The summer it all unravelled

How I'm finally learning to let go of being a ‘good girl’

Dear neurokin,

When I was in the very early days of exploring what autism meant for me, I remember saying to someone “it feels like everything is unravelling”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, that sounds awful”

I remember being taken aback by their reply, because yes, I was really battling with some big emotions, but unravelling felt like a good thing.

It felt like I was getting nearer to understanding the truth about myself.

Like when you get all the knots out of a tangled mess; wires and cables tangled in a drawer, a necklace that has become tangled in transit into a knotted mess.

It’s a total pain, but tenaciously I will sit there, slowly and patiently (mostly!) I will try to work out how to untangle the mess.

There is not a lot of logic to working out the tangled puzzle. At times, I try to work out the pattern or a system to unravel the mess.

In the end I realise that I just need to patiently and gently work with the knots to ease them out.

The neurodivergent discovery was key and powerful, its when the unraveling began.

As I’ve grown in self understanding and compassion it’s allowed me to continue to grow and examine the layers underneath that.

Can you relate to this?

Has your neurodivergent discovery felt like you’re unravelling something in yourself?

A knot I unravelled that felt awful and terrifying, at first..

This summer I embarked on some trauma therapy, known as NARM therapy.

I shan’t share the why’s or wherefores or bare my soul here, or anywhere, about exactly what that entailed.

I will say, it’s helping me to reprogram my nervous system, accessing resources that allow me to take care of those painful parts.

The somatic element, where you access memories from your body about past difficulty, has been what’s been the most surprising, in the hidden treasures it uncovered.

I’ve also loved the spaciousness its created to understand the resources I have now, as an emotionally maturing adult, to take care of those younger troubled parts.

Slowly, I’m learning to connect and attune.

Many women feel obliged to write about or to answer questions about deeply personal, often traumatic, things in order to justify our presence or to make our voices heard.

I learned this the hard way in having my first book published.

Whilst, I am proud of the book I wrote and how it has been massively helpful to women going through your own journey of neurodivergent acceptance, I was ill prepared for how troublesome it was to keep prodding at some really painful memories and writing about them, to illuminate the difficulty in growing up without information about what made me different; neurodivergent, autistic with a sprinkle of ADHD.

This continues to be a balancing act and one I am pondering right now, when considering what to write about, that will help those of you reading this, in learning about your own neurodivergence.

For all of us neurokin, unravelling is a necessary part of our own late life understanding and acceptance of our neurodivergence.

The peeling back of the layers continues beyond neurodivergent discovery. Each layer revealing a new truth, a new way of being, new resources we can tap into.

Some layers have bigger impacts on our life, the relationships we have, it may bring change to how we live our life.

This was the layer I took on this summer.

At times I have wanted to time travel back to the beginning and just not peel back the layer. Hands over my ears humming “la la, lah, la, lah” to shut out the thoughts and to silently tell myself “no, no, let’s not look at this, it’ll cause a lot of pain”

And that is what many of us have been forced into from an early age, to not ask questions. Sit there quietly and don’t make a fuss. Not examining our own difficulty or even to share that we are struggling.

So often I’ve been praised for being “no trouble” and being “easy going” …. A ‘good girl’

Misunderstanding safety

So many of us can relate to people pleasing and it feels safe, funny even, to admit “I’m a recovering people pleaser”

There is a much deeper and darker consequences of people pleasing and I think that’s what I want to explore with you over the next month. To share more with you about what I’ve been learning about the consequences of pushing aside your own difficulties, stressful or distressing events.

When you learn from an early age that its safest for you to just keep everything to yourself, to not create discomfort for other people, by sharing your own feelings and emotions that might be difficult for them, this can become your blueprint for safety.

This might have led you to believe that its is not safe to speak up with your alternative thoughts or truth of difficulty. That its not safe to stand out, you must blend in and go along with the crowd.

You might have relationships with people who don’t really talk much about their feelings, show vulnerability or speak of struggles. Instead they deflect, defend and ridicule you for wanting to talk about these things too.

If you’ve grown up with this familiar pattern, you might mistake it for safety and continue to feel shame or wrongness for wanting deeper connections.

“You’re too sensitive”

Or too dramatic or you’re overreacting. Sound familiar?

In a state of distress, with a dysregulated nervous system or in a meltdown we may have received these messages. We may have been shamed for showing our overwhelm.

Often, It has become overwhelming for us because we’ve shoved our true feelings and desires for connection down, silenced them, to be ‘the good girl’ who is no trouble.

This can lead us to dissociate, disconnect or numb our pain in ways that damage our health.

For a very long time I have wanted, more than anything, to deeply connect with humans.

Until I knew I was autistic I just thought there was something wrong with me and that’s why I couldn’t connect deeply.

Then when I accepted that I am autistic and I connect with the world and people differently, it led me to delve into what is really holding me back from a depth of human connection and intimacy I’m longing for.

I’m learning what it means to connect and attune to my own feelings, needs and how I can finally voice my truth in ways that are safe for me.

Trusting and believing that my truth, is my truth. It’s not wrong and that its not my role to protect everyone from everything.

This is why this unravelling has been a hugely positive experience for me. I’m finally learning how to connect, attune and to trust myself and to let go of the obligation to always be the ‘good girl’ the one who is easy going and makes life easy for others.

What’s unravelling in you?

Does any of this unravelling that I’ve shared resonate with you?

Have you peeled back another layer of your own truth recently?

• What’s it been like for you?

• What’s been the most difficult aspect?

• What positive change is it bringing for you?

Loving and living your neurodivergent life

I think I’m in that place when the knot is set free and it’s probably a bit shocked at the exposure of this new untangled space.

I reached a point where it would be more painful to not look at my truth than it was to really understand how my past pain was preventing me from really living in ways that are my soul’s essence.

It’s been really uncomfortable not really knowing what direction I’m heading in with life and work. I haven’t felt motivated to pursue the thrill of getting stuff done, I haven’t been driven to achieve things.

I’ve really resisted rushing off in an unclear direction, with only a vague notion of my reason why or forcing answers to come.

As someone whose anxiety responses have driven me to people please and get validation from achievements this has been new territory.

And, I’m starting to learn to trust myself.

I think this is where I’m taking Belong…we are neurokin; the learnings and wisdom from myself and other neurodivergent women living beyond late life discovery.

Sharing with you how you can live in alignment with the natural rhythm and dynamic of your neurodivergence.

I know when you’re going through your own unravelling reading stories of other experiences, that mirror your own, can be so helpful. That’s one of the reasons I love Substack so much - the learning that I get from other writers sharing their lived experiences.

In order for me to have a level of safety as a writer, when I share some of my deeper truths and experiences, along with learning prompts and resources for you, some of these will be paywalled.

That gives me a level of protection in knowing that those of you who really want to explore this for yourself are offering me your support as a paid subscriber.

Andrea xx