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.

By Yamila García

I am one semester away from completing my degree, and it suddenly dawned on me how I managed to survive all those semesters. I believe I was simply somewhat “unaware” of what I was doing. It may sound illogical, but there’s an explanation behind it. My idea of being present many times leads me to want to strive for 100% awareness of all the variables involved, which adds a tremendous emotional burden to my tasks, making it challenging to truly be present. Being neurodivergent, I frequently seek structure, rigidity, and meticulous planning to feel in control of situations. However, when I become a little “unconscious” and focus only on the next step, magic happens. I learned this through a long process of trial and error. On many occasions, my attempts to plan and consider every aspect resulted in accomplishing very little. On the other hand, by surrendering to the moment, I achieved much more. Today, it seems I have finally learned my lesson. In fact, I can’t recall ever thinking about completing my degree. Throughout this journey, the furthest I have thought about is the end of the current semester.

I haven’t completely eliminated anxiety from my thoughts, but by setting shorter-term goals, fears, and doubts have become more manageable. When faced with any challenge necessary to achieve my immediate objectives, I can simply concentrate on that specific task and do what is necessary to overcome it. Often, we burden our minds with concerns about things that are entirely uncertain, things that are far off in the future, or even questionable, whether they will occur at all! However, all we need to do is learn to break down our ultimate goal or problem into smaller, more manageable parts and focus solely on the one that is closest to us. I received this advice long ago, and I am well aware that it is not something easy to accomplish. It has taken me considerable time and numerous mistakes to reach this point. Yet, by adopting this perspective, my anxiety and need for control have become more manageable, and I have achieved more than I realized. Instead of looking at the mountaintop, I now focus on taking the next necessary step to ascend a little further.

By Yamila García

I recently heard someone say that the brain is a social organ. Just as other organs have more visible and easily identifiable physical needs, the brain needs to establish human connections in order to function properly. When, as social beings, we fail to engage in the social interactions that society seems to promote, our brains suffer the consequences.

Being neurodivergent makes it much harder to connect with others. If people are not used to interacting with individuals who are different from them, they tend to give up on their interactions with neurodivergent individuals. Many people may even think that we do not want to interact with them. However, that is far from the reality for many neurodivergent people. A lot of us simply struggle with initiating spontaneous conversations, understanding what is appropriate to say in certain situations, and grasping idioms and slang.

My journey of learning how to interact with people was not easy. There were many times when I wanted to give up. I felt like I just wasn’t cut out for it and that I shouldn’t even try. However, I always recognized the importance of human connections and understood that my comfort zone was not compatible with the growth and development I desired for my life. Connecting with others is one of the most challenging skills I had to learn and continue to learn. English is not my first language, and when I moved from my home country, it felt like I was starting from scratch and that all the progress I made in my native language was useless in this new language. It truly felt like starting over. However, I’ve always been aware that communication and interpersonal relationships are essential for life in society.

My experiences have shown me that friends, peers, and family give meaning and direction to life. They have been my primary support in some situations and my greatest motivation in others. Being part of a community, whether through volunteering, friendship, or family ties, fulfills not only the needs of the brain but also the needs of the heart in non-medical terms. Never isolate yourself. I know it’s not easy sometimes, especially when you feel different and no one seems to understand you. But there is always someone who will understand you. Seek out your community, your support group. Do not disconnect from the world because there will always be others who feel the same way you do.

By Yamila García

Some changes are coming in my life, and having to adapt to something new is always a great challenge for me. I don’t usually get along with changes, but I recognize that they are necessary. I have talked before about being able to recognize when we need support, but I always find it difficult to put it into practice. I have this illogical idea that I “should” be able to handle everything. But no, I can’t, and that’s why this time I asked for help.

I will take a class in the summer simultaneous to those changes that I mentioned before. I know how those changes will affect me. I know I’m going to feel like I’m floating, without anything to hold on to, and that it’s going to take me a while to adjust. I know that this class is going to be a bigger challenge than it would be in times of stability. I contacted my professor, explained my difficulties in adapting to changes, mentioned that I usually take the first few weeks to adapt and end up missing the opportunity to learn, and expressed how uncertainty doesn’t help me adapt more easily.

I asked my professor for the class syllabus and any additional resources they could offer to help me prepare. My professor not only responded immediately but also showed extraordinary kindness and understanding. They sent me the syllabus and slides from previous semesters and expressed that even though they are not neurodivergent, they understand and strive to make their classes inclusive for everyone, regardless of their needs, abilities, and interests. Additionally, my professor offered to meet with me to discuss additional ways to support me in the class and showed their full and complete support.

I understand that professors like mine seek to understand, gather information, and make themselves available to help others, making their path easier. I know they do it consciously and with the intention to support, but even so, the impact they have on students is much greater than they can imagine. I have thought a lot about how this makes me feel, and I believe the best way to express it is that it feels like “an open door.” In many classes, I feel like I’m looking through a small window from the outside, trying to grasp something of what’s happening inside. But in this class, I already feel like I’m being invited to learn and that my presence is welcome. It feels as if my professor has truly opened the door for me and said, “Here is a place for you too. Here, you are not a nuisance or something that bothers me.” If there are professors who, without being neurodivergent, can demonstrate this sensitivity toward students who function differently, I believe that at this point, not being this way is simply a choice.

By Yamila García

Over time we all learn how to handle some of our difficulties. Sometimes we do it so well that they are no longer so hard. Other times, those struggles continue to accompany us throughout our lives. Many of the difficulties we learn to handle also depend on the situations in which we find ourselves. Therefore, it is common to see them reappear. In specific situations in which various aspects of our lives are not in order, struggles that we thought we had under control reappear and are more difficult for us to handle. It’s not that we relapsed, it’s not that we took a step back or unlearned something. It is simply that we are human and we rely not only on our knowledge to function but also on our state of mind and general well-being. I know that ideal conditions rarely occur, but when I talk about complex situations, I am not referring to simple everyday difficulties, but to those moments where all the problems seem to come together at the same time in our lives. In those moments new needs appear.

These needs that appear are are what we need to do to continue to function and go through the situation we are going through. They are a kind of temporary need, which we do not require all the time but which sometimes, given the difficulty of our current reality, become essential to be able to do what we should or want to do. And when these needs appear, many times they also come with a feeling of guilt. We blame ourselves for needing support we thought we didn’t need anymore, we shame ourselves for having to ask for help or not being able to do something we think we “should be able to.” However, this is part of our learning as well. It’s hard to recognize our limitations, I know, but much harder is to pretend we can do something when we really can’t, at least right now. Our value goes far beyond what we can do today, but we are also much more than the sum of the achievements and defeats achieved so far. We are not a mathematical formula and no one’s path is linear. It shouldn’t be. It wouldn’t make sense if it were. Ask for help when you are struggling. That won’t take away value or merit from your struggle and learning. You will still be as valuable as you are. We all need a push eventually.

By Yamila García

Recently, I have been fortunate to experience the value of the support of others. I want to tell you about 2 particular situations that made me see how necessary it is for others to know about our needs as neurodivergents and also gave me hope about how everything can continue to improve.

The first situation occurred with someone I met a short time ago but who is also neurodivergent. From the moment we met we saw many similarities between us and I quickly felt comfortable with her. Over time we both told each other about our differences and it was clear why we understood each other. At one point, a somewhat overwhelming climate was generated in a place where we were, with a lot of noise and external stimuli. She, without me saying anything, realized that I felt overwhelmed and brought her phone closer to me with a texture strip on the back that she uses for soothing. Not only did this get me through the moment, but it made me feel so good to know that someone sees what’s going on and understands without having to explain. You have no idea how significant that was to me, since I grew up believing that we all perceived things the same way but that I was just weaker than the rest of the world. Seeing that someone was able to recognize an overload of stimuli in me felt like one of those tight hugs from the people you love the most.

The other situation occurred with someone I’ve known for a long time and who, despite having communicated my struggles to him, did not seem to really understand how that felt to me. Since he isn’t neurodivergent, I think it is difficult for him to associate external stimuli that are not harmful to him, with something that does me harm. However, this time, when someone was showing me something on his cell phone with a very high volume, I felt that someone was watching me. At that moment, he asked to lower the volume and I smiled. If you’re wondering why I didn’t ask him to turn the volume down, I wonder the same thing myself. I think maybe it’s the habit of masking and hiding anything so as not to expose my differences. Clearly, I do it without realizing it. Anyway, the point is that this person for the first time saw that I was struggling with something and linked it to the correct stimulus that was causing me to overload.

This was only possible thanks to education. We need to continue educating those close to us so that they can understand us. I don’t think there are people who like to make others feel uncomfortable (well maybe yes, but they won’t be the majority). The more we talk about how we perceive the world, the more situations like this we will have. Those who don’t see the world like us neurodivergents won’t understand if we don’t tell them. I know that sometimes it is not easy to speak, especially for fear of prejudice and for the habit of masking, but it is necessary and it can only benefit us in the long run.