​What If ‘Normal’ Isn’t? Unpack Emotional Complexity and Embrace Your Unique Neuro-Blend

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

My friend lent me The Cassandra Complex, a really engaging novel by Holly Smale that blends relationship challenges and time travel with a thought-provoking exploration of neurodiversity and our obsession with getting things right rather than what’s right for us.

I love a well-written character who reflects familiar aspects of myself that I may have otherwise struggled to articulate, even if I don’t share their specific experiences. Cassandra’s approaches—her analytical way of seeing the world, her need for structure, and her reactions to sensory or social situations—feel relatable to me. These traits aren’t exclusive to autism but are part of many people’s experiences. Holly Smale’s writing captures these nuances well, making Cassandra feel both unique and universally accessible, inviting a wide range of readers to see parts of themselves in her, which I appreciate as a core aspect of great writing.

I related to it so much that I filled out the Autism Spectrum Quotient (AQ) questionnaire developed by Dr. Simon Baron-Cohen and colleagues at the Autism Research Centre, a credible tool for identifying autism traits in adults. Scoring in the 26–32 range suggests I might share some traits commonly associated with autism (I snuck in at 26). However, childhood and generational trauma can deeply shape how we experience and react to the world, sometimes in ways that resemble neurodivergent traits. Trauma, particularly during key developmental stages, can affect sensory sensitivity, social processing, and emotional regulation, overlapping with traits seen in autism.

If there were a category for ‘obsession with people’ in diagnosing Asperger's, I’d likely fit on the spectrum more snugly, as my relentless interest in psychology and understanding emotions is profound. This may seem antithetical to traditional views of Asperger's and autism, which often emphasize special interests in technical or solitary subjects. However, many autistic individuals have deep, focused interests in people, emotions, and psychology. This passion for understanding human behavior might appear to contradict the typical portrayal but aligns with a different way of processing the world.

Many autistic individuals are driven by an intense desire to make sense of social dynamics and emotions, especially if these areas have felt challenging or confusing. For some, this focus becomes a lifelong study, not only as a means of connecting with others but also for self-understanding. My relentless curiosity about people and emotions exemplifies this beautifully unique expression, whether it’s linked to neurodivergence, trauma, or both. It highlights the complexity and individuality of our experiences, illustrating why there is such a range of traits within any diagnostic category. That said, I suspect my ability to read people’s expressions and feelings is more a result of heightened awareness developed from emotional experiences and navigating challenging social dynamics rather than being linked to neurodivergent traits.

While many experts now recognize that trauma can impact the nervous system in ways that mimic neurodivergent patterns, some theories suggest that trauma—whether personal or generational—could shape neurodivergence over time. Much of the emergence of neurodivergence, along with expressions of gender identity, sexual orientation, and other forms of diversity in the Western world, stems from the rigid and suppressed expressions of who we are that predate and arose from the Second World War.

Of course, my Heilkunst practitioner would say these traits are typical of the phosphorus constitution. In Heilkunst, there are six healthy constitutional types, akin to personality profiles, and the phosphorus constitution is associated with qualities like emotional depth, creativity, sensitivity, and a strong drive to connect with others—attributes that resonate with my passion for psychology and understanding emotions. She likens this constitution to a balloon bobbing in the air, reflecting how my energy feels—anchored to the earth yet yearning to float and explore my thoughts, psychology, philosophy, and visions for a better future.

This metaphor captures my sense of lightness and exploration, suggesting a natural curiosity and a desire to rise above the mundane. However, I often feel that daily living—showering, dressing, preparing food, maintaining a home—interferes with my desire to escape into my imagination and explore life's deeper questions. My practitioner also mentions that a hallmark of the phosphorus constitution is a "quick-burning bright flame," indicating a tendency toward burnout, and she believes that being tethered to everyday responsibilities can serve as a grounding force.

This struggle between the compelling nature of my inner world and the practicalities of life is common, especially for those of us who thrive on imaginative thinking. While daily routines can feel burdensome, they also provide a necessary balance, helping to manage the intense highs and lows that can arise from immersing myself in my imagination. Finding ways to integrate exploration into daily life—perhaps through mindful eating or infusing creativity into household tasks—could foster a connection between my practical responsibilities and imaginative pursuits.

Ultimately, each framework—neurodiversity, trauma, or Heilkunst—offers valuable insights into our experiences. Exploring these interpretations can deepen self-awareness and aid in our journey toward understanding and healing, highlighting the complexity of human experience.

Earlier in the week, I spoke with a friend whose child had received a diagnosis. They mentioned that other parents were experiencing stigma regarding their children’s diagnoses. To me, the idea of “normal” is outdated; yet it continues to be perpetuated through various systems, including our education and healthcare systems, cultural norms and family expectations, historical contexts, media representation, religious or spiritual contexts, social constructs of beauty and body image, digital spaces and online communities, as well as legal and policy frameworks.

I find the topic of "getting to know ourselves and growing ourselves" endlessly fascinating. I often tell my children that their biggest challenge is to understand themselves well enough to articulate their struggles. For example, in class, I encourage them to say, "This is what I'm struggling with because this is how I'm wired, and this is what would really help." Defining that "this" is the real challenge. Simply stating, "I'm dyslexic," "I'm autistic," or "I have ADHD" doesn’t capture the nuances of their unique neuro-blends, as the typical symptoms and patterns associated with those labels may not fully resonate with their experiences.

The challenge of defining what “this” means—identifying their specific needs and preferences—can be significant, especially when societal expectations and stereotypes around dyslexia, autism, or ADHD do not align with their lived experiences. By promoting deeper self-awareness, we equip our kids with tools to navigate their environments more effectively. This approach fosters resilience and encourages them to seek solutions that truly work for them rather than conforming to generalized expectations.

I believe encouraging them to articulate their struggles and needs based on their unique wiring, rather than solely relying on labels, will prove invaluable. For me, in my 50s, this remains a learning journey, and my self-expression continues to evolve. Recognizing that every individual’s experience of neurodivergence is different emphasizes the importance of personal understanding and self-advocacy.

This focus on understanding their unique neuro-blends not only helps them advocate for themselves but also empowers them to explore their strengths and challenges in a more nuanced way. By normalizing the conversation around self-knowledge, we create an environment where they feel safe to express their individuality and seek the support they truly need. It’s a beautiful way to nurture their growth and help them build confidence in who they are.

In a world that often rigidly defines “normal,” we must challenge these outdated notions and embrace the emotional complexities that make each of us unique. Through the lens of neurodiversity, trauma, and personal experience, let’s explore how our individual journeys shape our understanding of ourselves and others. By examining the interplay between our emotional landscapes and the societal expectations surrounding neurodivergence, we can uncover the beauty of our unique neuro-blends.

As you reflect on your own journey, consider how your emotional complexities influence your self-perception. In what ways have societal norms shaped your identity? I encourage you to take time to journal your thoughts or share your insights with someone you trust. Remember, you are not alone in this exploration—every story adds depth to our collective understanding, and each reflection brings us closer to embracing the beauty of our differences.

If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Normal Is Dysfunctional That Is the Growth Opportunity, How to Appreciate Our Differences Enough to Admire and Want to Embrace Them, Beyond the Whiteboard: Rethinking Education for Diverse Learners and Our Collective Future, Do You Struggle with the Daily Grind? Create a Heartfelt Calendar That Empowers You,  and Our Sensitive Souls. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.