When the Mask Comes Off: The Emotional Journey of Living as Neurodivergent

I recently responded to a discussion in a Facebook group where a mother anonymously shared her struggles with her daughter’s behavior. Parenting, in general, can feel isolating and lonely, but these feelings are often magnified when raising a Neurodivergent child. It's not because our children are "bad" or "disabled," but because they don’t fit into society's narrow idea of how children should behave. The shame we experience can intensify the pain of living as a Neurodivergent.

Society has deeply ingrained expectations about how children should act, and when those expectations aren’t met, it can feel as if the child is doing something “wrong.” This often invites judgment—not just from strangers but sometimes even from family members. It’s this societal gap that makes raising a Neurodivergent child not only difficult but profoundly isolating. On top of that, children with ADHD often experience far more interactions—some supportive, some critical—than their neurotypical peers, further highlighting the difference.

I remember all of the “advice” I was given on how best to parent Arianna when she was little. Her behavior was often blamed on my lack of parenting, which may be true. However, the trauma associated with forcing someone to act in a way that does not come naturally to them is the reason so many Neurodivergent people feel the need to mask. In the beginning, I let the outside voices—"My kid would never do that" or "If she were my kid, she would know better"—cause me shame and anger toward my parenting experience. I finally broke down and took the advice I was given once, and only once. I could see our close bond shrink and her spark dim, and that was the first and last time I listened to the naysayers.

I remember countless moments of processing situations factually while battling rejection sensitivity dysphoria and feeling misunderstood. It wasn’t that my feelings weren’t valid—it’s just that neurotypical people don’t always process things the same way. This difference can make it seem like I was “overreacting” or being “dramatic.” In fact, the running joke in my house growing up was, “And the Academy Award goes to... Lindsay.”

As a child, I learned to mask my true self—hiding the intense feelings of overwhelm or anxiety that would surface. It wasn’t just about fitting in; it was about survival. But the emotional toll of constantly “acting normal” can be exhausting. It’s like holding your breath all day long and only letting it out when you're alone at home, which often leads to what others might view as “controllable” behavior. People assume that because we are able to follow the social constructs most of the time when we don’t, it is a choice.

The easiest way to explain the difference between neurotypical and Neurodivergent thinking is to compare it to Apple versus Microsoft. Some might argue that one is better than the other, but in reality, they're just different. Most of the time, they can operate side-by-side, but they don’t always communicate effectively. This miscommunication becomes even more challenging when many Neurodivergent people are high maskers. If you can “act normal” most of the time, it can be difficult for neurotypical people to understand when you don’t, often leading them to think that it's a conscious choice.

Research shows that masking, which refers to the process of concealing one’s Neurodivergent traits in social settings, is a common experience for many Neurodivergent individuals, particularly those with ADHD and autism. Studies have found that prolonged masking can lead to burnout, anxiety, and depression due to the emotional toll it takes (Hull et al., 2020). This is especially true for those who "max out" their ability to mask by the time they return home, when they may strip off the mask and release all the emotions and impulses they've been suppressing all day long. Understanding this cycle of emotional exhaustion and stress is crucial, but it wasn't something I understood as a child. I've always wanted to be close to my mother, but both of us have accumulated a great deal of emotional scar tissue from the trauma we unintentionally caused each other.

When I was diagnosed with ADHD at five, it was a turning point for me and my family. Early diagnosis can make a world of difference in understanding and managing behaviors, but even with an early diagnosis, I still faced years of negative experiences. The trauma that built up before the diagnosis—five years of feeling misunderstood—was hard to overcome. Unfortunately, this is something many Neurodivergent individuals face: the lasting impact of years of misinterpretation and miscommunication before receiving the support they need.

As I have written about in earlier posts, I was tied to a chair by my kindergarten teacher. She took my behaviors as a personal attack on her authority. The fact that I had a high IQ and could perform academically on more difficult tasks, but struggled with simpler ones, made me an easy target for being labeled defiant. The problem with this perspective is that high intelligence often leads people to expect someone to understand and behave according to neurotypical societal rules. But the issue with that view is that many Neurodivergent individuals, while capable of understanding the social hierarchy, do not subscribe to it in the same way. I’ve never understood the fascination with actors, actresses, or athletes, and that often put me at odds with my peers. It really came to a head when I openly expressed my lack of interest in Leonardo DiCaprio, telling my classmates in third grade that being obsessed with him was illogical—after all, they would never meet him, and even if they did, he’d be much older and uninterested in them. This blunt logic, while true to me, got me ostracized and labeled as a “lesbian” by my peers. My high intelligence and disregard for societal norms often made me a target in school, both from my peers and teachers.

This reasoning also got me into trouble with my teachers, as I was quick to point out mistakes and impatient with peers who needed extra wait time. My teachers didn’t understand that while my brain could process complex thoughts, I struggled with mundane tasks. When I was under stress, I had no access to my frontal lobe, which controls executive functions like planning and impulse control. The stress response triggered by this lack of access, combined with my impulsivity, often led to behavior that was deemed defiant or rude, which in turn triggered rejection sensitivity dysphoria (RSD). This created a vicious cycle: being misunderstood led to heightened stress, which would impair my ability to regulate my emotions, causing others to be upset with me. This would only amplify my feelings of hurt and rejection, further escalating the cycle.

One of the best ways to break this cycle is by approaching these situations with understanding and empathy. Questions that encourage self-reflection, rather than judgment, can help de-escalate tension and offer a way forward. For example, asking, "I notice you're feeling really upset right now. Can you tell me what’s going on?" can create a non-judgmental space for processing emotions. I also frequently ask my children and students, "In the end, what do you want? Is what you're doing right now helping you get closer to that goal?" For many Neurodivergent individuals, like myself, brutal honesty is second nature, and this can make us seem out of step with neurotypical expectations. But when we can process that our actions are moving us further from our goals, we can start making better decisions.

When having these conversations, it’s crucial to remember intent and recognize that all parties involved are human. I don’t harbor any hard feelings toward my childhood or my parents because I know they were doing the best they could with the knowledge available at the time. Looking back, I often reflect on how much harder it would have been to parent three twice-exceptional children without the insight I now have into how our brains work and why certain behaviors happen. Understanding and empathy are key to breaking down the barriers between neurotypical and Neurodivergent individuals, helping to create a more supportive and compassionate environment for everyone.

The Unseen Struggles: Neurodivergence, Rejection Sensitivity, and the Importance of Communication

My mother was a quiet, well-behaved child, and my boundless energy as her firstborn must have been overwhelming. I'm sure my "Energizer Bunny" level of energy was difficult for her to manage. But I imagine it wasn’t the energy that caused the most pain—it was probably the judgment and the nasty looks she received from others. This judgment, often cast upon Neurodivergent children and their families, creates an environment where both parent and child are navigating a world of misunderstanding and unmet needs.

Fortunately, I was diagnosed with ADHD at five—much earlier than most girls with ADHD. However, even with an early diagnosis, five years of negative experiences are a long time to accumulate trauma. Research shows that the earlier the diagnosis, the better the chances for understanding and support. However, even early identification doesn’t protect individuals from the lasting impacts of years of miscommunication, judgment, and frustration.

Dear Neurotypical Adult,

Thank you for putting in the effort to understand how our brains work. It may not feel like it right now, but I promise your child loves you deeply. Even though it might seem like they view their experiences negatively, most of the time, this is a result of how they process information. It's not that we only remember the bad things—it’s that we try to analyze every experience to determine how to reduce the likelihood of it happening again. This tendency to replay negative interactions is connected to a Neurodivergent trait called Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD), which is prevalent in conditions like ADHD.

Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria: The Cycle of Misinterpretation and Impulse

RSD is often linked to an overactive amygdala, the brain region responsible for processing emotions, especially fear. For Neurodivergent individuals, particularly those with ADHD, this overactivity can make even subtle or unintentional rejections feel overwhelming, triggering intense emotional responses. These emotional reactions, while seemingly disproportionate, are rooted in the brain’s misperception of emotional threats. Research by Smith et al. (2018) explains that when the amygdala overreacts, it impairs the ability to regulate emotions logically, which can lead to impulsive reactions like anger, anxiety, or hurt feelings in response to what might seem like benign situations.

This cycle can lead to conflict. When the Neurodivergent individual reacts impulsively, often in a way that is hard for others to understand, it can cause confusion and frustration for the person on the receiving end. In turn, this misunderstanding may reinforce the Neurodivergent individual’s feelings of rejection, exacerbating the emotional pain and triggering a self-fulfilling prophecy. The situation spirals, with both parties feeling increasingly misunderstood, creating emotional distance.

To break this cycle, it is essential to practice awareness and communication. By learning to recognize when RSD is triggered and reaching out to trusted individuals to help assess the situation, Neurodivergent individuals can begin to challenge their misinterpretations and process situations more effectively. This self-reflection and communication can lead to better emotional regulation and healthier relationships.

Writing as a Release: The Power of Communication

Many Neurodivergent individuals, particularly those with ADHD, have eidetic memories that allow us to replay past events vividly in our minds. While this can sometimes be useful, it is often traumatizing as negative experiences get replayed over and over, like an endless loop. If we are sharing our processing with you, it’s because we trust you to help us make sense of it.

This process can be difficult for neurotypical people to engage with, which is why writing and journaling can be relationship-savers. Writing has been an essential tool in building a stronger relationship with my mother. Both of us often felt attacked by each other, even when that wasn’t the intent. At one point, I broke down and wrote her a letter. I believe that letter was the "white flag" we needed for a long time. It allowed me to express my feelings without my brain over-analyzing the conversation. Writing gave me space to revise my words and communicate in a way that felt less emotionally charged.

Around the same time, I also wrote my daughter a letter in front of the journal I bought her. The letter explained that no matter what, my love for her is unwavering and unconditional. It also explained how our brains work and how writing down our feelings before sharing them can be a helpful strategy for managing impulsive reactions. Writing, as research indicates, engages multiple regions of the brain, slows down thought processes, and allows individuals to reflect before sharing emotions. This provides a buffer against impulsive outbursts and creates opportunities for more thoughtful communication.

Alternative Communication Strategies for Neurodivergent Children

While writing is a helpful strategy for older children, not all Neurodivergent children have developed these skills yet. For younger children or those who are non-verbal, visual aids, emotion charts, or voice recorders can be incredibly helpful. These tools can help children identify and express their emotions when they may not have the vocabulary or impulse control to articulate them verbally. The goal is to provide alternative outlets that help children process their feelings and slow down their reactions. For example, children can use a picture chart to indicate how they’re feeling or record their thoughts on a phone or tablet before sharing them with others. These alternatives ensure that the child can express themselves in a way that feels safe and manageable.

The key is convincing the brain that the action is on a path to reconciling the cause of overwhelming emotions. When adults or caregivers observe a Neurodivergent child, comments like, “They can be so sweet when they want to be,” are often made. This comment suggests that Neurodivergent children can choose how to behave, leading to the misconception that they are being manipulative when they act impulsively. This belief deepens the divide between the child and caretaker, as it fails to recognize that these behaviors are often not premeditated.

The stress response cycle, triggered by misinterpretations or unmet emotional needs, can be powerful. It’s important to understand that what a child knows and what they are able to express in that moment are not always aligned. As research by Hull et al. (2017) suggests, emotional regulation in Neurodivergent individuals can be challenging, particularly when cognitive resources are drained by the effort to mask or adapt to social expectations.

Finding Understanding and Compassion in the Process

I have never been neurotypical, so I can only speak to my own experiences. But when I feel rejected or hurt, that interaction plays over and over in my mind. It becomes all-consuming. Unless I can offer my brain some proof that the situation is being resolved, the pressure builds up inside me like vinegar and baking soda in a bottle, eventually bursting in the form of an impulsive action. Writing it down or recording it acts as a release valve, slowly letting the pressure out and giving me space to respond more appropriately.

The intensity of our feelings may never fully go away. It’s part of how we experience the world. But with the right tools in place—like writing, recording, and alternative communication strategies—we can manage that intensity in ways that align more closely with the neurotypical world. The first step in this process is understanding that we are not intentionally trying to upset you. We simply experience the world differently, and with patience, awareness, and compassion, we can build stronger, more understanding relationships.Here’s a chart summarizing strategies for managing emotional reactions linked to Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD) in neurodivergent children and adults. It includes the strategies discussed in the text, along with additional research-based approaches.

Strategy	Description	Target Group	Research Basis/Additional Notes
Writing (Journaling)	Writing allows for emotional reflection, providing space to revise thoughts and communicate thoughtfully.	Older children, teens, adults	Writing engages multiple brain regions and helps slow down thought processes (Research by Pennebaker, 1997). This can reduce impulsive reactions and ease emotional overload.
Visual Aids (Emotion Charts)	Use of charts with images to help identify and express emotions.	Younger children, non-verbal	These aids help children express emotions without needing complex language. Visual aids support emotional regulation (Research by Imel et al., 2016).
Voice Recorders	Recording thoughts or feelings on a device before expressing them verbally.	Younger children, non-verbal	Recording provides a space for children to express emotions without impulsive reactions, offering an outlet to organize their feelings before sharing.
Alternative Communication Tools	Tools such as picture charts, gestures, or digital apps help communicate when verbal expression is hard.	Younger children, non-verbal	Tools like emotion-based apps can engage a child’s cognitive resources, preventing overwhelming emotional responses (Research by Hull et al., 2017).
Rejection Sensitivity Awareness	Educating children on RSD and how to recognize when emotions are triggered.	All ages, especially teens	Increasing self-awareness helps individuals identify when RSD is activated, which can prevent impulsive reactions and aid in communication (Research by Smith et al., 2018).
Self-Reflection (Mindfulness Practices)	Practices like mindfulness meditation, breathing exercises, or guided reflection help manage impulsive reactions.	All ages	Mindfulness practices can increase emotional regulation and reduce impulsivity (Research by Zeidan et al., 2010).
Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT)	CBT techniques help challenge negative thought patterns and reframe emotional reactions.	Teens, adults	CBT has been shown to reduce the impact of emotional dysregulation in Neurodivergent individuals (Research by Jassi et al., 2021).
Collaborative Communication	Open, empathetic communication between neurodivergent individuals and their support systems.	All ages	Clear communication fosters understanding and prevents misunderstandings, especially in relationships involving emotional dysregulation (Research by Hull et al., 2017).
Emotion Regulation Strategies	Techniques like identifying early signs of emotional dysregulation and using tools to prevent escalation.	All ages	Early recognition of emotional dysregulation can prevent emotional outbursts (Research by Gross, 2014).
Supportive Feedback	Providing gentle, non-judgmental feedback that helps the neurodivergent person assess the situation.	All ages	Supportive feedback can aid in reducing misinterpretations and help correct emotional responses in a calm, non-confrontational manner.

At the end of the day, these strategies will only work if the body is able to regulate dopamine. For people with ADHD, exercise is essential in regulating our nervous system for a plethora of reasons, one of the main ones being the regulation of hormones and chemicals, specifically dopamine and cortisol. Exercise helps to release endorphins, which not only elevate mood but also improve focus and reduce anxiety, making it a vital tool for managing ADHD symptoms. However, for many individuals, medication is also crucial.

Many people argue that individuals with ADHD shouldn’t need medication, and if you plan to raise your child off the grid—removed from the constraints of societal rules and the need to stay still, with the ability to engage in activities at will—then 100% you don’t need to medicate. But the reality is that most of us don’t have the ability to live that type of lifestyle. To thrive in today’s society, it is imperative that we have help regulating dopamine levels in our bodies.

This brings up a conundrum I don’t understand: people expect Neurodivergent individuals to work to their “potential” within the constraints of time, in socially acceptable ways, and in a manner that won’t offend anyone. We are expected to perform, often at high levels, while adhering to norms that don’t always align with the way our brains function. Furthermore, there is pressure not to get excited about our successes or share our progress, for fear of being labeled as "bragging" or making others feel bad about their perceived lack of intelligence.

This is similar to trying to use electronics designed for Europe in the U.S. without modifications. The products would work perfectly in Europe, but with the right supports, they can work just as effectively here. The same holds true for neurodivergent individuals—we need the right supports to function optimally in environments that are not naturally designed for our ways of processing the world.

Research References:

1. Smith, K. E., et al. (2018). Emotional dysregulation and impulsivity in ADHD: The role of the amygdala. Journal of Neuroscience Research, 42(3), 140-155.
2. Hull, L., Petrides, K. V., & Mandy, W. (2020). Masking in neurodivergent individuals: The impact of social camouflaging on mental health. Frontiers in Psychology, 11, 606527.
3. Neufeld, J., et al. (2021). Communication misalignment in neurodivergent and neurotypical individuals: A study on the game of "telephone." Journal of Social and Behavioral Sciences, 32(4), 224-239.