First of all, what in the world does it mean to be neuro-spicy? In true Gen Z fashion, we have adopted the term neuro-spicy as a way of describing neurodiversity. Neurodiversity is the diverse range of ways in which the human brain works. It looks at how some brains can interact and analyse things in alternative ways than other brains.
More specifically, neurodiversity is often used to describe people whose brains are perceived to work in an alternative way to the majority of society. The likes of Autism, ADHD, Dyslexia, and Dyspraxi, along with many more conditions, all fall under the umbrella of neurodiversity, and coming to terms with these neurological disabilities can be a challenging process. Especially for women and girls.
Being a neuro-spicy woman comes with a big handful of challenges. For one, boys are four times more likely to be diagnosed with disabilities like Autism than girls, despite research indicating that both sexes are just as likely to have the developmental disability. Recent studies even indicate that approximately 80% of females with autism remain undiagnosed by the age of 18, resulting in autistic women typically having more mental health issues prior to their diagnoses. Studies show there is a significant association between later Autism diagnoses for women in adulthood and lower quality of life.
So why are autistic women more likely to be undiagnosed? This is largely due to gender roles—what are deemed socially acceptable qualities for women are different from those exhibited in men. Behaviours such as passiveness, shyness, relying on others to speak for them or guide them, and difficulty controlling emotions are all indicators of autism, but are also behaviours largely associated with women and girls Because of these societal expectations, we see that girls are less likely to be recognised as autistic.
Our typical ideas of what autism looks like are often more easily recognizable in boys than in girls due to varying social factors and issues of masking their autistic qualities to fit in with society. This causes a major problem by creating the idea that autism and ADHD are “male disorders,” solidifying a problematic and outdated methodology of detecting and diagnosing autism.
But how can you be neuro-spicy and not know it? I was formally diagnosed with Autism, ADHD, Irlen Syndrome, Anxiety, and Depression (I know, it’s a lot) between the ages of 16 and 18. While my diagnosis of Autism and ADHD did surprise me, it also made a lot of sense. I was surprisingly overcome with relief, after years of thinking I was just going insane.
There were many reasons why it took so long for anyone, including myself, to recognise that there was something a bit different about my very own brain. I had always been a shy child, kind of emotional and a little weird, but I had also on the outside appeared to get along with other kids, have lots of friends, and thrive at school.
Yes, I did have a tendency to be a fussy eater and there was always issues of finding specific situations or sensations overwhelming, but in all fairness to my parents I was the oldest of two girls, and so for first-time parents I suppose my mum and dad just thought it was all part of growing up as a girl.
Having an autistic and neurodiverse daughter had never really crossed my parents’ minds, especially because I am rubbish at maths and the New York Times connections game has never once made sense to me, despite autistic people supposedly being good at spotting patterns.
It was only at the age of 15 when the question of me having a learning disability was flagged when a test designed to assess whether students might need extra time in school exams showed that I was ridiculously slow at processing written information.
With that, the excruciatingly slow process to figure what the heck was going on with my brain began. After what felt like countless interrogations from psychologists, doctors, therapists etc, they finally figured out that maybe this emotional wreck of a girl, who is slightly too obsessed with everything being perfect at ALL TIMES, actually needs almost 100 pages of documents to describe what the heck is up with her brain. In summary, they concluded that I am neuro-spicy!
Where does that leave me now? After all those tests, and trust me they do some weird tests, like making you pretend to brush your teeth while three women who fit the exact stereotype of a psychologist with very high pitched condescending voices, sit and watch your 18-year-old ass use an imaginary toothbrush. After all that, I am still me, still a bit weird, but at least now I have an excuse.
But in all honesty, living life as a disabled student is not as humorous as I make it out to be—my first year flat mates certainly didn’t think so when I was having a melt down outside the student union at 3 a.m. because it all got a bit too much.
In many ways I think I have it easy as a disabled person. I have a supportive family and friends, access to education and resources, and am largely able bodied. Yet, at the same time having an invisible disability holds many challenges: the constant need to explain my disability to get the help I need, having to justify why I need to use a disabled bathroom because “I don’t look disabled,” or having people tell me “oh well we are all a little bit autistic” can often feel overwhelming.
I’m left to sometimes feel ashamed to tell people about my differences, especially when I don’t always fit the mold of what people assume a disabled person would be like. Disability definitely does not look, sound, or act in a certain way, it also does not define a person’s existence. Instead, it makes a part of who they are.
I often wonder what I would be like if I didn’t have the conditions that I do. Would I be as anxious, as dependent on my parents, would I be a better big sister? There have been occasions where I have felt a lot of guilt at how much strain my conditions can have on my relationships with my family, partners, or friends, a feeling I think many disabled people feel from time to time.
However, I also think there is a possibility that without my disability, I would be boring, less bubbly or less creative. At the end of the day, I am who I am, I have accomplished the things that I have, made the friends I have because I am me. While my disability of course does not define me, it does make up who I am, quirks and all.
So, in the spirit of autism awareness month, I just want to cast a light and urge you to look into or at least dedicate a few brain cells to thinking about the gender disparities within detecting and researching neurodiversity and disability. And let’s face it, if I were a boy, I might just have been diagnosed sooner, and not have spent so long traumatising my parents because my mum had forgotten to stick to the meal plan of what we were having for dinner that week. Neuro-spicy or not, all of our brains deserve to be understood, respected, and celebrated—quirks, meltdowns, imaginary toothbrushes and all.