The Impact of Neurodiversity on Mental and Physical Health: Unpacking the Connection

I never thought that I'd use such a big word like neurodiversity, especially knowing that the world is filled with neurotypicals who act like they just graduated from the School of Common Sense. It's like our parents expects us to be cookie-cutter versions of each other, perfectly baked and decorated, while I'm over here like a half-baked soufflé—fluffy in some spots and a total flop in others! Have you ever been compared to someone as a child? You know, like when your teacher says, "Why can't you be more like Billy?" And I'm just standing there thinking, "Because I don’t have a secret stash of glitter and a pet rock collection, that’s why!"

My journey to embracing my beautiful neurodivergent life started barely a year ago, and let me tell you, it has been as liberating as finally discovering that the "mute" button on Zoom actually works! Having coached women for almost a decade, I was always surrounded by neurotypicals, viewing life through their perfectly organized, color-coded eyes, while secretly wishing I could think like them. Spoiler alert: I can't. And honestly, who wants to? It all led to some hilariously awkward social behaviors that could make a stand-up comedian weep with joy.

• Like that time I tried to make small talk and ended up overthinking and talking completely off-topic. Talk about a conversation killer!

• Or when I confidently walked into a room and accidentally greeted a potted plant as if it were an old friend. It was a real “leaf” of absence!

• And let’s not forget the epic fail of trying to read the room—turns out, I was just reading the snacks table instead.

But hey, if life gives you lemons, make lemon meringue pie! Or at least, that’s what I tell myself while I awkwardly navigate this wonderfully weird world.

What really makes us unique is embracing the version of ourselves that the world can't understand—basically being the quirky unicorn in a field of horses and confidently trotting around like we own the place. I'm most grateful for Judy Singer, who gave us neurodiverse women a voice. It took me 30 years to realize I was dyslexic and probably on the autistic spectrum as a child. I mean, it’s not like I was busy trying to figure out why I was reading “cat” as “tac” and thinking it was a new language!

It also took having 3 out of my 4 sons on the autism spectrum to appreciate the struggles I had as a child. Who knew that parenting would turn into a live-action version of “Survivor: Autism Edition”? But hey, this discovery impacted my mental health greatly. I went from feeling like a confused potato to a fabulous, self-aware potato who finally understands why I sometimes prefer talking to my plants over people. And let’s be honest, my plants are much better listeners! This whole journey has also improved my body's homeostatic response—whatever that means. I just know I’m feeling more balanced, like a tightrope walker who finally found their groove (or at least a really good pair of shoes).

Neurodiversity refers to the natural variation in human brain function and behavior, which is a fancy way of saying that our brains are like snowflakes—no two are exactly alike, and some might even have a little extra sparkle! It encompasses conditions such as autism spectrum disorder (ASD), attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), dyslexia, and others. Think of it as the brain’s version of a mixed bag of jellybeans: some are sweet, some are nutty, and some might leave you wondering what flavor you just tried!

This concept emphasizes that these variations are not inherently deficits but rather differences that contribute to the rich tapestry of human experience. It’s like a quilt made by your grandma—some patches are vibrant and colorful, while others are a bit questionable (was that a cat or a potato?). However, the relationship between neurodiversity and mental and physical health is multifaceted and warrants closer examination. After all, just like you wouldn’t trust a cat to guard your sandwich, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions about brain differences without digging a little deeper!

Now this is getting too long, and hopefully, you're enjoying the flow! Or maybe you're just wondering if I've accidentally set a world record for the longest monologue since Shakespeare decided to take a coffee break. Would you like me to continue, or should I geek out on you in part 2 of this blog? I promise it’ll be like a sequel to a movie—sometimes better, sometimes worse, but definitely with more explosions and a plot twist involving a talking cat!

See you in part 2