January 2026
Imagine waking up in another country whose language and culture you are not familiar with. You didn’t choose to visit willingly but somehow you arrived. You must quickly adapt to the environment for basic survival as you try and find your way home. It becomes an anxiety-fueled nightmare.
The above paragraph describes my life in a nutshell.
The world is not built for people like me. To survive, we learn to hide our traits, imitate others, and suppress our needs. When we have conversations with others, we process the information all at once while figuring out what the context of the interaction is and what the “right” response is supposed to be.
For me, I routinely survey the environment but I am not a mind-reader and don’t know if I will say something that may be interpreted as offensive or weird. It is a constant guessing game. I envy the person who can easily pick up on social cues and respond with ease.
When we don’t have clear rules to rely on, our brains stay in high-alert mode during interactions. After they are over, that heightened state doesn’t just switch off. The anxiety lingers.
Question: Do you find yourself frequently replaying conversations you’ve had with others, attempting to analyze and learn? I’m guilty of doing this. Embarrassingly, at times I have found myself talking out loud as if I were back in time rehashing the entire conversation.
For those of us with neurodivergent brains, it may be common to search for mistakes, missed cues, and even positive aspects of an interaction. This allows us to be better prepared for the next time. Unfortunately, with me, and perhaps yourself, this process of reflection can quickly turn into rumination. When we judge past interactions using imaginary social standards, it may lead to frustration and anger toward ourselves for not saying or doing the right thing.
I will admit that I am afflicted with a proclivity for self-criticism. This self-criticism typically comes from internalized pressure to perform socially. I am holding myself to an unreasonable standard and outcome that is never truly in my control. In a sense, if we can always predict with 100% accuracy how another person will react to us, we may never learn to “think on our feet” and embrace the unpredictability that life throws at us.
People with neurodivergent operating systems tend to work very hard to keep themselves safe and understood in a world that doesn’t always communicate clearly. Recognizing this can be a first step toward replacing self-deprecation with compassion for the effort we’re putting in.
Until next time.