Neurodivergence: A built-in rubric for life
Declaration of Resistance
I refuse to write for the attention economy.
I refuse to craft a “hook,” to use the breathless, urgent language to garner attention over my words, or to structure my thoughts for the hopes it will somehow become viral. This piece is not a performance as I cannot and do not tolerate performing - and this extends into my writing. I refuse to try to edit my work in ways to make it intentionally attention-grabbing. I simply will not do it. I adamantly refuse.
This refusal... this deep, stubborn resistance to the idea that my worth is tied to my output, is the central argument of this essay. It is the core truth I spent years trying to optimize away.
And yet, the evidence is everywhere online. It’s in the endless scroll of productivity YouTube, in the articles promising the next bio-hack, and in the relentless promise that if we just optimize this one thing, we will finally succeed. I used to be obsessed with finding that one thing.
Illusion of Optimization
Inspired by this video: I tried to optimize my life. It made it worse.
As a near-decade silent follower of Matt's content, I resonated so much with this video that I ended up writing a defiant reflection that I transformed for this post. In the video, he discusses the self-development/productivity hacks he has tried over the years to get more done in a day. He also mentions society's obsession with optimization, which involves the many "new" things that will solve all our problems with getting things done or becoming our best self (currently: peptides...?). Particularly, he focuses on how his priorities changed after having kids, where he says no to a lot more, even to things that were previously beneficial.
It's funny, because our problem is not because we're lazy but that we are simply trying to fit too many things in one day. We can't change the fact that there are 24 hours in a day - half of that is spent sleeping, a third of it is spent at work/commuting, and the rest is recovering from that jam-packed day. It's honestly insane the sheer quantity of things people try to complete in a day... I'm lucky if I can eat 3 meals.
“Usually when your seasons change, your habits need to change. And that is fairly obvious to me with habits that used to be a waste of time (e.g., watch TV, browse YouTube, check emails). But it was much harder to realize that I needed to give up some of the things that previously benefitted me. They were really good habits in my old season, but they’re just not a good fit for the current season.”
^^ Relatable.
Obsessions with the "System"
Seeing this pattern of external pressure made me look back at my own history.
I used to be deeply immersed in productivity systems; I was obsessed with productivity YouTube, bullet journaling, and habit tracking. I watched all the greats, including Matt. It was also, interestingly, around the same time that I discovered minimalism, which created a strange contradiction: I was learning to simplify my life while simultaneously trying to optimize it in every measurable way... in ways that often made me feel worse than better. And the advice was always: Habits are hard to stick with in the beginning, so don't beat yourself up when you don't complete a habit/goal for that day. (???????)
I would consistently bullet journal, make my monthly spread, and do daily reflection recaps. I tracked five to seven habits per month, sometimes my emotions and energy levels on top of that, and journaled morning pages every day. It felt like I voluntarily opted into those workplace performance reviews that no one likes to do. VOLUNTARILY.
I had this zest for life that couldn't be contained; I wanted to DO DO DO DO, because I spent all of my adolescence surviving daily life. I felt that these systems were necessary; they were the proof that I was actively fighting my way through severe depression and recurring suicidality.
I can't quite remember what led me to let go of these systems. Perhaps it was the intersection of starting therapy and my PhD program, because I simply did not have any energy like I did before then.
From Doing to Being
The big shift came with letting go of the identity itself, not the systems themselves. I had to shed that part of myself, visually packing it up and leaving it dormant and archived.
It was so hard for me to give that up, too; I felt like I was failing myself, or letting things that I did not value take control of my life, leaving me with no time for what I wanted to do. (Spoiler: That was partially true).
My intrinsic motivational phrase for several years was: "Don't ever become a passenger in your own life."
And while I still carry that phrase with me, it doesn't nearly hold as much weight in my mind. I don't think it's because it's no longer important or applicable but because it's now automatic.
Instead of having to document, track, measure, and analyze every decision, goal, and habit, I simply made a quick decision to scrap it all and start fresh. The only thing on my rubric became: Do I have energy for this right now? If it was something I was truly ecstatic about, the energy was tangible; my mind a bouncy brain. And guess what...? I often followed through. The idea, the goal, the energy, though, it all fluctuates every single day.
The Built-In Rubric
I didn't truly accept this fluctuating energy as my reality until my autism diagnosis in 2022. That diagnosis completely shattered everything I thought I knew about myself and forced me to rebuild and recalibrate.
While that was overwhelming, I am nothing but grateful for the experience. It provided life-changing context to why I always felt behind in life; why I couldn't achieve what most people around me could. It taught me that my physiological, social, and cognitive limitations were not weaknesses, but life-saving features built into my brain architecture.
You know how people don't realize they need to slow down until they get hit with a health crisis? Autism is like that, but it's like a consistent background task. I call it a fail-safe, or a built-in rubric for what matters.
A great example is how I currently live in Nevada, the gambling capital of the world. Yet, I have absolutely NO desire to engage in gambling for the sole purpose of how visually and auditory overstimulating it is. My brain acts like an ad-blocker; it runs a constant, built-in rubric, prioritizing peace over stimulation. It's the same with social media; I haven't been on it for nearly 15 years for the same reason: visual overstimulation.
Spoon theory is often discussed in the context of neurodivergence, but it's definitely more complex than a simple decision/action = 1 spoon. The underlying premise, however, is accurate. While it really sucks that I often get daily migraines due to being photosensitive, I view this less like a limitation and more like a reminder to give myself grace (which is incredibly useful with poor interoception), instead of pushing through it. And I often can't even if I wanted to.
As a result, I absolutely cannot even pretend to care about performing (and proving to others that I am performing "well"), hustle culture, optimization, or what new productivity trend is circulating online. I have an innate and true system, it just took me 23 years to realize it.
