Neurodivergent Shame, Self-Worth and the Messages We Carry
Too dramatic. Too sensitive. Intense.
Too quiet, too shy, unsociable.
If you’re ADHD, autistic or AuDHD, the chances are you’ve heard some version of both. Not from the same person, necessarily, or in the same moment. But over time, the message builds: however you are, it’s somehow wrong. Never quite the right kind of present.
That’s a difficult thing to carry. And it’s not something people carry consciously. It sits underneath; in the way you second-guess yourself before speaking, in the effort you put into reading a room before deciding how much of yourself to show, in the quiet assumption that the safest option is to take up less space.
For many neurodivergent people, these messages start early. In classrooms where you were told to calm down, pay attention, stop fidgeting, or speak up. In friendships where you felt like you had to work harder to fit in. In families where your intentions were lost in the way you expressed yourself. It settled.
Over time, it can become something you believe about yourself rather than something others have told you. The voice shifts from external to internal. You stop needing someone else to say “you’re too much” because you’re already saying it to yourself. Before a conversation, before a meeting, before walking into a room. The monitoring becomes constant, and it’s exhausting.
This is where shame can quietly take root. Not the sharp, obvious kind. The slow kind. The kind that says “I need to be less of this and more of that” without ever being satisfied with where you land. It shapes how you see yourself, how you relate to others, and how much of your energy goes into managing how you come across rather than simply being who you are.
This is something I hear a lot. People who describe themselves as “too much” or “not enough” as though these are facts rather than a belief. And one of the things that can make a difference is having a space where those beliefs can be looked at gently; not corrected or challenged, but explored. Where did this come from? Whose voice is this? And does it still fit?
Because I wonder sometimes whether the question isn’t really about being too much or not enough at all. I wonder whether, for some people, the environments and expectations around them simply weren’t enough for who they are. Not the other way around.
That can be a difficult thing to sit with. It doesn’t undo the years of self-monitoring or the tiredness that comes with it. But it can shift something quietly. The possibility that the problem was never you.
If any of this has resonated and you’d like some support in exploring how these patterns show up for you, you’re welcome to get in touch.
Recent Comments