Embracing my neurodivergence is so much about two things.
Allowing myself to care about what I care about.
Allowing myself not to care about what I don’t care about.
Even as I feel an exhale of relief in the liberation of writing these words, I have to acknowledge that there are very real risks that come with unmasking. Discovering my ADHD and autism in my late 30's/early 40’s presented challenges to the person I thought I was — and who others believed me to be. It’s taking me time to unravel it all and see the deeper layers of just how I’ve been hiding — and why I can no longer do it.
The fear of losing people you love because you are different
Unmasking with my partner can be scary.
He is so accepting of my quirks, for the most part, but I can tell he finds certain things about me frustrating or inconvenient. It hurts that most, if not all, of those things are related to my brain wiring and feel like things I can’t fundamentally change — though I’m slowly learning to communicate better about my needs in the moment.
Since beginning to be fully aware of my autism traits, in particular, I have found that I can no longer override myself and pretend that I’m in the mood for something when I’m not.
I’ve discovered that I need copious amounts of space and time in order to relax into connecting with another human being on an intimate level.
Whereas before, I could often ‘just make myself’, then suffer the overwhelm and shame consequences later (yes, I’m not proud of that — but that’s what happens with masking), the override button has become increasingly inaccessible.
Recently, I had something scheduled in the morning and another thing in the diary for the evening — and in my partner’s company, I simply couldn’t turn the Relaxation Dial on in-between, even though, technically, there was enough ‘time’.
This is a frequent topic in my neurodivergent circles: the way the appointment at 3pm looms large over the entire day, making focus on anything substantial feel out of reach until that hour has been and gone.
Executive function that affects the perception of time and the ability to prioritise, start and complete tasks are also negatively affected by ADHD, making it even more vital to, as much as humanly possible, keep most of the limited ‘spoons’ of focus and attention for the things I really care about …
Writing, time in nature, connecting with close friends and singing/songwriting.
Dropping the ball at work
This week, I can feel another ‘clear the clutter’ phase coming on.
Loosening my grip on things that once felt important, providing necessary identity-boosts, but now simply distract, overwhelm and frustrate. Itty-bitty little jobs that bring in some slight income streams, sure, but take far more headspace than they are worth.
And it’s scary. Because these people are going to be displeased when I break the news.
In my unmasking process, my inner people pleaser is experiencing an uncomfortable demotion. Devon Price, in ‘Unmasking Autism’, explores how the ‘fawn’ response, where we mold ourselves to fit the person we are interacting with in an attempt to stay safe, is a common survival strategy of autistic folks.
This is because, as neurodivergent people, we typically receive so much feedback that the way we are is too strange or unacceptable in some way. Our natural, hard-wired need to belong kicks in, and we shave off parts of our personality that are inconvenient for others.
Recently, though, I have been finding that my strong drive to devote my limited energy and resources to what I most care about is starting to win over the looming force of the People Pleaser (and the inner Slavedriver — but that’s another story).
Being so easily fatigued, through sensory sensitivity and the constant deeper processing that my brain engages in, can be incredibly frustrating. I can wake up in the morning full of ideas and enthusiasm, only to often need to go back to bed for a spell by 11 am, by the time I’ve dealt with all my morning routines, necessary communication with the outside world, and domestic tasks.
But the hidden blessing of this easily emptied tank (despite all the yoga, meditation, and supplements!) is that I have to be ruthless with what I give my energy to. And that means I am focusing in on what matters most.
I can’t phrase this next one as a risk or a negative — yet it does feel a bit edgy sometimes.
Wholeheartedly diving into my special interests
It’s only recently that I realised how much I was toning down the things I love to do. I didn’t like to talk about a favourite book, or my current obsession with Wales and Welsh, or what I’m learning about heart-centred business and content creation, because I felt as if I had about a 2-minute bandwidth in the listener’s brain. It was too painful to face the potential rejection — so I hid my interests, which started to create a distance between me and others.
As a child, I remember my mother saying, “You don’t have to tell me the whole story,” when I came home excitedly from the cinema, overflowing with plot details of the latest Disney film. “But I want to!” I insisted, but I soon learned to shut up.
My partner, who’s also neurodivergent in his own ways, can get overwhelmed when I talk for too long or too excitedly, which used to be very upsetting for me. So we have worked out a way where we each have a certain amount of time to do an ‘infodump’ of our day — a full share on how it’s gone, without interruption — and then the other reflects back what they’ve heard. We then often flow into a more two-way discussion. It’s not a complete solution, but it’s a step in the right direction, and I’m healing that part of me that used to think no-one cared.
And through this, I’m allowing myself to invest more deeply in my interests and unapologetically dive in whenever I can.
I’m also getting so much out of sharing my thoughts and insights here on Medium, and receiving responses — it’s incredible to be able to connect with people all over the world in this way, in my own voice. My weekly autistic zoom group, which I co-facilitate, is another space where I can share my passions (and my struggles) and be met.
There’s so much more I want to share about the unmasking journey. If you’re curious to read more, here’s my article on ‘Fooling’ and how it’s helping me embrace my true self — or selves. More to come soon!
Join me over at Wildmuse Portal to explore a life of authenticity, creative expression and nature connection, and check out my book, ‘The Wild Wandering Arc: A Journey through Vanlife, Nature & Love’.