When interacting with others, I have felt distance, a profound confusion at being able to understand, but not being understood in return. I thought it would improve if I just explained enough or kept trying. Yet, this was a losing battle.
I was forcing myself to mask my behaviors, preferences and self so the world would better understand. Because I know the stigma of not matching cultural norms. I know what it does to relationships and opportunities.
Then, I found out about my own neurodivergence. I felt I needed to hide elements that are part of my embodied experience of reality. This was mentally exhausting and led to terrible burnout.
I tried to be something I wasn’t. This mask has slowly faded over the past few years as I realized who I really am.
What I was taught in a neurotypical world to be “failures” is just how I am. Failure has nothing to do with it.
What others consider “failure” is what makes me adaptable, creative, and compassionate. It got me into ministry.
It makes me determined to overcome everything thrown my way and to make a difference in the world. I work ten times as hard because social systems are not made for me.
Now, I am beginning the journey of what it means to let go of acceptance from others, stepping into this role for myself.
Here’s the truth: I am neurodivergent and the mask is coming off.
I have been described as both talkative and reserved. The description depends on the person and context. However, all these traits appear when I unmask, allowing my natural behaviors and self to shine.
Based on my experience, my thinking has a different capacity for pattern recognition and problem-solving. I ask lots of questions, which is often interpreted as me being “challenging” rather than curious.
I see beyond social constructions, assumptions and expectations. I see people, not their stereotypes.
I have a sense of justice and autonomy. I have particular interests.
I hate small talk because it feels like banging my head against the wall. This has led me into deeper areas of ministry, including chaplaincy.
I offer these descriptions because I never quite fit into a box. Different parts of myself arise in different contexts. There are no English adjectives I know of to fit.
Nevertheless, as an unmasked neurodivergent, I hold on to the entirety of my identity and ways of operating in the world. To me, there is no other option.
I can’t be anyone else. Asking for me to change means asking me to put on a mask or project a lie.
I want to own what it means to be me. This conviction has never left me. No matter what I endured, survived or encountered, nothing could change me.
The Creator made me just as I am. It’s not an excuse. It is who I am.
I know I don’t stand alone.
Neurodivergence is not the only area where this applies. The more I interact with people, the more I see that we all wear some type of mask. In different contexts, all types of people can be pressured to hide parts of themselves from embarrassment or shame.
In church, we are implicitly encouraged to act in a specific way, to keep the mask on. From all this, I was called into ministry. A special interest in the Bible was transformed into a calling.
I want to show people another way and a world where people are people— not objects or “things” to be controlled. It is a way of being wherein people can be their authentic selves without being forced to wear a mask and sacrificing their souls.
A current Master of Divinity student at Campbell University Divinity School.
