GHA
Well-Known Member
Adaptation — On Your Terms
For as long as I can remember, the advice given to neurodiverse people has sounded the same: you have to adapt. It comes from books, psychologists, motivational speakers — well-meaning, perhaps — but all reading from the same old playbook.
On paper, it sounds reasonable. In reality, I’ve seen up close how much harder it truly is. Adapting often means working against your natural way of thinking and processing, and that’s more than just “effort” — it can become a daily drain. It can mean constantly adjusting your words, your expressions, even the way you react to things, so they fit into what others expect or recognise as “acceptable.”
This is where exhaustion sets in. When adaptation becomes the main goal, it starts to swallow the very energy you could be using to do what you do best — to think, create, and solve in ways most people can’t. And in my experience, that’s where the brilliance of many neurodiverse minds is lost — not because the ability isn’t there, but because the cost of constant adaptation is too high.
Here’s what the years have taught me: the most sustainable adaptation comes from within. It starts when you truly know your own strengths — the things you can do better, deeper, or differently than the majority — and you make those your anchor. Once you are steady in that, adaptation stops being a constant battle and becomes a skill you can switch on when you choose.
When you know your worth and remain focused and determined, adaptation becomes a subset of who you are. You can use it whenever and wherever it’s useful, but it no longer defines you.
Masking all the time is too much to ask of anyone. Selective adaptation — on your terms — allows you to protect your energy, keep your sense of self, and still navigate situations where blending in serves a purpose. The rest of the time, you lead with your strengths.
I share this not as theory, but as someone who has watched the long-term cost of trying to adapt constantly, and the difference it makes when that adaptation comes from choice rather than pressure.
For as long as I can remember, the advice given to neurodiverse people has sounded the same: you have to adapt. It comes from books, psychologists, motivational speakers — well-meaning, perhaps — but all reading from the same old playbook.
On paper, it sounds reasonable. In reality, I’ve seen up close how much harder it truly is. Adapting often means working against your natural way of thinking and processing, and that’s more than just “effort” — it can become a daily drain. It can mean constantly adjusting your words, your expressions, even the way you react to things, so they fit into what others expect or recognise as “acceptable.”
This is where exhaustion sets in. When adaptation becomes the main goal, it starts to swallow the very energy you could be using to do what you do best — to think, create, and solve in ways most people can’t. And in my experience, that’s where the brilliance of many neurodiverse minds is lost — not because the ability isn’t there, but because the cost of constant adaptation is too high.
Here’s what the years have taught me: the most sustainable adaptation comes from within. It starts when you truly know your own strengths — the things you can do better, deeper, or differently than the majority — and you make those your anchor. Once you are steady in that, adaptation stops being a constant battle and becomes a skill you can switch on when you choose.
When you know your worth and remain focused and determined, adaptation becomes a subset of who you are. You can use it whenever and wherever it’s useful, but it no longer defines you.
Masking all the time is too much to ask of anyone. Selective adaptation — on your terms — allows you to protect your energy, keep your sense of self, and still navigate situations where blending in serves a purpose. The rest of the time, you lead with your strengths.
I share this not as theory, but as someone who has watched the long-term cost of trying to adapt constantly, and the difference it makes when that adaptation comes from choice rather than pressure.