“You Don’t Look Neurodivergent"—And Other Nonsensical Statements

A Guide to My Brain’s Chaos, Brought to You by Coffee, Hyperfixation, and a Slightly Unhinged Google Doc

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Stop Saying "You Don’t Look Like You Have Autism or ADHD"

Oh, you don’t look like you have Autism or ADHD? Well, bless your heart. Tell me, what exactly does that look like? Should I be wearing a neon sign? A special hat that says, “Caution: Neurodivergent at Work”? Maybe I need a flashing badge that says, “I have ADHD—don’t mind the occasional brain fart or two”? Please.

Here’s the thing: It’s 2025, and we’re still trotting out these ridiculous comments. Newsflash: Neurodivergence doesn’t come with a physical uniform. It’s not like some badge of honor I get to wear. You wouldn’t tell someone with diabetes or cancer, “You don’t look sick!”—so why say it to someone with autism or ADHD? Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there, honey. So, let’s retire this phrase before I lose it entirely.

Welcome to my brain: where hyperfixation meets task paralysis, and overthinking is always on the clock. ☕🧠 A little chaotic, a little cozy, and always running on coffee and creative energy. #NeurodivergentVibes

What Autism and ADHD Look Like for Me

Neurodivergence isn’t one-size-fits-all. For me, it’s a smorgasbord of chaos that looks different every day, like a jumbled mess of good intentions, distractions, and questionable decisions. But here’s a peek inside my world:

• Processing Delays: Picture this—someone speaks to me, and my brain just freezes. Like a Wi-Fi connection from 2002. Buffering… Oh, and just in time for the conversation to be over, my brain finally decides to respond. Cue awkward silence.

• Task Overwhelm: You know that moment when you’re so overwhelmed by a task that you can’t even? Yeah, that’s me 90% of the time. I’ll write a to-do list, but let’s be real—it takes so much energy that I end up not actually doing anything. So, there’s that.

• Sensory Sensitivities: Oh, you’re wearing jeans? Great. I’ll be over here, curled up in my sensory cocoon, trying not to scream because I feel like a circus animal in a straightjacket. I only wear comfy clothes, thank you very much. And yes, I own the same shirt in five colors. Consistency is key.

• Memory & Distraction: If I don’t write it down, it’s gone. No, seriously. Right now, I should be doing something important, but my brain decided this is the moment I need to share my thoughts about how chaotic my brain is. Priorities, right?

• Rumination & Anxiety: I replay every conversation in my head like I’m auditioning for a role in a psychological thriller. Did I say the wrong thing? Did I make them mad? How many times can I mentally apologize before it actually means something?

• Literal Thinking: Sarcasm? Lies? Jokes that aren’t immediately obvious? I don’t get them. My brain operates in a very “literal” zone, so if you’re telling me something sarcastic, please know I’m likely overanalyzing it.

• Environmental Impact: Messy house = messy brain. If my environment is chaotic, so is my brain. Forget trying to function in clutter. It’s like trying to drive a car with no brakes—just all kinds of nope.

• Sensory Needs: You know that feeling when your lips are dry and it’s like they’re actively plotting against you? Yeah, I carry lip balm like it’s a weapon. And heaven help me if I lose it.