Today I had to go to the building store.
Not my usual habitat, but the guy who was installing a new wood burner in my off-grid caravan had asked me to get some fire board for protection of the surrounding area.
Simple, right? Go up to the guy at the desk and ask for some fire board. That was the plan.
Before I stepped in, at 8:30 am on a grey West Wales Monday morning, I consulted my to-do list. Keeping meticulous notes on the notes app of my Android phone of anything vaguely technical or practical is the only way I keep my caravan, and life in general, running. I rehearsed what I would ask for, mouthing the words, only slightly concerned that a nearby builder might think I was a bit nuts.
I stepped relatively confidently into the alien environment with its wood shaving smells and extremely masculine vibe. I felt prepared.
It took a while for the guy at the back desk to notice me, and when he did, he merely greeted me, rather than stepping forward to the front desk to serve me. Eventually, he said, “Hi?” in a way that suggested he wondered if I needed help.
I realised that he had expected me to walk around the shop, perusing for what I wanted.
That’s not what I do.
I cannot look at shelves full of things I don’t understand and find the thing I don’t know how to identify. When I was eight and was first assessed for what they thought were learning difficulties (well, I guess they are, but it puzzled everyone because I was an early reader and prolific writer…), one of the things observed was that I couldn’t find things in a ‘busy’ drawer full of stuff.
My brain doesn’t work that way.
“Yeah, um, I don’t know what I’m doing,” I blurted, immediately blowing my ‘adulting’ cover. Oh well.
A couple of minutes later, we were standing in the warehouse portion of the shop, looking at a high pile of plaster board. “Do you want cement fire board or plaster fire board? And 6mm or 12mm?”
Uh… er…
I looked at my list again, but it told me nothing. Why can’t people just be really, really specific? I tried to ring the woodburner installation guy, but the signal was crap, and we kept getting cut off before I could get an answer. “Sorry,” I said to the polite, waiting store clerk, “I’ll get back to you.”
But I didn’t panic.
You see, I’ve learned that these situations are invariably complicated for me.
I no longer expect them to be easy. And so I don’t need to go into a state of fight-or-flight anymore, because I just don’t expect my dignity to remain intact throughout the whole thing.
Side note: getting the right thing from the store isn’t even the beginning of it. It’s finding the store in the first place.
I had driven around the industrial complex with clearly named and numbered units three times, asked directions twice and also three-point-turn manoeuvred my car twice before I managed to eventually find the building supply store. The first woman I asked directions from said cheerfully, “It’s right near X store. You can’t miss it!” and I said, “Oh but I did!” She pretended she hadn’t heard me.
For my entire life, it’s been like this. Things that are simple and ‘oh but you just do this’ for most other people, are hard for me. And things that are hard for some others, like figuring out certain types of tech or anything to do with the written word, or penetrating deep into someone’s soul, are natural for me.
Unfortunately, the second category of things isn’t much involved in day to day life. It’s the other stuff we need to know.
~ How to find things and places.
~Remembering any information (other than psychological, emotional or spiritual content…) that’s been relayed to me verbally, without taking detailed notes and referring to them later. And even then, I may not be able to connect to them or remember the context enough to understand the info.
~ Understanding what information is there and what is missing, and what information I need to ask for.
~ Identifying objects, figuring out dimensions and understanding or remembering the spatial relationships of things to each other.
My brain just says, Nope.
The difference now is, I now know why I struggle with these things. I have ADHD, am autistic and am also dyspraxic.
I have hidden disabilities that I used to think were my personal failings. Maybe I just ‘wasn’t paying attention’ (my head was always in a book, but that’s because I could understand that world). Maybe I was just lazy, or, well …
As I drove away from the building store this morning (without the fireboard… but that’s another story), I noticed that I wasn’t berating myself with the kinds of words I used to use for myself.
Stupid. Retarded. Useless. Pathetic.
It hurts me now to think I used to call myself these things, without even thinking. I had internalised what was said to me so long ago that it had become an automatic part of my inner vocabulary and self-concept.
And it was a milestone moment to realise that that language, along with the deep visceral feeling of embarrassment throughout my body, is now a thing of the past. I now accept myself so much more than I used to. I no longer need to go into a shame spiral that touches on the humiliation of bullying and teasing I received as a child on a grindingly regular basis.
I can just be me, bumbling along, doing my best and fucking it up, getting things mixed up, and it’s OK. Even if people do think I’m stupid. I know I’m not, and I also know what I need to make these situations a bit easier.
What helped me get there?
2.5 years of deep digging into my neurodivergence and reading a lot of the articles here on Medium on the topic (like Jackie Schuld, Jillian Enright, The Autistic Burnout 🔥 and The Unmasked Autistic).
Watching YouTubers like AuDHD-er Yo Samdy Sam.
Reading books like Devon Price’s ‘Unmasking Autism: The Power of Embracing our Hidden Neurodiversity’, ‘What I Mean when I Say I’m Autistic: Unpuzzling a Life on the Spectrum’ by Annie Kotowicz and ‘Dirty Laundry: Why Adults with ADHD are so Ashamed and What We Can Do to Help’ by Richard Pink and Roxanne Emery.
Through these resources, and talking to other friends with the same disabilities, I discovered that the way my brain is set up to build from building blocks of detail up to the ‘bigger picture’, rather than the other way around like non-autistic brains, means I’m great at perceiving and working with certain things and really struggle with others.
I learned that my difficulties with executive function — planning, problem-solving, emotional regulation and task prioritisation — due to differences in connection between different parts of my brain, that are common to ADHD, are a real thing, and not something to be dismissed or impatiently laughed at. They are something I need to build and work around, with lots of patience with myself.
Then there’s Inner Child work, and more recently, Internal Family Systems work, which I love. The book ‘No Bad Parts’ by Richard Schwartz is a go-to, and six sessions of Voice Dialogue helped me a huge amount with self-compassion. These frameworks help me to separate out, rather than identify with, the part of me that’s feeling incompetent or ashamed, and to give that part the nurturing and acceptance she needs. It also stops me from over-identifying with the Inner Critic, which I used to think was me.
I focus on embracing my gifts and what I enjoy, rather than overly ruminating on what I can’t do. Writing more, singing more, and sharing these with others when it feels right. This brings me joy and connection. I remember that I don’t have to fit my round peg in the square hole; I can find and create the places I belong and where I resonate.
If you’re someone who feels ‘different’ in some way, what helps you with self-acceptance?
Want to read more of my writing?
You can also dive into my book, ‘The Wild Wandering Arc: A Journey through Vanlife, Nature & Love’, and join me over on Wildmuse Portal where I explore how to live a more authentic, nature-connected life of freedom and creative expression.
Are you, or do you know, a neurodivergent woman? Together with a fellow ‘neurospicy’ friend and collaborator, Sabine Glatzer, I am putting together resources for neurodivergent women to create new foundations in their lives. You can sign up for updates here or follow us on Facebook and Instagram.