By Yamila García

Every time I take a test, I sit down, look at the sheet, and I don’t recognize anything I read. Although I have studied a lot and know the subject very well, as soon as I look at the sheet, everything I studied seems to have been erased. I know it sounds scary; maybe at some point many years ago I could have been nervous about this situation, but not now. Yes, it worries me a little at first, but as soon as I remember that I always work like this, I am sure that I will start to remember. If I still feel anxious about it, I repeat to myself: “It’s coming, it’s coming,” and simply try to rewrite my test questions or the data that they include in the statements.

After so many years as a student, I know that everything I studied will start to come to me after a while. Sometimes I start to remember slowly, but other times everything comes like an avalanche, remembering many things at the same time and at great speed. In the latter case, I tend to write down everything that comes to my mind in a rough draft. Sometimes everything comes so fast that I can confuse things. Once that burst stops, I start working with the notes I made, and it all makes more sense now. The exam becomes doable this way.

As you can imagine, that takes up part of the time I have to do my exam. Sometimes it has taken me up to 1 hour or even more… And it’s hard to keep calm because even if I repeat to myself that this always happens and that “it’s coming,” I start to wonder: “What if it doesn’t this time?” Actually, it has never happened to me that I didn’t remember anything. Always, sooner or later, the information reaches me, and I am able to do my exams. The thing is, in order to have extra time and a quiet place to do my exams, I need to request accommodations. Otherwise, I could not carry out this process in a reduced time and in a shared space with constant noise and movement. Although I am grateful to be able to have accommodations, I wonder how we could have regular exams more accommodating. Maybe some folding panels and some noise-canceling earmuffs available in the classroom could help more people than just the ones with an official diagnosis. I know many people struggle with the same and could take advantage of a more accommodating environment too.

By Yamila García

As someone who discovered being neurodivergent not too long ago, I continue to analyze and discover myself. Through this process, I have gained a deeper understanding of how I unconsciously mask many of my differences. I’ve also noticed that this behavior varies depending on the person I’m interacting with. One aspect I consistently mask is my avoidance of making eye contact. I’ve realized that when I force myself to do so, I blink more frequently, and this only happens with people who are unaware of my neurodivergence. However, when someone is aware and accepting of it, I feel more at ease, allowing myself not to make direct eye contact or occasionally break it to regulate my feelings. Besides, I have also noticed that in the first case, I mask and wish not to, whereas, in the latter, I don’t need to mask, but sometimes I try to make eye contact as a sign of appreciation for the person’s openness and understanding, knowing that it’s often considered a way to show respect.

I’ve noticed that when I don’t fully comprehend what others are saying, I tend to assume a shy and quiet role. Not because that’s truly who I am, but because it’s easier to justify my minimal interaction in such situations. I have heightened sensitivity, and how I communicate often depends almost entirely on the person I’m engaging with. It’s as if I absorb their energy completely. When the other person is calm, understanding, and respectful, I find it much easier to communicate harmoniously. Conversely, if the person comes across as egocentric, arrogant, or pushy, it becomes almost impossible for me to interact effectively. In these instances, my body responds physically, making it difficult to breathe, and I experience a strong urge to escape the situation, leading to an increased heart rate.

Masking is not a conscious choice; it’s a learned behavior that I adopted unconsciously to avoid drawing attention to myself. Perhaps my unconscious thought process was that it’s better to blend in rather than reveal my many differences and face scrutiny. I’m still trying to understand my motivations. What I do know is that becoming aware of when and why I mask helps me better understand myself and empowers me to decide whether I want to continue doing it or not. I’m not saying it’s as simple as pressing a button and turning off this protection mechanism that I’ve created for myself, but I believe that self-awareness is a valuable tool in determining who we want to be, when, and with whom we choose to be that way.

By Yamila García

My ability to recognize patterns allows me to learn in a very different way from most people. Typically, in the classes I have taken, particularly those with a practical component alongside theory, the topics are presented orally, sometimes with accompanying slides displaying formulas or graphs. Then, students are assigned practical exercises. However, I am unable to immediately complete these exercises since I don’t process auditory information automatically. I require time to contemplate the material, and most importantly, I need visual demonstrations in order to identify the logical connections on my own. This is how I learn.

As my eyes wander, scanning the visuals without any apparent order, I search for similarities, connections, and logical patterns. Thus, I get a deeper understanding within seconds, as opposed to spending hours listening to an oral explanation. This learning approach proves highly effective in subjects such as mathematics, chemistry, and physics, as long as the necessary conditions are met. If, on the other hand, I am only provided with an oral explanation without step-by-step guidance, it becomes nearly impossible for me to learn. Additionally, classes in which nothing is logical or deducible are extremely challenging for me. Subjects like history or literature have always presented difficulties for me since there is nothing to deduce, and I must solely rely on the oral explanation.

Based on my unique learning experiences, I wish I could choose how I learn. I believe it is crucial not only to study subjects aligned with our passions but also to learn in the most efficient way for each individual. I am aware that there are others like me, but there are also individuals who learn better through oral theoretical explanations or demonstrations of concepts in laboratory experiments. Considering the limitations of traditional classroom settings, I have consistently felt that I haven’t been able to fully leverage my abilities. Consequently, my performance has often been mediocre. Unfortunately, some people label neurodivergent individuals as disabled, when in reality the incapable is the system that does not know how to take advantage of our abilities.

By Yamila García

When I was little and felt overwhelmed, I would crawl under my desk into a tiny square space. That allowed me to reconnect with myself. I would go in there to watch my favorite cartoons, and gradually I would regain touch with reality. I would calm down and feel ready to resume whatever I was doing before seeking comfort in my little square sanctuary. I’m not sure when I started doing this, but I knew it made me feel safe. Even back then, without knowing I had autism, I instinctively sought ways to alleviate my struggles. I also engaged in soothing behaviors since I was a baby, but I hid them even though there was nothing wrong with them. I simply noticed that others weren’t doing them. One of these behaviors was rubbing a cloth, while another was scratching grooved textures.

Through my childhood experiences, I learned that I needed control. I require things that are familiar and predictable… I need either a small space that I can analyze with the naked eye, a few people to read the expressions of when I speak, the flavors of my food not mixing, etc. Although during my childhood and adolescence, I often believed that others perceived the world like me but were stronger, with time I came to understand that I couldn’t have been more mistaken. The way I perceive the world is very different from how neurotypicals do.

I have encountered people whose expressions revealed an urgent need for what comforts them. I can recognize it because I have experienced it many times myself. That longing to reconnect brings about discomfort and despair. It also evokes embarrassment because it is not easy to accept that you need something as seemingly trivial as a piece of cloth or a fidget toy, a small hiding place, or a particular scent to regain your footing and continue on your way normally. The world may tell you it’s stupid but if, for you, it is necessary, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Neurodivergent individuals are unique, and thus, we have different methods of processing our emotions. These methods must be acknowledged and shared; otherwise, the world will never be prepared for true inclusion. Do not hide anymore, open up to your friends and family about how you soothe and calm yourself. The more they understand, the better equipped they’ll be to comprehend your needs and support you when necessary.

By Yamila García

Since the day I found out I was neurodivergent, I haven’t stopped learning and reconciling with myself. I carried a lot of guilt for always being so different from others. I didn’t understand myself or know why I felt the way I did, and for that, I blamed myself. Although it may seem contradictory, during my adolescence, I accepted and embraced being different because, in reality, it was impossible for me to hide it. However, I was frustrated by the consequences that this entailed. Being different meant that my social life was always limited by how I perceived the world. If I met someone new, the next time I saw them, I wouldn’t recognize them because I just don’t remember faces. I thought, “I’m so stupid! It’s not that difficult to remember a face…” However, today I know that many of us do not recognize faces because we do not see the big picture first, but the details, just the opposite of how many neurotypicals do. I don’t blame myself anymore for this, but I have also learned to see it as an ability. There are many situations in which it is better to see the details first and then focus on the big picture.

Many of the characteristics of neurodivergents can be interpreted in two different ways: as a flaw or as an ability. The interpretation will depend on who is looking and what perspective they take. I could say that I find it difficult to adapt to the new, or I could also say that I don’t need to buy new things all the time and that, thanks to feeling comfortable with familiar objects, the things that I have last for many years, thereby contributing to the environment. I could also say that I struggle with oral communication, or I could instead say that since I am not talkative, I am good at listening and observing, which makes me empathetic. I could also say that sudden changes affect me, but I can also say that I am actually a very organized person and it works very well when planning. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that if at any time you feel “failed” or that something in you doesn’t work well, look for that other interpretation. Nothing is all bad; it’s probably just different, but that doesn’t mean there’s no value in it. The world may not yet be ready to appreciate the abilities of neurodivergents, but the first step to changing that is for us to learn to appreciate them ourselves.