Late diagnosis, societal expectations, and the uncomfortable question at the centre of the neurodiversity conversation
We talk a lot about neurodivergence now: ADHD, autism, masking, burnout, sensory overload, executive dysfunction. And rightly so because awareness matters as does language and understanding ourselves.
But lately, I’ve found myself circling a different question entirely: What even is neurotypical? The deeper I go into this work – both professionally and personally – the more I find myself questioning who decided what “normal” means in the first place.
Because when people talk about being neurotypical, what they usually mean is someone whose brain functions relatively well within modern societal expectations. Someone who can generally tolerate:
- linear routines
- busy environments
- rigid schedules
- social demands
- productivity culture
- constant transitions
- sensory overload
- workplace politics
- the expectation to “just get on with it”
But does that necessarily mean “normal functioning”? Or have we quietly started defining “healthy” as: able to comply with modern systems without visibly struggling too much?
That feels like a very different thing. And perhaps that’s why so many late-diagnosed neurodivergent people experience such enormous grief when they finally understand themselves. Because the diagnosis itself is rarely the painful part. Realising how long you measured yourself against standards that may never have been designed with your nervous system, processing style or needs in mind is what hurts.
Many people spend decades believing they are:
- lazy
- too sensitive
- difficult
- dramatic
- disorganised
- inconsistent
- emotionally reactive
- failing at adulthood
Only to later discover they were trying to survive environments that constantly pushed them beyond their cognitive or sensory capacity. That realisation changes things. Not overnight or neatly, but deeply.
And I think this is where education becomes important – not just for neurodivergent people, but for society as a whole. Because neurodivergent people often need education to understand themselves with more compassion and context. But society needs education too.
We still tend to treat one very narrow style of functioning as the gold standard:
- consistent productivity
- emotional restraint
- eye contact
- multitasking
- rapid task-switching
- sitting still
- tolerating noise
- coping under pressure
- performing socially in expected ways
Those traits are often rewarded so heavily that we mistake them for indicators of intelligence, capability, or even moral worth. And honestly, that’s where I start to struggle. Because intelligence itself is far more complex than we’ve historically allowed for. IQ tests measure certain forms of cognitive processing under specific conditions. They do not fully capture:
- creativity
- intuition
- pattern recognition
- emotional intelligence
- sensory awareness
- innovation
- empathy
- divergent thinking
- nervous system load
- adaptability
- depth of focus
- relational insight
Some of the most insightful, intelligent and creative people I’ve ever met struggle enormously within traditional systems. Not because they lack intelligence, rather their intelligence doesn’t always present in the ways society expects. And perhaps that’s the bigger conversation we still need to have.
Because if somebody burns out trying to maintain impossible levels of masking and performance, are they dysfunctional? Or are they having an entirely understandable human response to chronic overwhelm?
If someone cannot tolerate open-plan offices, constant noise, endless social interaction and unrealistic workloads, is that pathology? Or is their nervous system simply refusing to normalise conditions that many humans were never designed to sustain?
I sometimes wonder whether modern society itself is dysregulating for a huge number of people – neurodivergent or otherwise. Because if we’re honest, many supposedly “high-functioning” people are surviving on stress hormones, exhaustion, people-pleasing and emotional suppression. They may look successful externally while feeling completely disconnected internally. And that doesn’t necessarily sound healthy either.
Which brings me back to the question. What actually is neurotypical? Is it a genuine neurological baseline? Or is it simply the group of people whose brains happen to align more comfortably with the systems we currently have?
I don’t think there’s a simple answer. But these conversations matter. Because the more we widen our understanding of human cognition, the more space we create for people to exist without constantly feeling defective. And perhaps that’s the direction we should be moving in. Not towards deciding which brains are “better” but creating a world flexible enough to recognise that human beings were never meant to think, feel, process or exist in exactly the same way.
Maybe the real question isn’t: “Who needs more awareness?” Maybe it’s this: What kind of society are we trying to build, and who gets excluded by the rules we’ve normalised?
And perhaps most importantly of all, are we defining “normal functioning” by health and authenticity or by compliance?
If this resonates with you, I’d genuinely love to hear your thoughts and experiences. Feel free to drop me a line: sharon@sharonworthcoaching.com