Wired Wonderfully: Neurodiversity Celebration Week

Article written by a Student Editor

Neurodiversity Celebration Week isn’t just about awareness - it’s about appreciation and acceptance. I spent years trying to fit into a world that was never built for a mind like mine: a mind that doesn’t need fixing, but understanding. I’m neurodivergent, and I’m writing this to spread awareness because society has painted us as people with “broken” minds when, in reality, our minds are brilliantly wired.

People often assume that neurodivergence will be obvious, yet most of us hide behind a façade: smiling when we’re overwhelmed, sitting still when every thought races, staying quiet when our ideas are loud. This is what neurodivergence really looks like. It isn’t a limitation; it’s a different lens, and the world looks better when we see through all of them. The question isn’t “Why can’t they fit in?” but, “Why is the box so small?”.

It can sometimes feel we are expected to be perfect copies of one another, but neurodivergence challenges that idea. People either hate it or love it because they fear “what ifs” and “buts.” Most people limit themselves like this too. It’s not your life if you constantly worry about what others think of you. Why should you? You could be the sweetest peach on the tree, but some people just don’t like peaches. It’s not your fault they don’t like peaches, and no matter how much you change that peach, they still won’t like peaches. So why change yourself to fit into a world that was never built for you?

If someone says they don’t like your blue hair when you don’t have blue hair, why would you be bothered? So what if they judge you? Who cares? You are you; they are them. Let them be wrong. Live your life for yourself. You have nothing to prove. Do what makes you happy because, in the end, they will judge you no matter what. Judging a person doesn’t define who they are; it defines who you are.

Back to Neurodivergence Week: being neurodivergent isn’t always fun. No one sees the constant battles you fight each day, or understands how upsetting it is when people make jokes about neurodivergence or when people who aren’t neurodivergent misuse terms like “hyper fixation” or “stimming” to mock us. I wish people understood that ADHD, autism spectrum disorder, dyslexia, dyscalculia and similar conditions are disabilities – not just a reason to leave five minutes early, have extra time on tests or fidget. They are real struggles, not excuses. No matter how friendly I am, I always seem to upset or disappoint friends and family - by saying something I meant to sound nice, by being too loud, by being overstimulated and so much more. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I wasn’t neurodivergent, but then I realise that’s what makes me who I am, and I would never change that.

Here’s a common example of what we face: if I said, “I’m a brunette,” and someone responded with, “No, no, don’t do that to yourself; you’re a person with brown hair,” it would come across as if having brunette hair were something negative. It suggests it’s wrong to associate that trait with my identity, as if it’s something shameful that needs to be separated from who I am. The same applies to other traits. If I said, “I’m athletic; I play sports,” no one would respond with, “No, don’t do that; you’re a person with athletic abilities.” That would sound unnecessary and strange because being athletic is generally seen as a positive thing, so there’s no pressure to distance it from identity. So why is it different when it comes to disabilities? When people say, “No, you’re a person with autism, not an autistic person,” it creates a double standard. If you wouldn’t correct someone in those other examples, why is it acceptable here? The message, whether intended or not, is that autism is something negative or shameful, something that should be separated from a person’s identity. But for many people it isn’t separate - it’s an integral part of who they are. While it’s true that I’m more than just my autism, being told to distance it from my identity can feel invalidating. Instead of helping, it can come across as misunderstanding and even a bit belittling, as if my way of describing myself is wrong.

Behind every diagnosis is a person who has a right to be seen this week, and every week. We are proof that there is more than one way to think, feel and exist, and every single one of them matters. If you’ve ever felt broken, remember it was never you - it was the mirror you were handed.

Here’s a piece from a parent of neurodivergent children:

Every day can be a struggle, but I couldn’t be prouder of how we’ve learned what works. What works for one of my neurodivergent children won’t necessarily work for the other because autism is that diverse.

The world isn’t built to be neurodiverse‑friendly, so imagine trying to fit into a box that simply wasn’t made for you; it’s uncomfortable, and over time it takes its toll. Noise, smells, social cues – these can all be overwhelming, even when it’s not obvious to others. Yet my children keep going, sometimes pushing themselves beyond healthy limits, which can affect both their mindset and their physical well‑being. Burnout is always a concern, and finding the balance between what they need to do and time to rest and reset is so important. Their minds work in incredible ways, coming up with ideas that can truly amaze you. Their empathy runs deep too: they go out of their way to include others because they never want anyone to feel as lonely or misunderstood as they once have.

I have no doubt that, with the right support around them, they will thrive in adulthood. We’ve come a long way in understanding, but we still have a long way to go to achieve true inclusion for all.