at the intersection of neurodiversity and attachment

Conservative thought preaches that issues with mental health or relationships should not be spoken of at best and kept closely guarded at worst. Likewise toxic masculinty dictates that talking about feelings or emotions makes individuals who identify as male less-than-man or weak. Try as we might, these negative influences permeate society and even embed in our subconcious. Usually these ideas rooted in conservative thought take on the form of different criticisms: that talking about our struggles is vain, self-absorbed, or a cry for attention. The underlying belief remains the same: that these are things we should struggle with silently.

I write about these things because doing so is cathartic for me. It allows me to really be intentional about what and how I'm thinking, to examine and challenge the things that I tell myself, and provides an outlet during times of rumination. Beyond that, I hope that speaking publicly about these struggles is relatable to anyone who might read about them. I hope that something that I wrote sparks a positive reaction in someone and gives them the confidence to ask for help if they need it. I write mostly for myself, but it would bring me great joy if anything I write resonates with someone, makes them feel seen, or makes it easier for them to be vulnerable.

Throughout my life, I always believed there was something wrong with me. After all, enough adults told me that there was for me to believe it. For late-diagnosed neurodivergent individuals I'm sure this is a familiar feeling. That this feeling is prevalent among adults that uncovered mental health diagonses later in life speaks to an overarching societal issue with how kids (specifically neurodivergent kids) are treated. Information about neurodivergence wasn't always as ubquitous as it is now (and yet to be sure, awareness alone has not proved to be a panacea) which lead to our caregivers being ill-equipped to identify and assist children with mental health diagnoses. Like trying to force a round peg into a square hole, the solutions for such inappropriately labeled "problem children"proved to be ineffective at addressing the root cause of their behavior.

A child learning that their (unbeknownst to them) neurodivergent perception of the world isn't the universal experience was a lesson most caregivers didn't know how or when to deliver, or in most cases wasn't a lesson they were even aware of at all. Parents knew how kids were supposed to be according to societal norms, but they didn't know how or why, despite their best efforts, certain children remained intractable. When lacking the actual explanation of why (otherwise unknown) neurodivergent children behaved so differently from their peers, society largely zeroes in on one answer: it must be the fault of the child.

Most parents are doing their best and are not intentionally dismissing or minimizing their child's needs, but parenting a neurodivergent child is not easy. Even a parent doing their best to meet their child's needs may show up in an inconsistent way due to the misattunement with their child's diagnoses, which can manifest as frustration or exhaustion. For the neurodivergent child this can instill a belief that their whole self will always prove to be too much in a close relationship. Such a feeling can foster an anxious attachment style - characterized by a deep fear of abandonment by those closest to them - which can impact the way a neurodivergent child engages with the world, even in adulthood. Neurodivergent children make up a disproportionate amount of children who are expelled from school, who come into contact with the criminal punishment system, and who commmit self-harm. Seemingly at every turn, society attempts to reinforce the internalized inadequacy many neurodivergent children develop during their formative years.

I want to pause right here and make it clear that while factors like neurodivergence and attachment style are clearly instrumental in shaping who a person is, they are not to be used as an excuse for hurtful behavior. It is entirely true that the world does not make it easy to be neurodivergent, but that doesn't mean we can hide behind our diagnoses and attachment styles and refuse to do the inner work of regulating our emotions and deprogramming harmful thought patterns that were calcified by the childhood trauma we experienced. I want to tell you right now: you do fit in. You are loveable. You are not too much. Your value starts and ends with how you feel about yourself. Don't let anyone, especially a society hell-bent on stigamatizing what makes you your unique self, tell you differently. Getting to a place where you believe that is hard work, but it is a worthy undertaking.

At first I felt embarassment that I was learning these things for the first time in my 30s. One thing that I always try to keep present in my mind is that we don't know what we don't know. Much like our parents were well-meaning but unaware of our diagnoses, we are well-meaning but unaware of strategies to tackle a lifetime of negative thought processes. For myself, these internalized beliefs were too much to tackle on my own. Going to therapy isn't an indictment of your sanity, your worth, or a measure of failure. It's never too late to begin the healing process, no matter how old or set in your ways you are. Allow yourself to reach out for the help that you were denied as a child. Healing your inner child will help you reach a place where the past no longer constrains your future.