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Signs You Might Be Neurodivergent Without Knowing It

The first time I heard the word neurodivergent, I nodded like I knew what it meant, then immediately Googled it and still wasn’t sure if I qualified.

Too distracted for neurotypical? Too functional for neurodivergent? Too inconsistent for either?

Welcome to the middle ground no one warns you about.

Depending on the day, “neurodivergent” can sound like a diagnosis, an identity, a TikTok trend, or a euphemism for “I once lost my keys in the fridge.”

And somehow, all of those might be true.

If you’ve ever looked at a list of ADHD symptoms and said “Okay but that’s just being alive,” or sat through an autism explainer wondering if it applied to you in a weird sideways way, you’re not alone.

Here’s the thing about the word “neurodivergent”: the more people use it, the blurrier it gets. And weirdly, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Because neurodivergence isn’t a clear-cut club with entry requirements. It’s more like a conversation. Still unfolding. Still unfinished.

And if you’ve ever found yourself hovering at the edge of it: curious, unsure, maybe a little skeptical, this post is for you.

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Where the Term Comes From

Origin of the Term Neurodivergence and Its Evolution

The word neurodiversity was coined in the late 1990s by sociologist Judy Singer, an autistic woman writing her honours thesis on autism and disability. She wasn’t trying to launch a movement or start a trend, she just needed a word. Something that captured the fact that not all brains work the same way, and maybe that wasn’t actually a problem. (Wild, I know.)

The term is a mashup of neurological and diversity, and it caught on. Slowly at first, then all over the place.

Instead of seeing autism as something broken or deficient, Singer framed it as a form of natural variation. One flavor in the cognitive buffet. Her work laid the foundation for what’s now called the neurodiversity paradigm: the idea that there’s no single “correct” way to think, learn, or process the world, just a whole lot of ways to be human.

A few years later, the word neurodivergent showed up—coined by Kassiane Asasumasu, a writer and advocate who lives with ADHD, autism, and epilepsy. She wanted a term that didn’t just orbit around autism. Something that could make space for all the folks whose brains don’t run on society’s factory settings.

So from the beginning, neurodiversity centered autism. But neurodivergent? That was meant to open the door wider.

These terms were never meant to be clinical. They were cultural. Created by people living it, not just observing it. They were about describing difference without labeling it defective.

And then, of course, the internet got involved.

These days, neurodivergent is often used as a stand-in for autistic, especially online. And while it absolutely applies to autistic people, it gets messy when the term is treated like it only applies to them.

That’s the irony: a word coined to open up the conversation ends up being used in ways that narrow it again.

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So What Is Neurodivergence? (Spoiler: It Depends)

What Is Neurodivergence? Understanding ADHD, Autism, and More

Here’s the short version:

Neurodivergent usually refers to anyone whose brain works in a way that significantly diverges from the dominant norm.

And here’s the part no one agrees on:

What counts as “significant”?

What counts as “normal”?

And who exactly gets to decide?

The most commonly included examples are ADHD, autism, dyslexia, dyspraxia, Tourette’s, processing disorders, learning disabilities, and, depending on who you ask, some mental health conditions like OCD, bipolar disorder, or CPTSD.

But the list isn’t fixed.

It never has been.

There’s no universal criteria. There’s no master spreadsheet. What “counts” as neurodivergent is still shaped by diagnosis access, language, gender norms, cultural stigma, and whether your symptoms show up loud and messy—or quiet and exhausting.

Clinicians tend to look at diagnostic categories. Lived-experience communities tend to look at friction:

Does your brain make it harder to live, work, relate, or exist in the world as it’s built?

That question often matters more than a checkbox ever could.

And for what it’s worth:

If your brain feels like it runs on a different OS (and not the one IT supports), you’re probably not imagining it. You might just be neurodivergent.

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We’re Still Figuring This Out

(Why Neurodivergence Isn’t a Closed Club)

Neurodivergence: Why Definitions Are Still Evolving

For a concept that’s used everywhere, from diagnosis forms to dating profiles, we’re still not entirely sure what neurodivergence includes. Or doesn’t. Or should.

That’s not because the word is flawed. It’s because we’re early. Neurodivergence isn’t a fixed category. It’s a living framework. Still evolving. Still argued over.

Right now, there’s no consensus on where the boundaries are. Is anxiety neurodivergent? What about trauma? Is divergence about neurology, disability, executive function, identity? Or a mix of all of the above?

Different communities answer those questions differently: sometimes with openness, sometimes gatekeep-y, often a mix of both.

And that makes sense. These aren’t just definitions. They’re ways of understanding ourselves. They shape who gets support, who gets stigma, who gets seen. Of course there’s friction.

We’re building the map while we walk it. Some people are already planting flags. Others are still wondering if they’re even on the right trail.

But here’s what’s true underneath the noise: this language wasn’t built to shut people out. It was built to help people name something real, and maybe feel a little less alone.

So if your experience doesn’t check every box, or any boxes, you’re not misusing the term. You’re participating in what it’s still becoming.

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The Labels We Use Might Change. And That’s Okay

(ADHD, Autism, and the Future of Diagnosis)

ADHD and Autism Labels: How Diagnosis Terms Evolve

Getting a diagnosis can feel like exhaling for the first time in years. Suddenly, the things that never made sense… do. You get language. You get context. Maybe even a little self-compassion.

But here’s the catch: these labels aren’t permanent fixtures. They’re snapshots based on the best guesses of a particular time, shaped by research, culture, and whatever framework happens to be in style.

What we now call ADHD used to be “minimal brain dysfunction.” Autism has had more rebrands than most pop stars. And depending on when or where you grew up, you might’ve just been called difficult. Or troubled. Or lazy. Or possessed.

These categories change because science changes. Culture shifts. We understand the brain differently than we did 20 years ago—and 20 years from now, we’ll probably see it differently again.

So if you’re holding onto a label that helped you make sense of yourself, that doesn’t become less valid just because the label might evolve. That clarity you found? It still counts.

Because your identity isn’t invalid just because science is still catching up. Neurodivergence isn’t a final answer. It’s a working theory. One that’s constantly shaped by real people, real lives, and real questions.

And if the map changes while you’re still walking it? Don’t panic. You were never off-course. Just unrecognized.

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So… Am I Neurodivergent?

Am I Neurodivergent? How to Know If You Relate

If you’ve ever wondered whether you “count” as neurodivergent, you’re not alone.

Maybe you relate to the struggles. Maybe the TikToks hit a little too hard. Maybe you’ve always felt out of step but never had a name for it.

Then you look at the checklists, the diagnostic criteria, the Reddit threads. And think, Eh, not quite.

That grey zone? It’s more common than you think.

You might feel like you’re too functional to need support, but too scattered to feel typical. You might resonate with ADHD burnout or autistic sensory overwhelm, but wonder if you’re just being dramatic. You might even worry you’re “stealing” a label that doesn’t belong to you.

Welcome to the club. (Ironically, we don’t check membership cards.)

Neurodivergence isn’t a prize you win with a formal diagnosis. It’s a way of making sense of how your brain works and how it bumps up against the world.

Yes, diagnosis matters. It can open doors. But access to it is wildly uneven: based on race, gender, money, geography, stigma, and whether you happen to present the “right” kind of symptoms.

So if you’ve been circling the term, unsure if it fits: that uncertainty is part of the story.

If the language resonates, if it helps you breathe easier or feel more like yourself, then maybe that’s reason enough to keep exploring.

You don’t need a permission slip to understand yourself.

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Final Thoughts: You Belong

Final Thoughts on Neurodivergence, ADHD, and Belonging

Neurodivergence isn’t one experience, one label, or one truth. It’s a big, messy umbrella. And the further you stand back, the more variation you see underneath it.

Some people arrive through a diagnosis. Others arrive by reading one too many articles and realizing, “Wait a second…”

Some feel sure. Some feel like frauds. Some change their minds entirely.

There’s room for all of that.

Because this isn’t about drawing hard lines, it’s about making room. For complexity. For contradiction. For the fact that no one’s brain comes with a manual.

You don’t need a diagnosis to ask questions. You don’t need a label to belong in the conversation. You don’t need to explain your entire life story to feel seen.

You just need to start where you are.

Because different doesn’t mean broken. It means you see the world from a different angle. And sometimes, that’s exactly what the world needs.

If this hits close to home and you’re starting to wonder whether ADHD might be part of the picture, you’re in the right place. I work with people who are sorting through exactly that.

Learn more here →

Final Thoughts on Neurodivergence, ADHD, and Belonging

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