Why Does It Seem Like Everyone Has Got Their Life Together But Me?

Sometimes I scroll through social media or talk to friends and it feels like everyone else has life sorted. Careers, relationships, holidays, gym routines—meanwhile I’m just trying to remember if I ate breakfast. If you’ve ever felt like this, you’re not alone.

The truth is, most people are only showing their highlights. That Instagram post about a friend’s promotion doesn’t include the sleepless nights, the arguments, or the times they doubted themselves. People curate what they share, and it often looks much shinier than the reality.

As an autistic ADHD man, I find this feeling hits extra hard. I already spend so much energy just managing daily life—sensory overload, organisation struggles, and the constant tug-of-war between hyperfocus and procrastination. It can feel unfair to compare my behind-the-scenes with someone else’s polished trailer.

So what helps?

Shift the lens. Instead of “they’ve got it all together,” remind yourself: “they’re just showing the parts they want me to see.”

Define your version of “together.” For some people it’s a house, for others it’s self-acceptance or finally finding a routine that works. Your goals don’t have to match anyone else’s.

Celebrate small wins. Did you cook yourself a meal? Walk the dog? Send that one email you’d been avoiding? That counts. That’s progress.

Remember timing is different for everyone. Some people hit milestones early, others later. Life isn’t a race—it’s more like everyone’s on their own weird hiking trail.

The feeling that “everyone else has it together but me” is mostly an illusion. Nobody is fully “together.” Everyone has cracks, struggles, and doubts—they just might not be visible to you.

And honestly? If you’re showing up, trying again each day, and finding moments of joy along the way—that’s pretty together already.

Survival Guide: When Your Parents Just Keep Talking

Set clear boundaries.

It’s okay to say, “I need a break” or “Can we talk about this later?” You don’t have to sit there and take in every word.

Use headphones (the magic shield).

Noise-cancelling headphones or even just earbuds with music can be a lifesaver. Sometimes it’s less about ignoring them and more about protecting your own peace.

Agree to a check-in time.

If your parents always bring things up at random, ask if you can talk at a set time instead. That way, you’re ready for it and it doesn’t feel like an ambush.

Short answers are okay.

You don’t have to give a full essay every time they ask a question. Sometimes a simple “Yep” or “I’ll do it later” is enough.

Find an escape hatch.

Go to your room, take the dog for a walk, or even hide in the bathroom for a few minutes. It’s not rude—it’s self-preservation.

Humour helps.

If they’re in a nagging mood, sometimes making a joke or turning it playful can diffuse tension (and save your energy).

Parents are human, and they’re not always going to “get” how overwhelming it can feel when they don’t stop talking. But your needs matter too. Finding ways to step back, set limits, and protect your energy makes life a lot less stressful—for you and them.

Why I Hyperfocus on Online Shopping (and Never Actually Buy Anything)

Being an autistic ADHD man means my brain is basically running on two different operating systems at once. Sometimes they work beautifully together, other times… not so much. A perfect example? Online shopping.

Here’s the routine: I’ll sit down to “just quickly” look for a new jacket. Three hours later I’ve got 47 tabs open, I’ve compared materials, shipping times, reviews, YouTube unboxings, and the ethical supply chain of every brand. I could probably give a TED Talk on polyester versus organic cotton by the end of it.

That’s the hyperfocus kicking in—my ADHD brain locks onto the task like it’s a life mission. It feels exciting, purposeful, almost heroic. Meanwhile, my autistic side joins the party and says, “Let’s analyse every possible detail until we’re 100% certain we’ve found the perfect option.”

And then… I don’t buy anything.

Why? Because perfection never actually shows up. The sleeves are too short, the stitching looks off, the shipping is $15, or the brand once had a scandal in 2009. My autistic brain demands certainty, and my ADHD brain gets bored before we get there. The cart stays full, the bank account stays untouched, and I walk away with nothing but a headache and a mental fashion catalogue.

The funny thing is, I don’t even mind it anymore. Sometimes the browsing itself scratches the itch. It’s like window shopping, but turbo-charged. I get the dopamine rush of researching without the regret of an impulse buy.

So if you ever wonder why I always look like I’m wearing the same jacket, it’s not because I don’t want a new one. It’s because somewhere, in an open tab from six months ago, the perfect jacket still hasn’t passed my 42-step vetting process.

I’m just highly allergic to the word ‘should’.

If there’s one thing I’ve mastered in life, it’s the art of not doing what I’m told. As an autistic man with Pathological Demand Avoidance (or as I prefer, Persistent Desire for Autonomy), my daily routine is basically a stand-up comedy sketch about dodging demands—sometimes even ones I make on myself.

Tell me to relax? Instantly tense.

Remind me to pay a bill? Suddenly I’m deep-diving into the history of medieval spoons.

Ask me to go to bed early? Now I’m determined to stay up until 3am researching how astronauts clip their nails in space.

It’s not rebellion for the sake of rebellion—it’s more like my brain has a pop-up blocker for instructions. The second I sense a “must,” “should,” or “have to,” my nervous system hits the emergency eject button.

Even the small stuff gets me. I’ll think, “I should shower.” Boom—nope. My body has now unionised against the suggestion. But if I casually wander past the bathroom and think, “Hmm, hot water feels nice,” suddenly I’m in there belting out power ballads

Relationships can be entertaining too. Friends ask, “Want to catch up?” and I feel the pressure building. But if they say, “Hey, no worries if not, I’ll just be around,” suddenly I’m there early with snacks. My PDA brain likes to think it’s making its own choices—even if those choices end up being exactly what someone suggested in the first place.

The truth is, PDA isn’t laziness or stubbornness. It’s a wiring quirk. My nervous system is basically a drama queen that panics whenever it thinks my autonomy is under threat. Add in a little humour, a lot of negotiation, and a supportive community, and life becomes less about avoiding demands and more about creatively sidestepping them.

So yes, I might look like I’m allergic to instructions. But honestly? I’m just practising advanced-level autonomy. And sometimes, the best way to cope with being demand-avoidant is to laugh at it—and to write a blog post I absolutely refused to start until I tricked myself into thinking it was just “messing around with words.”

My Dog Is My Social Coping Support

As an autistic man, socialising can sometimes feel like walking through a maze with no map. I want connection, but too much interaction can quickly become overwhelming. That’s where my dog comes in—not just as a pet, but as a real form of social coping support.

When I take him out for a walk, something shifts. Neighbours who I might normally avoid stopping to talk to will smile, wave, or say something simple like “cute dog” or “he looks happy today.” These short, low-pressure interactions are enough for me to feel connected without the stress of holding long conversations. My dog is the bridge that makes these moments possible.

He also helps me feel more comfortable going to places like cafes. Sitting alone with a coffee can feel exposing, but having him by my side gives me a sense of purpose and security. People might stop and pat him, which takes the focus off me and makes it easier to manage small talk.

It’s not about forcing myself into situations that drain me—it’s about finding ways to take part in community life at a pace that works for me. My dog helps me do that. He gives me companionship, routine, and a way to dip into social interaction without drowning in it.

For me, he isn’t just a pet. He’s a partner in navigating the social world—one tail wag and gentle step at a time.

Neurodivergence and Gender Diversity: What the Latest Research Says

If you work with young people (or are one!), you may have noticed a real overlap between neurodivergence (like autism or ADHD) and gender diversity (including trans, non-binary and gender-fluid identities). Recent peer-reviewed research confirms this isn’t just a social media impression—it’s a consistent pattern across multiple studies.

What we know

Across many samples and countries, autistic traits and formal autism diagnoses appear at higher rates in gender-diverse groups, and gender diversity shows up more often among autistic people than in the general population. A 2023 meta-analysis estimated that about 11% of gender-diverse people meet criteria for autism, with gender-diverse groups scoring notably higher on autistic trait measures than cisgender groups. (Kallitsounaki & Williams, 2023).

Large health-system datasets deepen this picture. In a 2023 Pediatrics study using records from eight U.S. pediatric hospital networks (PEDSnet), autistic adolescents had roughly three times the odds of receiving a gender dysphoria diagnosis compared with their non-autistic peers—and youth who had both autism and gender dysphoria showed substantially higher rates of co-occurring mental health concerns such as anxiety and depression. (Kahn et al., 2023).

Longitudinal work adds nuance. Following young people across puberty, a 2024 study in Autism Research found autistic youth reported greater gender diversity over time than non-autistic peers, with patterns varying by sex assigned at birth. (Corbett et al., 2024).

Why might they co-occur?

Recent scoping reviews suggest several overlapping factors rather than a single cause. These include a reduced tendency to conform to social norms, heightened interoceptive and sensory awareness, and differences in identity processing—features that may make gender exploration more explicit and sustained for neurodivergent youth. (Rea et al., 2024; Mittertreiner et al., 2024).

Qualitative research with autistic young people, parents and clinicians also highlights practical realities: sensory sensitivities, need for predictability, and communication differences can intensify distress when gendered expectations or bodies feel misaligned—while autism-informed supports can reduce this strain. (Cooper, Mandy, Butler, & Russell, 2022).

Don’t forget ADHD

The link isn’t only about autism. A 2022 systematic review found elevated ADHD prevalence among transgender and gender-diverse people, though the literature is younger and needs more community-led work. For practice, this means screening for ADHD (and supporting executive functioning) can meaningfully improve access to gender-affirming care. (Goetz & Adams, 2022).

What this means for care and school settings

Despite the growing evidence base, clinical guidance specifically for autistic, transgender and gender-diverse people is still catching up. A 2024 scoping review in EClinicalMedicine mapped current guidelines and found the intersection is mentioned in only a minority; it calls for multidisciplinary, autism-informed, gender-affirming pathways. (Bo et al., 2024).

Practical takeaways for youth and the adults who support them

• Validation first: Autistic and ADHD youth aren’t “confused” by default; many are accurately articulating who they are.

• Reduce sensory load: Small adjustments (lighting, fabrics, noise, bathroom access) can decrease overall distress.

• Executive-function supports: Clear steps, reminders and advocacy help with appointments, paperwork and follow-through.

• Joined-up care: Teams should collaborate across neurodevelopmental, mental health, and gender-affirming services. (Kahn et al., 2023; Bo et al., 2024).

Bottom line

The overlap between neurodivergence and gender diversity is real and well-documented. It’s not about “causation” so much as how brains, bodies and identities develop within social worlds. When systems meet young people with curiosity, sensory-aware environments and affirming, evidence-based care, outcomes improve.

References

Bo, L., van der Miesen, A. I. R., Klomp, S. E., Williams, Z. J., Szatmari, P., & Lai, M.-C. (2024). The missing clinical guidance: A scoping review of care for autistic transgender and gender-diverse people. EClinicalMedicine, 76, 102849. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.eclinm.2024.102849

Cooper, K., Mandy, W., Butler, C., & Russell, A. (2022). Phenomenology of gender dysphoria in autism: A multiperspective qualitative analysis. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry. https://doi.org/10.1111/jcpp.13691

Corbett, B. A., Muscatello, R. A., Cyperski, M., Sadikova, E., Edmiston, E. K., McGonigle, T. W., Calvosa, R., & Vandekar, S. (2024). Gender diversity in autistic and neurotypical youth over adolescence and puberty: A longitudinal study. Autism Research. Advance online publication. https://doi.org/10.1002/aur.3141

Goetz, T. G., & Adams, N. (2022). The transgender and gender diverse and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder nexus: A systematic review. Journal of Gay & Lesbian Mental Health. https://doi.org/10.1080/19359705.2022.2109119

Kahn, N. F., Sequeira, G. M., Reyes, V., Garrison, M. M., Orlich, F., Christakis, D. A., Aye, T., Conard, L. A. E., Dowshen, N., Kazak, A. E., Nahata, L., Nokoff, N. J., Voss, R. V., & Richardson, L. P. (2023). Mental health of youth with autism spectrum disorder and gender dysphoria. Pediatrics, 152(6), e2023063289. https://doi.org/10.1542/peds.2023-063289

Kallitsounaki, A., & Williams, D. M. (2023). Autism Spectrum Disorder and Gender Dysphoria/Incongruence: A systematic literature review and meta-analysis. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 53(8), 3103–3117. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10803-022-05517-y

Mittertreiner, E. J. E., Ng-Cordell, E., McVey, A. J., & Kerns, C. M. (2024). Research methods at the intersection of gender diversity and autism: A scoping review. Autism, 28(12), 2953–2969. https://doi.org/10.1177/13623613241245595

Rea, H. M., Øien, R. A., Webb, S. J., Bansal, S., Strang, J. F., & Nordahl-Hansen, A. (2024). Gender diversity, gender dysphoria/incongruence, and the intersection with autism spectrum disorders: An updated scoping review. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10803-024-06650-6

Why I Like Toast So Much

I’ve always loved toast. Not just in the casual way most people enjoy it, but in the deep, comforting, predictable way that makes it one of my favourite foods. As an autistic man, toast has been more than breakfast—it has been a grounding ritual, a safe texture, and a reliable taste in a world that often feels unpredictable.

Toast is simple. Bread, heat, done. I don’t have to think too hard about it or second-guess the process. There’s comfort in knowing that every slice will more or less turn out the same, and if I want more control, I can choose how brown it gets. That sense of predictability matters a lot when other parts of daily life can feel overwhelming.

The texture is just right. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside. For me, that balance is soothing. Other foods can be too mushy, too slimy, too crunchy, or too noisy to chew. Toast is consistent and kind to my senses.

I also love the versatility. Toast can be plain when I need something gentle, or topped with butter, jam, avocado, or Vegemite when I want variety. It doesn’t demand too much of me—it adapts to what I need in the moment.

And there’s a sensory rhythm to it: the smell of bread turning golden, the pop of the toaster, the warmth in my hands, the satisfying crunch. These small details give me joy and help anchor me when the world feels loud or chaotic.

Liking toast “so much” might sound silly to some people, but for me, it’s a reminder that simple pleasures matter. It’s a food that has never let me down, and in its own way, it has supported me through many mornings, late-night snacks, and moments when I just needed something steady.

Toast isn’t just food—it’s safety, comfort, and a small piece of happiness that I can return to again and again.

What Does “Neuroqueer” Mean ?

The word neuroqueer is still quite new, but it’s becoming an important way for many young people to describe who they are. It brings together two ideas: neurodivergence (ways of thinking and experiencing the world that are different from the “norm,” like being autistic, ADHD, or dyslexic) and queerness (identities and experiences outside of traditional gender and sexuality expectations).

For some young people, being neuroqueer isn’t about adding another label. It’s about finding language that feels expansive and authentic—language that holds both their neurodivergent and queer selves without forcing them to choose between them.

Why It Matters

Visibility: Neuroqueer reminds young people they aren’t alone. Many feel relief when they discover others who also live at this intersection.

Affirmation: It validates that their brain and their identity are not “problems” to fix, but parts of who they are.

Community: The word offers belonging in spaces that may not always understand neurodivergence or queerness on their own.

Everyday Impact

For a neuroqueer teen, the word might mean:

Feeling safe to stim in queer spaces without fear of judgment.

Knowing that gender identity might shift in ways connected to sensory experiences or autistic identity.

Building friendships with others who “get it” because they live with both queerness and neurodivergence.

Neuroqueer can also influence creativity, self-expression, and activism—encouraging young people to bend or break rules society set for them about how to think, love, and exist.

A Word Still Growing

Like all language, “neuroqueer” continues to evolve. Some young people embrace it proudly, while others prefer different words or none at all. What matters most is choice—letting young people decide what language feels right for them, without pressure.

Takeaway: Neuroqueer is more than a label—it’s a way of honouring the overlap of neurodivergence and queerness, and a reminder that young people deserve the freedom to exist as their whole selves.

NDIS Changes and Our Community

As an autistic man and psychotherapist who walks alongside autistic young people and their families every day, I’ve been listening closely to the news about changes to the NDIS. Many of us have felt a deep sense of worry – not just about paperwork and eligibility, but about what this really means for our lives, our care, and our futures.

Fear, Stress, and Uncertainty

For many autistic people, the NDIS is more than a funding scheme. It’s the pathway to therapies, support workers, equipment, and opportunities to build independence and connection. When politicians talk about “tightening access” or “moving children with mild autism off the NDIS,” it doesn’t just sound like policy language – it lands in our bodies as fear. Families wonder: Will my child lose their support worker who finally understands them? Will I be left to navigate school struggles without help? What happens when my needs are seen as not ‘severe enough’ to matter?

I know that this uncertainty can cause anxiety, shutdowns, and deep stress. For autistic young people, the fear of losing stability is especially heavy. For parents and carers, the application process has always been complex and exhausting – and these changes only add to the emotional load.

What Might Be Changing

The government has announced plans to introduce “foundational supports” outside of the NDIS for children with mild to moderate developmental needs. While the full details are still unfolding, the idea is that some children may no longer qualify for NDIS packages and instead receive support through schools, community services, or health systems.

In theory, this could mean more children are reached earlier, without needing to go through a long diagnosis and NDIS application. But in practice, many families worry about gaps. Schools are already stretched. Community programs often lack autism understanding. And families fear being left in limbo – with less support, fewer choices, and more red tape.

Towards an Alternative Supportive Plan

If the NDIS is to change, we need to ask: what would actually feel safe and supportive for autistic people and families? Here are some ideas I believe could make a real difference:

Co-designed foundational supports. These services must be created with autistic people, families, and advocates at the table. Otherwise, they risk being tokenistic or unsuitable.

Choice and flexibility. Whether through NDIS or community supports, autistic people need to choose the therapies, supports, and workers that fit them best. One-size-fits-all programs rarely work.

Proper training for schools and services. Teachers, GPs, and community workers must receive neurodiversity-affirming training. Otherwise, “support” can feel more like exclusion or control.

Guaranteed continuity of care. No child or adult should lose access overnight. Transitions must be gradual, with safety nets in place.

Recognition that autism is lifelong. Supports should not disappear at 7, or 9, or 18. Autistic people deserve ongoing scaffolding across the lifespan – in education, employment, relationships, and community life.

Holding Hope

Change is unsettling, especially when it feels like it’s being done to us rather than with us. But I also believe our community is strong. I see daily the creativity, resilience, and advocacy of autistic young people and their families. We need to keep speaking up, holding the government accountable, and sharing stories of what real support looks like.

The NDIS was built on the principle of dignity and inclusion. If reforms are to be made, they must hold onto that heart – or risk breaking trust with the very people the scheme was designed to serve.

For now, I encourage families to connect with advocacy organisations, stay informed, and reach out for emotional support if the news is becoming overwhelming. You’re not alone in this

5 Tips to Handle Anxiety as a Neurodivergent Teen

Breathe your way

When you feel stressed, try slowing your breathing. You don’t have to sit still like in meditation — you can count things around you, tap to music, or squeeze a stress ball while breathing.

Make a calm kit

Keep a few things that help you chill out in one place — headphones, snacks you like, a fidget, or a playlist. Grab it when anxiety shows up.

Have a game plan

If school, crowds, or social stuff makes you nervous, plan ahead. Know where you can take a break, who you can message, and what you can say if you need space.

Be on your own side

Anxiety can make you think mean thoughts about yourself. Try talking to yourself like you would to a good friend: “I’m doing my best, that’s enough.”

Find your anchors

Little things can help you feel safe and steady — like a pet, a daily routine, a hobby, or a trusted person. Build these into your day so you always have something to hold onto.

Resources for Autistic Women and Gender Diverse People

When people think of autism, too often the picture in their mind is limited—and doesn’t reflect the full diversity of our community. Autistic women and gender diverse people have always been part of our story, yet their experiences are frequently overlooked or misunderstood. Thankfully, more resources are being created that speak directly to these lived realities.

Why specific resources matter

Autistic women and gender diverse people often face unique challenges. From being misdiagnosed or diagnosed late, to masking, to navigating healthcare, education, work, and relationships—these experiences can look different from what traditional autism research or supports have assumed. Having resources made by and for autistic women and gender diverse people is not only validating, but it also helps people feel seen and understood.

Recommended resources

Here are some affirming starting points:

Yellow Ladybugs – An Australian autistic-led organisation supporting autistic girls, women, and gender diverse people. They run events, peer support, and advocacy programs.

Spectrum Women – A collection of books and articles written by autistic women sharing insights on identity, daily life, and strengths.

Reframing Autism – Offers webinars, articles, and community-led resources with strong representation from autistic women and gender diverse voices.

Autistic Girls Network (UK-based) – Provides resources for families, professionals, and autistic people, focusing on late diagnosis and the unique experiences of autistic girls and non-binary young people.

Podcasts and Blogs – Many autistic women and gender diverse people share their lived experience online. Voices like Dr. Wenn Lawson, Siena Castellon, and Tania Marshall have contributed valuable perspectives.

Building safe and inclusive spaces

Access to resources is important—but so is community. Conferences, online groups, and peer networks allow autistic women and gender diverse people to connect, share, and find belonging. These spaces challenge stereotypes and remind us that there is no one way to be autistic.

When Plans Derail: My Struggles with Flexibility

Predictability and structure aren’t just preferences—they’re essential for me when navigating daily life. Precise plans, schedules, and agreed-upon tasks give me a sense of control, stability, and fairness. But when other people deviate from the plan—prioritising social chatter over getting things done—it’s not just a minor irritation. For me, it can feel deeply frustrating and sometimes invalidating.

The Comfort of Predictability

I rely on plans as a kind of lifeline. When there’s a clear schedule, I can focus my energy, mentally prepare for the tasks ahead, and feel secure knowing what’s expected. A plan represents a shared agreement, a commitment to how we’re going to spend our time. When that plan goes awry—especially for what feels like avoidable reasons—it can feel like the rug has been pulled out from under me.

Picture this: I come to a team meeting, ready to tackle the agenda. I’ve mentally rehearsed what’s coming, planned how I’ll contribute, and geared up to work through each item. But instead of diving in, the meeting drifts into casual conversation. People start talking about weekend plans, favourite TV shows, or inside jokes. What seems like harmless bonding to others leaves me feeling invisible and sidelined.

For me, those moments aren’t just unproductive—they’re stressful. It’s not simply about the tasks that aren’t getting done; it’s about the unspoken message that the plan doesn’t matter. While I understand that my colleagues might see these conversations as relationship-building, to me, they often feel like obstacles to getting the work done and sticking to what was agreed upon.

The Emotional Toll

These moments don’t just derail my focus; they often send me spiralling into self-doubt:

* Am I being too rigid?

* Why doesn’t anyone else seem frustrated by this?

* Is it okay for me to feel this way?

This inner dialogue can leave me feeling isolated. It’s hard not to feel like the odd one out, the only person in the room who values the plan over the banter. These experiences can amplify challenges with social inclusion and make me question whether my needs are valid

For Colleagues:

* Respect structure: Understand that for some of us, plans aren’t just a suggestion—they’re vital for our success.

* Balance social time: If bonding is important, carve out specific moments for it, like starting or ending the meeting with a casual chat.

* Be inclusive: If someone like me tries to steer the group back on track, acknowledge it positively instead of brushing it off.

Changing the Narrative

Flexibility is often celebrated, but it’s worth remembering that not everyone thrives in a “go with the flow” environment. I bring unique strengths to the table—an eye for detail, a commitment to fairness, and a focus on getting things done. Sticking to the plan isn’t about being rigid for me; it’s about respect—for time, effort, and the agreements we’ve made.

When workplaces and learning environments foster mutual understanding, they create spaces where everyone, neurodivergent or not, can feel valued and heard. True inclusivity doesn’t just accommodate differences—it recognises and celebrates them. And for people like me, that can make all the difference.

When Anxiety Isn't a Superpower

Recently, a friend shared with me a video of actress Emma Stone saying that she views her anxiety as a "superpower." I genuinely admire her perspective—seeing people talk about mental health in empowering ways is inspiring. For some, anxiety can be a motivator, a force that sharpens focus or even pushes them to accomplish great things. But for others, anxiety isn’t a superpower. It’s a barrier, a constant presence that can feel as limiting as it is consuming.

As someone who struggles with anxiety daily, I wanted to share my perspective on how it feels when anxiety isn’t something you can turn into a hidden strength. Unlike a burst of energy before an important presentation or the nerves that keep you alert in a high-stakes situation, anxiety for me—and many others—is pervasive and persistent. It doesn’t just come and go with challenging moments; it lingers, impacting everything from daily tasks to personal relationships.

When people talk about anxiety as a "superpower," they might picture someone who uses their heightened awareness to sense problems early or stay organised under pressure. But in reality, the experience of debilitating anxiety can be far from that ideal. Imagine, instead, a mind that constantly overthinks every possibility, a body that's always tense, and a sense of dread that often lacks any clear cause. For many, this isn’t the kind of anxiety that offers any advantage; it’s simply exhausting.

There’s an often-overlooked side of anxiety that makes even simple things feel insurmountable. It’s not a temporary feeling of nerves but a constant companion that weighs down the simplest of decisions or the most routine tasks. Anxiety can keep you up at night, make it difficult to focus, or even push you to avoid the very things you want to do. It’s like being held back by invisible threads, tugging you away from your goals and desires, no matter how much you try to break free.

This isn’t to say that people like Emma Stone are wrong to see their anxiety in a positive light—mental health experiences vary widely, and for some, reframing anxiety as a source of strength can be empowering. But for many of us, anxiety isn’t something we can easily channel or embrace. It’s a challenge that can limit our lives, not enhance them.

So, for anyone out there who finds themselves nodding along, I hope this post reminds you that you’re not alone. It’s okay if anxiety doesn’t feel like a superpower. It’s okay if it feels like a constant struggle. Our experiences are valid, even if they don’t fit the narrative of strength and resilience we often hear. The more we share these diverse perspectives, the better we can understand and support each other in all our unique mental health journeys.

Navigating Life as a Gay Autistic Teen

Hey there, I’m Daniel. I’m 16, autistic, and gay. Living with both identities can be an adventure – a mix of challenges and moments that make me hopeful for the future. I wanted to share what it’s like in case anyone out there feels the same or needs to know they’re not alone.

One of the hardest things for me has been feeling different, and I don’t just mean in the typical “teenage” way. Being autistic, I often struggle with sensory overload. Crowded places, loud noises, and sudden changes make me feel like my brain is short-circuiting. Imagine walking through school with the hallways buzzing and everyone talking at once – it feels like you’re walking through a storm, but no one else seems to notice the thunder and lightning inside you.

And then there’s being gay. Sometimes, there’s an extra layer to this sense of "not fitting in." At school, I hear people casually throw around homophobic slurs or make jokes about LGBTQIA+ people. Even though it’s usually not aimed directly at me, it hurts. It reminds me that being open about who I am can be risky. I constantly wonder: “Will they still accept me if they know?”

Making friends hasn’t been easy. Some people don’t get why I don’t always make eye contact or why I repeat certain things. But I’ve found that when you meet the right people – the ones who don’t judge you for how you communicate or act – it feels like you’ve struck gold. I’m lucky to have a few close friends who accept me as I am, but I’m still searching for others, especially people in the LGBTQIA+ community, who understand what it’s like to juggle both identities.

Despite the tough days, I’m hopeful. I hope that as I grow older, the world will become more accepting of people like me. I dream of a world where being autistic or gay isn’t seen as "different" or "weird" but just another part of who someone is.

I want to walk into any space and feel like I belong. I hope that I can help others feel the same way—whether by speaking up for people with disabilities or by being an ally to their LGBTQIA+ friends. One day, I’d love to see schools become more inclusive, with programs that help neurodivergent students thrive without feeling like they have to fit into neurotypical boxes.

I’m not telling my story for pity or praise. I want others to know that being both autistic and gay can be hard, but it’s not something to be ashamed of. If you’re reading this and you feel like you don’t fit in – whether because of your sexuality, autism, or anything else – I want you to know you’re not alone. You matter, and your differences are your strength.

The journey is just beginning, and I’m hopeful for where it will lead.

Thanks for reading!

– Daniel*

* Name changed for privacy

Understanding Anxiety in Young Autistic Adults

Anxiety is a common experience for many young people, but for autistic individuals, it can manifest in unique and more intense ways. Understanding how anxiety works in autistic minds is essential for offering practical support and creating a more inclusive environment. Here, we’ll explore what anxiety might look like for young autistic people and provide valuable strategies for managing it.

Why Anxiety Affects Autistic Individuals Differently

For many autistic individuals, anxiety can be triggered by sensory overload, changes in routine, social expectations, or the unpredictability of everyday life. Since the brain processes information differently in autism, these triggers can feel overwhelming or inescapable. Something as simple as a crowded room, an unexpected event, or a loud sound can cause distress.

Anxiety is often linked with the need for predictability and control. For young autistic individuals, the world may feel unpredictable, and this can heighten feelings of unease. As they navigate environments that aren’t always designed with their needs in mind, anxiety becomes a natural response to the stressors they face.

Common Signs of Anxiety in Autistic Young People

Anxiety in autistic young people doesn’t always look the same as it does in non-autistic individuals. Some common signs to watch for include:

Increased meltdowns or shutdowns: Emotional overload may result in sudden emotional outbursts or withdrawal.

Rigid thinking or routines: The need for control can intensify, with a firm reliance on specific routines or rituals.

Avoidance: Anxiety might manifest as avoidance of social situations, school, or other environments where the young person feels vulnerable.

Physical symptoms: Headaches, stomachaches, or fatigue are often physical expressions of anxiety.

Recognising these signs early is crucial for intervening before the anxiety escalates.

Strategies for Managing Anxiety

Supporting a young autistic person’s anxiety begins with understanding and adapting to their specific needs. Here are a few strategies that may help:

Create Predictability: Consistent routines provide a sense of control. Where possible, keep changes minimal or give plenty of notice when inevitable.

Use Visual Supports: Autistic youth often respond well to visual schedules or cues that help them anticipate what’s coming next. This reduces uncertainty and can prevent anxiety from building.

Sensory-Friendly Environments: Overstimulating environments can worsen anxiety. Consider quieter spaces or tools like noise-cancelling headphones and dim lighting when needed.

Teach Relaxation Techniques: Breathing exercises, progressive muscle relaxation, or even sensory-based activities (such as using a fidget toy) can help an autistic individual calm their anxiety.

Encourage Open Communication: Building a safe space for young people to express their feelings and worries is essential. However, since communication can be challenging, alternative methods like drawing, writing, or technology may be required.

Social Support: Peer or mentor groups designed for neurodivergent youth can offer a safe space where the individual feels understood. Building friendships with others who share similar experiences helps reduce isolation and the anxiety that can come with it.

Seeking Professional Help

While strategies at home or in school can be highly effective, sometimes professional support is needed. Therapy with a professional familiar with neurodiversity, such as a neurodiversity-affirming counsellor, can help young autistic individuals develop tools to cope with their anxiety. Understanding and managing anxiety in young autistic individuals requires a compassionate and tailored approach. By recognising their triggers and offering the right tools, we can help these young people navigate anxiety with greater confidence and resilience. It's essential to remember that each autistic person is unique, and what works for one may not work for another—flexibility and patience are key. Providing a supportive environment, we help reduce their anxiety and create spaces where they can thrive.

Supporting Autistic Students: Disability Standards and Law in Australia

In Australia, the legal framework surrounding disability rights plays a crucial role in ensuring that school-aged autistic students receive the support they need to thrive in their educational journey.

The Disability Discrimination Act (DDA) 1992

The foundation of disability rights in Australia is the Disability Discrimination Act (DDA) 1992. This federal law makes it illegal to discriminate against someone based on their disability, including in education. The DDA covers all levels of education, from preschool to tertiary education, and applies to both public and private institutions.

Under the DDA, schools must make "reasonable adjustments" to accommodate students with disabilities, including autistic students. Reasonable adjustments are changes to the learning environment or teaching methods that help students access the curriculum on the same basis as their peers. For example, this could include providing a quiet space for breaks, using visual supports, or allowing extra time for tasks.

The Disability Standards for Education 2005

The Disability Standards for Education 2005 were established under the DDA to provide more detailed guidance on how educational institutions should comply with the law. These standards ensure that students with disabilities have equal access to education and can participate in all aspects of school life.

The key areas covered by the Disability Standards for Education include:

Enrolment: Schools must not refuse to enrol students based on their disability.

Participation: Schools must provide appropriate support to ensure that students with disabilities can participate in all school activities, both academic and extracurricular.

Curriculum Development and Delivery: Schools are required to adjust the curriculum to meet the needs of students with disabilities, ensuring they have the same opportunities to learn and succeed.

Student Support Services: Schools must provide necessary support services, such as speech therapy or occupational therapy, to help students with disabilities engage with their education.

Elimination of Harassment and Victimization: Schools must take steps to prevent and address bullying and harassment of students with disabilities.

These standards ensure that schools actively work towards inclusion and do not simply comply with the minimum legal requirements.

National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) and Education

While the NDIS primarily provides funding for disability-related support outside of the school system, it can play a complementary role in supporting autistic students in their education. For example, NDIS funding can be used for therapies that help students develop skills necessary for learning or for equipment that assists them in the classroom.

However, it's important to note that the schools, not the NDIS, are responsible for providing reasonable adjustments in education. The NDIS can provide additional support but does not replace the school's obligations under the DDA and Disability Standards for Education.

The Role of Schools in Supporting Autistic Students

Schools have a legal and ethical responsibility to create an inclusive environment where autistic students feel supported and valued. This involves making reasonable adjustments and fostering a school culture that celebrates diversity and promotes understanding of autism.

For school-aged autistic students, inclusive education can profoundly impact their academic success, social development, and overall well-being. By understanding and utilising the disability standards and laws in Australia, parents, educators, and advocates can work together to ensure that autistic students receive the support they need to reach their full potential.

Conclusion

Australia's disability standards and laws provide a robust framework for supporting school-aged autistic students. By ensuring that schools meet their legal obligations under the DDA and Disability Standards for Education, we can create an educational environment where every student has the opportunity to succeed. The collaboration between schools, families, and external supports like the NDIS is key to achieving this goal.

Navigating Indigenous Cultural Expectations and Autism

In Australia, the intersection of autism and Indigenous culture presents unique challenges and opportunities. For autistic Indigenous Australians, cultural differences influence their experiences and how they navigate both their neurodivergent identity and their cultural heritage.

The Importance of Culture in Indigenous Communities

Indigenous Australian cultures are diverse, with a rich tapestry of traditions, languages, and values passed down through generations. Cultural practices, connection to land, and community kinship play a central role in the lives of Indigenous people. Understanding and honouring these cultural aspects is crucial for autistic individuals within these communities.

Peer-reviewed research highlights the significance of cultural context in the diagnosis and support of autism in Indigenous Australians. According to a study by Cvejic et al. (2018), Indigenous families often place a high value on social relationships and community involvement, which can sometimes lead to misunderstandings when autistic individuals exhibit behaviours that diverge from these norms. The study also underscores the need for culturally sensitive diagnostic tools that consider the social and cultural environment of Indigenous children.

Navigating Cultural Expectations and Autism

Indigenous communities often have distinct ways of interacting and communicating, which can be at odds with the characteristics of autism, such as difficulties with social communication and repetitive behaviours. This can lead to challenges in how autistic individuals are perceived and supported within their communities. Research by Clifton, Birrell, and Vandenberg (2020) notes that Indigenous autistic individuals may experience a dual burden of stigma due to their cultural background and neurodivergent identity. This can make it difficult for them to express their needs and preferences, particularly in environments that do not accommodate their cultural and neurological differences.

The Role of Community and Support Systems

Support systems within Indigenous communities are often based on collective care and shared responsibility, which can be both a strength and a challenge for autistic individuals. The concept of "yarning" – a culturally specific form of storytelling and conversation—is often used to build understanding and trust within the community. For autistic individuals who may struggle with typical conversational norms, finding ways to participate in yarning can be challenging but also offers an opportunity to connect with others in a meaningful way.

Studies such as Armstrong et al. (2019) emphasise incorporating culturally appropriate methods into autism support and intervention programs. This includes involving Indigenous elders and community leaders in developing these programs, ensuring they are culturally sensitive and aligned with community values.

The Need for Culturally Responsive Services

There is a growing recognition of the need for autism services that are responsive to Indigenous Australians' cultural contexts. The use of culturally adapted resources, training for service providers in cultural competency, and the involvement of Indigenous voices in service design are all critical steps towards improving support for autistic Indigenous Australians. Research by Purdie, Dudgeon, and Walker (2010) suggests that services that are not culturally responsive may inadvertently alienate Indigenous families, making it harder for them to access the support they need.

For autistic Indigenous Australians, the intersection of cultural identity and neurodiversity requires a nuanced understanding and approach. By acknowledging and respecting cultural differences and developing culturally responsive services and supports, we can better meet the needs of this unique and diverse community. Moving forward, both Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians must work together to create a more inclusive society that honours the richness of cultural and neurodivergent diversity.

References:

Armstrong, D., Birrell, C., & Vandenberg, B. (2019). Cultural sensitivity and autism support: The role of Indigenous community involvement in service development. Journal of Indigenous Wellbeing, 4(2), 14-27.

Cvejic, R. C., et al. (2018). Understanding Autism in the Context of Australian Indigenous Culture: Insights from Families and Professionals. Australian and New Zealand Journal of Psychiatry, 52(7), 617-626.

Purdie, N., Dudgeon, P., & Walker, R. (2010). Working Together: Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Mental Health and Wellbeing Principles and Practice. Commonwealth of Australia.

Navigating Autistic Burnout

Autistic burnout is a state of intense physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion that many autistic individuals experience. It often results from prolonged exposure to stressors, like masking or pushing oneself to meet neurotypical standards. Unlike general burnout, autistic burnout can profoundly affect daily functioning and overall well-being.

What is Autistic Burnout?

Autistic burnout is more than just feeling tired. It’s a state where the mind and body can no longer cope with the demands placed upon them. It might feel like you're running on empty, with every small task becoming an overwhelming challenge. Some common signs include:

Increased Sensory Sensitivity: Lights, sounds, or textures that were once manageable become overwhelming.

Cognitive Difficulties: Trouble with thinking, focusing, or processing information.

Emotional Exhaustion: Feeling emotionally drained, numb, or easily upset.

Physical Fatigue: A deep tiredness that doesn't improve with rest.

Regression in Skills: Losing the ability to perform tasks or engage in previously manageable activities.

Causes of Autistic Burnout

Autistic burnout often builds up over time due to chronic stress and the pressure to conform to neurotypical expectations. Some contributing factors include:

Masking: Constantly hiding or suppressing autistic traits to fit in can be draining.

Sensory Overload: Too noisy, bright, or chaotic environments can wear you down.

Social Exhaustion: The effort of navigating social situations or maintaining relationships.

Unmet Needs: When your needs for routine, downtime, or support are unmet, burnout can creep in.

Expectations and Pressure: Feeling pressured to meet societal or self-imposed expectations can lead to burnout.

Preventing and Managing Autistic Burnout

Managing autistic burnout involves recognising the signs early and taking steps to care for yourself. Here are some strategies:

Prioritise Rest: Ensure you sleep enough and take breaks throughout your day. Rest isn’t just about sleep; it’s also about giving yourself mental and emotional downtime.

Reduce Sensory Overload: Create a sensory-friendly environment by using noise-cancelling headphones, dimming lights, or finding quiet spaces.

Set Boundaries: It's okay to say no to activities or social interactions that feel too demanding. Protecting your energy is essential.

Routine and Structure: Having a predictable routine can help reduce anxiety and provide a sense of control.

Seek Support: Connect with other neurodivergent individuals who understand what you’re going through. Sometimes, just knowing you’re not alone can be incredibly reassuring.

Self-compassion: Be kind to yourself. It’s okay to need more rest or to take a step back. Burnout doesn’t mean you’re failing; it signals you need to care for yourself.

Recovering from Autistic Burnout

Recovery from autistic burnout takes time, and the journey is different for everyone. Here’s how to approach it:

Give Yourself Permission to Rest: Don’t rush your recovery. Allow yourself the time you need to heal.

Re-evaluate Your Environment: Identify and adjust the factors contributing to your burnout, whether it's your work environment, daily routine, or social obligations.

Gradually Reintroduce Activities: Start with small, manageable tasks and progressively increase them as you feel ready.

Professional Support: Consider seeking help from a therapist who understands autism and can provide guidance tailored to your needs.

Final Thoughts

Autistic burnout is a natural and challenging experience, but you can manage and recover from it with understanding and the right strategies. Remember, putting your needs first and seeking the support that helps you thrive is okay. Embracing who you are and honouring your limits is not a weakness—it’s a vital part of living well as a neurodivergent individual.

PDA: A Neurodivergent-Affirming Perspective

Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA) is characterised by an intense need to resist everyday demands and a deep drive to maintain a sense of autonomy. However, within the neurodivergent community, there’s a growing shift toward understanding PDA not as “Pathological Demand Avoidance” but a Persistent Desire for Autonomy. This perspective reflects a more affirming view of the experiences and needs of those with PDA.

What is a PDA?

PDA can be understood as a natural response to perceived threats to autonomy. Individuals with PDA often experience demands—whether they are direct instructions, social expectations, or even subtle pressures—as overwhelming. This response isn’t rooted in defiance or oppositional behaviour but rather in an acute sensitivity to losing control. From a neurodivergent-affirming perspective, recognising this as a desire for autonomy rather than a pathology shifts the focus to understanding and supporting the individual's need for agency.

A Neurodivergent-Affirming Approach

A neurodivergent-affirming approach begins with reframing how we view behaviours associated with PDA. Instead of seeing these behaviours as something to be corrected, we can see them as a form of communication and a vital expression of the need for autonomy. This approach emphasises collaboration, flexibility, and emotional safety, aiming to reduce the sense of threat that triggers demand avoidance.

Critical Strategies for Supporting Individuals with PDAs:

Building Trust and Connection: Trust is fundamental in supporting individuals with PDA. By creating a relationship based on mutual respect and understanding, individuals are more likely to feel safe and supported.

Flexibility and Collaboration: Recognize that rigid demands can trigger anxiety and avoidance. Offering choices and involving the individual in decision-making respects their autonomy and helps to alleviate pressure.

Prioritising Emotional Safety: It is crucial to provide a safe space where individuals can express their needs without fear of judgment or punishment. Recognising when someone is feeling overwhelmed and adjusting expectations accordingly can prevent escalation.

Strength-Based Approaches: Focus on the individual’s interests and strengths, using these as pathways for engagement. This helps build confidence and a sense of accomplishment, making demands feel less threatening.

Empathy and Understanding: Acknowledge and validate the challenges of PDA. Understanding that behaviors stem from a need for autonomy allows for a more compassionate and effective support approach.

Supporting Families and Caregivers

Families and caregivers of individuals with PDA often face unique challenges. Educating them about PDA from a neurodivergent-affirming perspective can help shift their approach to be more supportive and understanding. Providing tools for stress management and fostering open communication within the family can create a more harmonious environment.

Final Thoughts

Reframing PDA as a Persistent Desire for Autonomy aligns with a more respectful and compassionate understanding of neurodivergence. By focusing on the strengths and needs of individuals with PDA, a neurodivergent-affirming psychotherapist can foster an environment where autonomy is respected and where individuals can thrive. This approach supports the individual and nurtures healthier, more supportive relationships with their loved ones.

Understanding and Supporting Autistic Trans Young Men

As a psychotherapist specialising in neurodivergence, I've had the privilege of working with many autistic trans young men. Each of these individuals has a unique story shaped by their experiences, strengths, and challenges. This post aims to shed light on the intersection of autism and gender identity, providing insights on how best to support autistic trans young men on their journey.

The Intersection of Autism and Gender Identity

Autism and gender identity are both deeply personal aspects of a person's life. When they intersect, the result is a nuanced and complex experience that requires understanding and empathy from everyone involved—family, friends, and mental health professionals.

Autistic individuals often experience the world differently. They may have heightened sensory sensitivities and a strong need for routine and may process emotions and social interactions differently from neurotypical individuals. For trans-autistic young men, navigating the complexities of gender identity can bring additional layers of challenge, particularly in environments that may not fully understand or support their experiences.

The Importance of Affirmation

Affirmation is crucial for the mental well-being of trans individuals, and this is no different for autistic trans young men. Affirmation means recognising and validating their gender identity, using their chosen name and pronouns, and creating an environment where they feel seen and respected. For autistic individuals, who may already feel out of sync with societal norms, this validation is even more critical.

In therapy, it is key to create a space where clients can explore their gender identity without fear of judgment. This means being knowledgeable about autism and gender diversity and open to learning from the client about their unique experiences.

Navigating Sensory Sensitivities and Medical Transition

One area where autism and gender identity intersect is in the sensory aspects of medical transition. For example, binding, a common practice among trans men to flatten the chest, can be particularly challenging for those with sensory sensitivities. The pressure of the binder, the texture of the material, and the changes in body awareness can be overwhelming.

Therapists and supporters should recognise these sensory challenges and work with the individual to find comfortable and safe solutions. This might mean exploring different types of binders, using sensory-friendly materials, or discussing alternatives like layered clothing.

Social Challenges and the Need for Community

Social challenges are a common experience for autistic individuals, and these can be compounded for autistic trans young men. They may face misunderstanding or even hostility from peers who do not understand their gender identity or autistic traits. This can lead to isolation, anxiety, and depression.

Finding or creating a supportive community is essential. Online spaces, support groups, and therapy can provide autistic trans young men with a sense of belonging. Connecting with others who share similar experiences can be incredibly validating and help reduce loneliness.

The Power of Resilience

Despite the challenges, many autistic trans young men demonstrate remarkable resilience. They often have a deep self-awareness and can advocate for their needs. One client I worked with, Alex*, shared how embracing his identity as both autistic and trans gave him a new sense of purpose. He navigated his journey with courage and confidence by finding ways to accommodate his sensory needs and advocating for himself in social situations.

Supporting autistic trans young men requires a holistic and empathetic approach that recognises the unique interplay between autism and gender identity. As a therapist, it's my role to provide a safe, affirming space where these individuals can explore their identities, address challenges, and build on their strengths. For those supporting autistic trans young men, remember that affirmation, understanding, and community can make all the difference in their journey to living authentically.

*Name changed for privacy.