I was an undiagnosed neurodivergent child. I will always get my numbers backwards, even till this day. We undiagnosed neurodivergents went through the whole self hate period as we could not understand why we were the way we were. The anger at not being disciplined enough when discipline had nothing to do with it. Why do I overshare, why did I just do that? There is pain, confusion and frustration when a simple diagnosis could explain so much. So I guess both being diagnosed and misunderstood and being undiagnosed and misunderstood, is equally difficult for a growing child.
I was diagnosed with ADD growing up but that was it. When I told my mom in 6th grade I was gonna stop taking Ritalin she didn’t even try to fight me about it. But it was always so much more than just ADD. I always knew there was something more but never knew what. I know neurodivergent is not an official diagnosis but knowing that there is something I can pinpoint and that others have gone through it too makes me feel a lot better about thinking so differently my whole life.
April, the details you share about writing your name backward, walking to the nurse for Ritalin, feeling like the outcast of the outcasts, and struggling to be understood give this reflection real lived weight. The moment where you say you wanted someone to notice and ask what was wrong is especially important, since so much pain deepens when people respond to distress with threat or shame. I appreciate how you turn your own story into reassurance for others who may recognize themselves in the traits, the social exhaustion, the sensitivity, or the feeling of being different before they had language for it. Grateful for your honesty and for the way you keep making room for people to feel less alone in how their minds move through the world.
I appreciate the honesty in this piece! Not just in explaining what being neurodivergent means, but also in opening up about the pain you experienced in your childhood.
I really resonated with what you shared about your mom not giving you the comfort you needed at the time, and instead responding in a way you never expected. It hurts knowing that so much of our early lives are shaped by our parents, and that sometimes we're neglected in ways we never chose or deserved.
I also hope you know you're not alone!
Being different is a beautiful thing because it's what makes each of us unique. The struggles and pain we've experienced don't have to define who we are; they can become part of what helps us grow into more compassionate and resilient human beings ❤️
I like being different. There are just some things that I wish I didn’t do different than others. Like overthink things that aren’t necessary to think about.
But mostly, I wish I was not so weird in social settings. That’s the biggest problem I have.
Ahh, I just wrote something about being a little weird and how you should also embrace it because I think the more we stop trying to fit the expected versions of us, the more we find the right connections with others.
But I hope you have an amazing weekend April, and be different as much as you can, it’s what makes you unique ✨
What a powerful, necessary read! 🦄 Your raw honesty about navigating dyslexia, social fatigue, and a strict upbringing is incredibly brave. Reclaiming your childhood traits not as a list of flaws, but as the blueprint of how your beautiful, unconventional mind operates is so liberating. Your closing call to action is wonderful—thank you for standing loudly in your visibility and helping make 'different' the new normal!
I can see I was Neurodivergent, had ADHD, dyslexia and OCD when I was young but none of these diagnosis existed when I was a child. I struggled with dyslexia which I believe caused my stuttering when I was a child. I didn't let stuttering stop me from talking though. I over came that I also struggled with reading because the words scrambled especially when I was tired. I became an avid reader which helped my development in writing. I could identify with the cutting, however, I never cut, I used alcohol to shut my overactive mind off and num out. I discussed with my best friend about my overactive mind and he told me he never thinks about anything like me. That's when I first understood I was different than normal people, I thought everyone was like me. I learned coping mechanisms when I was young to overcome the difficulties I faced with my issues.
Well, you are definitely not alone in thinking differently. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried talking to my husband about things just for him to look at me with a vacant expression. He is very smart and very logical thinking. But even he tells me that he doesn’t think like me regularly and that the way I think is not normal. I wish so badly I could turn off my overactive brain. I wish I could think about stupid, simple, every day kinds of things. But instead I’m over here thinking about existence, adaption, the universe, life, and so many more things that typical people just don’t think about on a regular basis. Seriously, there were days I felt like I was going to go clinically insane. Now I just write everything out and move on. I have so many random things written down everywhere, and random voice memos.
What feels most important here is how easily difference becomes loneliness when no one knows how to read it.
So much of childhood pain comes from being interpreted wrongly: sensitivity as weakness, overwhelm as defiance, struggle as laziness, distress as attention-seeking.
Sometimes healing begins when we finally receive the right language for ourselves, and realize we were not failing at being human. We were asking to be understood in a language no one around us had learned yet.
I was an undiagnosed neurodivergent child. I will always get my numbers backwards, even till this day. We undiagnosed neurodivergents went through the whole self hate period as we could not understand why we were the way we were. The anger at not being disciplined enough when discipline had nothing to do with it. Why do I overshare, why did I just do that? There is pain, confusion and frustration when a simple diagnosis could explain so much. So I guess both being diagnosed and misunderstood and being undiagnosed and misunderstood, is equally difficult for a growing child.
I was diagnosed with ADD growing up but that was it. When I told my mom in 6th grade I was gonna stop taking Ritalin she didn’t even try to fight me about it. But it was always so much more than just ADD. I always knew there was something more but never knew what. I know neurodivergent is not an official diagnosis but knowing that there is something I can pinpoint and that others have gone through it too makes me feel a lot better about thinking so differently my whole life.
April, the details you share about writing your name backward, walking to the nurse for Ritalin, feeling like the outcast of the outcasts, and struggling to be understood give this reflection real lived weight. The moment where you say you wanted someone to notice and ask what was wrong is especially important, since so much pain deepens when people respond to distress with threat or shame. I appreciate how you turn your own story into reassurance for others who may recognize themselves in the traits, the social exhaustion, the sensitivity, or the feeling of being different before they had language for it. Grateful for your honesty and for the way you keep making room for people to feel less alone in how their minds move through the world.
I appreciate the honesty in this piece! Not just in explaining what being neurodivergent means, but also in opening up about the pain you experienced in your childhood.
I really resonated with what you shared about your mom not giving you the comfort you needed at the time, and instead responding in a way you never expected. It hurts knowing that so much of our early lives are shaped by our parents, and that sometimes we're neglected in ways we never chose or deserved.
I also hope you know you're not alone!
Being different is a beautiful thing because it's what makes each of us unique. The struggles and pain we've experienced don't have to define who we are; they can become part of what helps us grow into more compassionate and resilient human beings ❤️
I like being different. There are just some things that I wish I didn’t do different than others. Like overthink things that aren’t necessary to think about.
But mostly, I wish I was not so weird in social settings. That’s the biggest problem I have.
Ahh, I just wrote something about being a little weird and how you should also embrace it because I think the more we stop trying to fit the expected versions of us, the more we find the right connections with others.
But I hope you have an amazing weekend April, and be different as much as you can, it’s what makes you unique ✨
Thank you. 😊
What a powerful, necessary read! 🦄 Your raw honesty about navigating dyslexia, social fatigue, and a strict upbringing is incredibly brave. Reclaiming your childhood traits not as a list of flaws, but as the blueprint of how your beautiful, unconventional mind operates is so liberating. Your closing call to action is wonderful—thank you for standing loudly in your visibility and helping make 'different' the new normal!
I feel like different is starting to become the new normal and I love that.
I can see I was Neurodivergent, had ADHD, dyslexia and OCD when I was young but none of these diagnosis existed when I was a child. I struggled with dyslexia which I believe caused my stuttering when I was a child. I didn't let stuttering stop me from talking though. I over came that I also struggled with reading because the words scrambled especially when I was tired. I became an avid reader which helped my development in writing. I could identify with the cutting, however, I never cut, I used alcohol to shut my overactive mind off and num out. I discussed with my best friend about my overactive mind and he told me he never thinks about anything like me. That's when I first understood I was different than normal people, I thought everyone was like me. I learned coping mechanisms when I was young to overcome the difficulties I faced with my issues.
Well, you are definitely not alone in thinking differently. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried talking to my husband about things just for him to look at me with a vacant expression. He is very smart and very logical thinking. But even he tells me that he doesn’t think like me regularly and that the way I think is not normal. I wish so badly I could turn off my overactive brain. I wish I could think about stupid, simple, every day kinds of things. But instead I’m over here thinking about existence, adaption, the universe, life, and so many more things that typical people just don’t think about on a regular basis. Seriously, there were days I felt like I was going to go clinically insane. Now I just write everything out and move on. I have so many random things written down everywhere, and random voice memos.
What an amazing piece of literature
And what an amazing author, you are
Thank you! I just want to share my experiences with others in hope that they feel less alone.
Thank you for sharing your amazing talent
That is a very worthy Crusade you are
I hope I can support you all the way
You already are. Thank you.
What feels most important here is how easily difference becomes loneliness when no one knows how to read it.
So much of childhood pain comes from being interpreted wrongly: sensitivity as weakness, overwhelm as defiance, struggle as laziness, distress as attention-seeking.
Sometimes healing begins when we finally receive the right language for ourselves, and realize we were not failing at being human. We were asking to be understood in a language no one around us had learned yet.
Yes!!! The last line you said!!! So very true.
Just subscribed! Thanks for such an insightful essay!