"Is it trauma, or am I neurodivergent?"


​

“Is it trauma, or am I neurodivergent?”

This is, hands down, one of the most common questions I hear as a therapist & coach for neurodivergent adults.

There are a lot of reasons why you might be asking this question.

​

  • You’ve always been highly sensitive and can’t figure out if it’s “just your wiring,” or if past experiences made you hypervigilant.
  • You struggle with relationships and wonder if it’s because you’re a neurodivergent person trying to fit into neurotypical spaces, or if it’s because your household was dysfunctional and you never learned what healthy relationships are in the first place.
  • You get angry about things that don’t seem to bother others — like disruptions in routines, unexpected demands, unclear expectations, acts of injustice — and then you feel crazy because you’re the only one having this reaction. Is this a trauma response? Or one of my neurodivergent traits?

​

And if you’re thinking, Well, can’t it be BOTH? What if I’m neurodivergent AND impacted by trauma? — you’re absolutely right (and you’re not alone).

So, here’s my answer to the question, “is it trauma, or am I neurodivergent?”

​

This is not an either-or situation. It’s a both-and.

We live in a world that is inherently stressful & often traumatic for many neurodivergent people (autistic, ADHD, highly sensitive, etc). It is painful to be treated as a different/less than, to be rejected & stigmatized, to have needs ignored, to not be supported or accommodated.

It makes sense that there’s a huge overlap between trauma and neurodivergence. Of course people who are treated poorly by society are more likely to experience emotional & physical health struggles.

And until we build a world that is not inherently stressful for neurodivergent people to exist within, the answer to “is it trauma or am I neurodivergent? (or both?)” will continue to be very complicated.

​

The point of this isn’t to diagnose anyone, though.

The point is to explain why support for neurodivergent people must be trauma-informed — because so many neurodivergent people have experienced trauma.

And in my work with neurodivergent folks, here’s what I’ve noticed:

  • Healing is always possible. Your brain and nervous system always have the capacity to change, build new pathways, and let old ones go.
  • The more you heal, the more you might feel safe to unmask and be yourself.
  • It is a gift to know yourself — your whole, nuanced, complex self.

​

So, my invitation for you?

Let yourself be a work in progress. Allow your answer to the question “is it trauma, or am I neurodivergent?” be as complex and nuanced as it needs to be.

​

Talk soon,

P.S. Interested in working with me 1:1? I offer ​Nervous System Healing Intensives​ (short-term, accelerated support) for highly sensitive, neurodivergent adults, online worldwide. Click ​HERE​ to learn more. And if you want to get an Intensive on the books, contact me ​HERE​.

​ P.P.S. Know someone who needs to hear this? Forward it along. New readers can subscribe ​HERE​.

I help highly sensitive, neurodivergent adults heal their nervous systems & connect with their authentic selves.

HOME
ABOUT
INTENSIVES
SPEAKING
CONTACT

Liz's Neurodivergent Letters

👉🏽 Subscribe for thoughtful, bite-sized emails — from Liz Zhou, a neurodivergent therapist — on how to take care of your nervous system & understand your brain.

Read more from Liz's Neurodivergent Letters
yellow lotus on turquoise background

Would you rather… have a one-on-one hang out with a close friend, or attend a big party next Friday night? spend 1 hour watching entertaining TikTok videos, or diving into a book from your favorite genre? jam out to your favorite same song on repeat, or set your playlist on shuffle and go with the flow? There’s no right or wrong answer. Rather, your answers might reveal whether you prefer horizontal or vertical experiences. Let me explain. Vertical experiences are like digging a hole in the...

yellow lotus on turquoise background

“It’s too quiet here,” one of my college dorm mates is saying. “I couldn’t even sleep last night.” It’s our second day attending college in middle-of-nowhere, Vermont, and we’re still acclimating to our new rural environment. Half-unpacked suitcases lay in our half-decorated rooms. Everyone is still learning each other’s names and how to not get lost on the way to the bathroom. My dorm mate explains that, having grown up in a big city, they aren’t used to pitch-black nights, where you’re more...

yellow lotus on turquoise background

My friend’s mouth is moving and sounds are coming out, but my brain is comprehending about 50% of it. Inside, I’m scrambling. What are we talking about? How should I respond? Then it hits me. “Wait,” I say. “Can we turn off that fluorescent light?” We’re sitting in my living room, and it’s occurred to me that the lights are way too bright. Bright enough to give me a headache. We turn off the fluorescents and replace it with a calmer blue lighting. Ahhh. My nervous system immediately sighs...