Growing up as a neuro diverse child in Australia was an extremely confusing experience.
When I was around children my own age I was known for being the ‘funny kid’ or the ‘class clown’ and I didn’t really mind it, however in the classroom was a different story, teachers knew me as the ‘naughty kid’, I felt like I had a target on my back that just wouldn’t go away.
All throughout primary school I knew I was different, whilst my friends were practicing hand writing and spelling, I was counting how many lights I could see or how many minutes until the break because I didn’t know how to sit still.
Australia is known for its laid back, relaxed lifestyle however that wasn’t always my experience. When people hear the term ‘neurodiverse’ they automatically assume loud, fun and fidgety and whilst these 3 things can be true it is a lot deeper than having an ‘outspoken personality’.
Neurodivergence involves unique neurological wiring, resulting in different functional strengths and processing styles compared to neurotypical brains, this means that growing up, I was forced to navigate a world designed for neurotypical brains which often lead to challenges surrounding social, and sensory norms.
Growing up, I would often hear “stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about”, this is a very common Australian phrase that on the surface seems like a throw away comment however for my neurodiverse brain, was extremely damaging.
Being neurodiverse means my brain takes longer to process information and regulate emotions so often when others would see a ‘tantrum’, the reality is that crying was the only way I knew how to regulate emotions, so being told “stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about” completely invalidated my emotions, and turned moments of vulnerability into stress and fear.
One major challenge I faced as a teenager growing up in Australia with neurodiverse brain was understanding Australian culture. Australian culture is known for its funny, sarcastic, ‘bogan’ humour however for a brain like mine it can be extremely difficult to interpret sarcasm due to differences in cognitive processing, communication styles, and the interpretation of social cues.
I would frequently hear sarcastic phrases like “you’re a genius aren’t you” or “Yeah, right”. Sarcasm was extremely difficult to recognise due to my processing speed being longer than the neurotypical brain, meaning it takes my brain longer to take in information, make sense of it and respond.
For years I thought the answer was to change myself so I could belong. Only later did I realise the problem was never the way my mind worked, it was that the world didn’t always know how to make room for minds like mine.
