Content warning: this article contains references to sexual assault.
Looking back, I know there were many signs I was neurodiverse from a young age, from smaller indicators like collecting things and organising them in very specific ways, to much bigger things like meltdowns that were just passed off as me being hormonal or sensitive; never being able to correctly use capital letters or full stops was passed off as me just being clumsy or lazy; leaving deadlines to the absolute last minute was passed off as just bad time management; and struggling with a bucket load of sensory issues was passed off as me just having a low tolerance for annoying things. My ADHD and Autism were never really taken seriously because of my gender.
I was always seen as a chaotic, clumsy, sensitive kind of person with an abnormal amount of energy and zero social skills. But it was just passed off as a cute, quirky personality type. I know that, had I grown up as a boy, the support I received as a child would have been very different, and I may have become a very different person today due to that additional help. The ratio for diagnosed men to women is estimated to be 3:1, although research is starting to suggest it should be much more equal. Because men and women are socialised and taught to behave in very different ways growing up, our specific characteristics can present differently, too, meaning issues that neurodivergent women struggle with are often overlooked and girls are underdiagnosed.
I only discovered I was neurodivergent at university. My parents had always given me a stricter routine at home, so when I moved halfway across the country and suddenly all the household responsibilities (cooking, cleaning, washing, tidying) were up to me, I inevitably struggled. One thing they don’t tell you about university is the difficulty in transitioning to an entirely different lifestyle. It wasn’t that I wasn’t neurodivergent before, it was more that the breakdown of routine, the lack of support, and the new responsibilities I had exposed (and heightened) a lot of characteristics I’d been able to manage previously. Learning how to balance different areas of my life like household responsibilities, university work, socialising, and relationships has been something I’ve only just started figuring out.
Forming female friendships was also a huge challenge for me. I’d been friends with the same two girls for the past ten years of my life and now I had to relearn how to do it all. I didn’t know the first thing about girlhood if it wasn’t with them. I felt so out of place and overthought every single interaction, not knowing if I’d come across as rude or misread the tone by accident. Since then, I have found a great community of friends within student media, but it definitely took me longer than those around me to create those friendships.
I didn’t know the first thing about girlhood if it wasn’t with them.
My neurodiversity also impacted my dating life. I’m lucky now to have a partner who I have been dating for the past year and a half, who has learnt how to support me in the ways I need. However it wasn’t always easy for us. My autism and ADHD did put strain on our relationship, and at times, it’s hard not to feel guilty for the impact my requirements can have on another person. However, with communication, love, and support it has become much easier to navigate my relationship.
Before my relationship, the dating scene was brutal. My inability to read people led to me not only struggling to make good connections, but more worryingly, I did not pick up on some very obvious red flags. I was even putting myself in dangerous situations I didn’t recognise as bad because I didn’t understand the underlying issues. If I had been educated on how my neurodiversity would impact my decision making and ability to read situations, I might have been able to prevent some very negative experiences. Research indicates that neurodivergent women are 2 to 3 times more likely to be victims of sexual assault. The conversation definitely needs to be opened up, as more education about girls and neurodivergency is really important in tackling these issues.
I found my neurodiversity quite crippling for a time, and on most days now I still do. I still struggle with reading situations, the sensory overload of a night out, organising my home, completing my university work, and more. But it’s important to acknowledge neurodiversity for what it is, a disability, which is not a bad word to shy away from; being realistic helps to provide those who need it with the correct kind of support. I’ve learnt to give myself grace for when I make mistakes, or I am unable to do something. Its perfectly okay to mess up, and you are not a bad person for getting things wrong or finding some tasks harder. Neurodiversity whilst being a girl is not often brought up, and although the conversation is beginning to open up, it’s important to keep talking: with more talking comes more change.
