggle with. Simple changes = big help.

Neurodiverse 'issues' are over 80% hereditary, and the guilt of likely passing down those chromosomes is real.

Navigating my neurodivergent journey at 40 and finding some rationale for my past words or actions brings some comfort. ADHD-ers often experience heightened anxiety, vividly replaying on loop various life scenarios from years ago, wincing at those moments of oversharing or choice of words.

Yet, I'm grateful that my own journey has allowed me a better sense of understanding for my daughter, given that empathy is not my strong suit.

But if I'm honest, the diagnosis at my age gives me a feeling of?character?assassination—a kind of persona limbo. Which version of me, is me?

Sure, being neurodivergent can bring certain gifts, like creativity, in the right environment. However, honestly, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. This article was started over a week ago, but I can't finish anything (thank you, ADHD).

I've rewritten it dozens of times, agonising over every detail, dreading the inevitable rejection when so few respond or engage after it's made public, cheers to ASD and RSD.

I do however, embrace the catharsis that comes with writing about my own life so publicly, so any resulting response is not my target.

Why public, why now? What's my point?

If my 12-year-old daughter can embrace her label and bravely wear the badge, then at 40, I can use my expertise in recruitment to spread my take on the working landscape. Admittedly, sharing my personal life so publicly was a tough decision.

I hope to leverage my experiences and knowledge to support candidates through the hiring process, employment issues and career advice. Clients also deserve a hand, and I aim to show how accommodating neurodiversity can benefit workplaces. I'm here for it, despite any silent judgement on this soapbox of an article.

But in summary; the neurodiverse 'me too' bandwagon, needs to go.

I'm looking forward to sharing my experience and advice in my future posts and articles. Till then, stay neurospicy, you're in good company. ??