Sarah Boon

I have been posting online about my experience of being neurodivergent for some time now. It all started 7 years ago when I finally received my late autism diagnosis, and then my ADHD diagnosis a year later. Even compared to now, it felt like there were a lot fewer openly neurodivergent people. It’s something I was seeking desperately and, in fairness, I needed as part of processing what it actually meant to be a neurodivergent person when it was still all so new for me. The only place I was aware of at the time to connect with other neurodivergent people was the internet. 

I started by following people on social media whose experiences mirrored mine in some way. It was the first time I came across individuals who had the language to explain so much about my experiences that I couldn’t make sense of before for decades. It was a relief to understand the reason why I felt so different from most others, and why certain things that came to others easily felt like an uphill battle for me. 

After a while of reading people’s experiences online, I finally took the plunge and started replying to people once I knew for certain I wasn’t neurotypical. Replying to other neurodivergent people and having these conversations made me feel seen and understood in a way I couldn’t even imagine was possible before. It became a vital lifeline. Especially as the world went into lockdowns shortly after realising I am neurodivergent. Through the conversations I was starting to have online around being neurodivergent, I then decided to share and open up about parts of my story too. Decades of masking to extremes had taken such a high toll personally that I had enough and knew it wasn’t sustainable to live life fully masked 24/7. However, I didn’t know how to unmask at first or where I could do this safely. Social media was the first place that presented itself to me to explore unmasking, which also seemed to be a less risky place to do that (at least initially). 

As I had enough of the extreme of suppressing everything for virtually my whole life up until that point, I went to the other extreme of becoming a chronic oversharer online. Granted, putting pen to paper was useful in processing my thoughts around understanding my neurodivergence, but some of that stuff was so personal. As I look across some of my old social media posts, I think, “Why did I feel the need to be so public about this?” Some of it may have been due to ADHD and impulsively posting, but now I think I could have still made the same points I was sharing online without sharing personal details that the internet didn’t need to know. While I was chronically oversharing on social media, my content was starting to go viral back then, before Twitter’s demise. Going from feeling misunderstood my whole life to thousands of people validating your experiences in a small space of time is wild. It is certainly something I never planned or anticipated. It just happened. 

Noticing how others were feeling, seen through my writing in ways I know would have helped a younger version of myself, was compelling. I also felt a responsibility to keep on sharing with an audience of strangers because of this, which turned into feeding a demand. Although I did enjoy writing and sharing a lot of the content, I think my biggest issue was that I did this before thinking about my boundaries with sharing my personal experiences and story. I’ve deleted some previous content I’ve shared online, which, in hindsight, now feels too personal for strangers to view. I’ve never shared my full story, and I don’t think I ever will. But some of the anecdotes I had shared previously, I wouldn’t share now. I don’t owe anybody all the details of my life. I am happy to talk about my experiences, but I can choose what and how much I share with the world. I can speak about the realities of being neurodivergent without sharing some fairly painful moments of my life in-depth. Ones that I should have kept between people I know and can trust, rather than the whole world to see. 

Despite writing so much about my life online over the last few years, I am actually a more private person in the real world. I do like having an outlet where I can be more open about parts of myself I felt forced to hide for so long. It’s certainly healthier for me mentally to have a space where I can interact with others about being neurodivergent. However, that doesn’t mean I owe the world every single detail, and that I am ultimately the one who decides what the wider world does and doesn’t know about myself. I don’t need to follow a trend or a perceived social media demand to feel seen as a neurodivergent person, which is a trap I certainly fell into. I also wonder how much being ostracised previously led to me feeling this way with social media, especially as it was the first time I felt my neurodivergent self was receiving basic respect from others I hadn’t experienced in the real world before (not all the time though, as social media can still be a nightmare). 

I think having a network of neurodivergent people off social media has helped with this a lot. For things that feel too personal to share on social media, I can now check during private conversations with other people who get it! Something I didn’t have before but probably needed throughout my whole life.

So ultimately, do I regret being open about my neurodivergence online? 

No…

But if I had my time again, I might have been more selective about some personal details I shared about being neurodivergent. Opening up about being neurodivergent has changed my life for the better, and it has led to some incredible opportunities, including becoming a published author. Things I wouldn’t trade at all. However, that doesn’t mean to say I wouldn’t do a few things differently when opening up about my own experience of being neurodivergent. 

If you are reading this and thinking about posting personal content around your own neurodivergence, I would say think about what you would be happy for strangers to know about yourself, as ultimately that’s the reality of posting about our personal lives online. Also, it’s worth thinking about if you are comfortable with friends, family, or employers reading your content, as this can easily happen without you knowing about it. There are no right or wrong answers here, but it is worth considering to avoid posting things that you may later regret! Also, because some neurodivergent people share about their experiences online, doesn’t mean you have to as well. I’ve noticed some people feel pressured to do so because others have made that choice, but there is no obligation. It’s entirely your preference, if you decide to share online or not, and if you do, how much you want to share. 

Nowadays, I share less compared to before, and I just post what I want, when I want. Rather than trying to maximise how far my social media would spread, so the content reaches as many people as possible who may need it. I’ve now realised that if people need my content, they can easily find it, and I can live my life feeling less pressure from social media.  

If you enjoyed this post and like to support my writing, I would be forever grateful if you could buy me a coffee (or tea in my case).

You can also support the blog by purchasing my book ‘Young Autistic and ADHD: Moving into adulthood when you’re multiply neurodivergent’.