What is neurodivergence?
In recent years, you’ve probably seen the term neurodivergent—whether on social media, in a classroom or in the workplace. But what exactly does it mean? And why is it important to understand?
Let’s break it down.
Neurodivergence is a term used to describe brains that function differently from what is considered “typical” or “neurotypical.” It refers to the natural variations in the human brain regarding attention, learning, mood, sociability, and other mental functions.
The term was coined by sociologist Judy Singer in the late 1990s and was created to promote acceptance and understanding of neurological differences as part of human diversity—not something that needs to be "fixed" or "cured."
Types of neurodivergence
Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)
Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD or previously ADD)
Dyslexia, Dyspraxia, Dyscalculia
Tourette’s
Anxiety and Mood Disorders
Neurodivergence refers to natural differences in how people think, learn, and process information. Understanding and embracing these differences can lead to a more inclusive, compassionate, and innovative society.
Whether you're neurodivergent, neurotypical, or still exploring what these terms mean, one thing is clear: there's no one “right” way to be human—and that’s something worth celebrating.
why neurodivergence matters to me
For me, neurodivergence is more than just an academic or cultural concept — it’s a part of my identity.
I was diagnosed with ADHD later in life, after years of wondering why certain things that seemed “easy” for others felt overwhelming for me. The diagnosis wasn’t just a label — it was a moment of clarity. It helped me finally put words to lifelong struggles I had minimized, misunderstood, or tried to push through in silence. Suddenly, I could look back on my past not with shame, but with compassion.
At the same time, I’m also the parent of autistic children, which has deepened my understanding even more. Through their eyes, I’ve come to see how much of the world is not built for different kinds of minds. I’ve seen firsthand how hard it can be for neurodivergent kids to be truly seen and supported — and how much misunderstanding still exists in schools, healthcare, and even in well-meaning social circles.
What strikes me most is how common these stories are. I’ve met so many people — adults and children — who’ve spent years, even decades, feeling like they’re “too much” or “not enough” or who have felt fundamentally flawed. Many have been misdiagnosed, overlooked, or forced to mask their true selves just to fit in. They were never given the right tools or support because no one recognized what was really going on.
I’ve been there. I’ve shared in the pain and the misinformation. I’ve seen the damage it causes and sat with people who are questioning their entire identity, wondering what’s “wrong” with them — when the real issue is how misunderstood they’ve been.
I’ve seen misdiagnosis firsthand:
Autistic individuals being labeled as Bipolar, Agoraphobic, or even Schizophrenic.
ADHD adults diagnosed with Anxiety, Depression, or PTSD — when in reality, those struggles were often symptoms of years spent unsupported, overwhelmed, and masking.
I’ve worked with clients who have spent years on medications that never really helped — not because they were broken, but because the root cause was never truly identified or understood.
I’ve also seen how hard parents struggle when raising neurodivergent children. I’ve lived it myself. I know the weight of the judgment when your child melts down in public. I’ve heard the unsolicited advice, the quiet (or not-so-quiet) criticism, the questioning of your parenting. I’ve seen how society treats children who don’t fit the mold — and how quickly it blames the parents.
All of this has made me want to do more:
To support.
To empower.
To validate neurodivergent individuals, parents, and partners.
To help people understand that they’re not alone — and that there is nothing wrong with them.
The more I’ve learned, the more I’ve realized:
We’re not broken.
We’re not wrong.
We’re just different — and that difference is real, valid, and worth honoring.
That’s why talking about neurodivergence matters so much to me. It’s about unlearning stigma, offering support that actually helps, and creating a world where all kinds of minds have room to thrive
