I’ve spent 22 years acutely aware of how my brain deviates from the norm — be it my intense emotions, my hypersensitivity to the emotions of others, or my affinity for rules.
Throughout my school years, academia was my haven. It was the place I didn’t have to mask; my ability to hyper-focus was an asset. Academic giftedness became my identity. In other areas of life, I learned to dilute the qualities others considered "odd" to a tolerable level, but in doing so, I also diluted myself.
Eventually,the facade crumbled as obsessive study became unsustainable. My mental and physical health deteriorated until I was fully consumed by various mental illnesses and spent more time in hospitals than at home.
Treatments felt impersonal and even harmful, focused on conformity rather than understanding. They were restrictive, forceful, and retraumatising. Seeking help felt like losing a hard-won battle.
It wasn’t until my 20s that things shifted. My focus turned to healing and advocacy. Here’s what I’ve learned along the way:
I am disabled. Prior to this year, I never identified as autistic, let alone disabled. Now I see I’ve always faced and will always face challenges invisible to most.
My ability to mask and fit in means I don’t appear disabled, but it doesn’t mean I’m not.
I’ve spent my life editing who I am to fit in. I learned to move through life playing a part, expending so much energy, time, and focus that I exist in a constant state of exhaustion.
There is no shame in disability. People with disabilities face barriers as society is designed for non-disabled people.
Take communication.When I communicate with another neurodivergent person, its a chaotic but brilliant symphony. Yet, neurotypical communication is the norm.
Not all disability is visible. I recently bought a green sunflower lanyard for the bus. It’s a signal that I may need extra support.
It wasn’t long before realising next to no one knew what the lanyard meant. It showed me how much work is still needed.
Neurodiversity is complex, not like the movies. My understanding of autism came solely from films like Rain Man.
Neurodivergence is much more complex and can look very different. It may not be visible at all.Research shows women, like me, are harder to diagnose than men, delaying vital support. We learn to mascot.
Poor mental health is not mental illness. It’s something we all have. At times yours might be good, at times not so much. It’s when people feel discomfort, as if it’s suddenly MY fault.
I don’t say this to invalidate anyone’s struggle, but to say that not all disabilities are treated equally. It’s harder to be taken seriously when your wounds are internal.
It took a long time to navigate society, to learn to be brave and advocate for myself. I hope my story can help someone else. There is nothing wrong with being different.