Learning to Redefine Connection as a Neurodivergent Adult

I used to look at other people and genuinely wonder why I couldn’t do what seemed so normal and easy for them.

I would look out of the window and think, why can’t I just go to all these places? Why can’t I meet up with people, stand chatting at the school gates or in playparks, talk to other parents at football matches, or take the kids out on day trips in the summer holidays without it taking so much out of me?

For me, going to one busy place often meant feeling anxious before I even got there, becoming completely overloaded while I was there, and then needing hours afterwards to recover.

I would avoid plans because I already knew what the cost would be.

And then I would feel guilty for avoiding them.

Guilty for not seeing people enough. Guilty for leaving early. Guilty for not being more sociable. Guilty for needing so much time on my own. At times, even guilty for feeling as though I wasn’t being the kind of mum I thought I was supposed to be.

For a long time, I had this idea that connection had to look a certain way.

Lots of friends. Regular meet-ups. Busy social lives. Chatting easily in groups. Being comfortable at social events. Joining in without needing to think about the impact it might have afterwards.

If I couldn’t do those things, I assumed I was somehow doing connection wrong.

Connection can look completely different

What I have learned over time is that connection can look completely different, especially when you are neurodivergent.

I don’t need a huge social circle or a packed diary to feel connected.

For me, connection can be sitting quietly next to someone without needing to talk.

It can be messaging online rather than meeting face to face.

It can be sharing an interest with someone, spending time with my dog, or having a small number of people around me who understand that I may disappear for a while and still care deeply about them.

It can also be what I would describe as parallel connection, being alongside someone, doing separate things, without needing constant conversation or interaction.

Connection can be as simple as knowing that someone is there.

Structured connection matters too

I have also realised that structured connection can be incredibly valuable.

A coach, counsellor, mentor, support worker or peer space can offer meaningful connection without all the pressure that can sometimes come with navigating unspoken social rules, expectations or reciprocity.

For some neurodivergent people, that structure can make connection feel safer and more manageable.

There is a clearer purpose. There may be fewer social unknowns. There can be more space to communicate openly about needs, boundaries and capacity.

That doesn’t make the connection less meaningful, it can be exactly what we need.

I didn’t need to become “better” at being social

One of the biggest shifts for me has been realising that I didn’t necessarily need to become better at being social.

I needed to stop measuring myself against a version of connection that didn’t work for me.

That has been a much bigger change.

Instead of asking myself why I can’t socialise like other people, I can ask what kind of connection actually feels good and sustainable for me.

That might be quiet connection.

Online connection.

Parallel connection.

Infrequent connection.

Low-demand connection.

Connection with animals.

Connection through shared interests.

Connection where you don’t have to explain why you need to leave early, take a break, cancel plans or go quiet for a while.

None of these are lesser forms of connection.

They are simply different.

Finding your own way to belong

There can be so much pressure to measure our social lives against what we see around us.

But belonging doesn’t have to mean constantly being surrounded by people.

Connection doesn’t have to be frequent to be real.

Friendship doesn’t have to involve constant contact.

And needing recovery time after socialising doesn’t mean you don’t value other people.

For me, accepting this has been far more freeing than spending years wishing I could be somebody else.

There are so many different ways to connect, relate and belong.

The important thing is finding the ones that work for you, rather than trying to force yourself into a version of connection that continually leaves you overwhelmed, exhausted or feeling as though you are failing.

Different kinds of connection are more than okay, they can be exactly what allow us to feel connected in the first place.

If this resonates with you, you’re not alone.

At AuDHD & Then Some, we create resources, support and spaces for neurodivergent adults who want something that feels more understanding, more realistic and less pressured.

Whether you’re looking for practical tools, lived-experience support, gentle reflection or simply a place where you don’t have to explain quite so much, you can explore more at www.audhdandthensome.com.