Women Differentiated

It was the summer of 2020, during the doldrums of the COVID-19 pandemic, when I first learned of Jenara Nerenberg’s book, Divergent Mind: Thriving in a World that Wasn’t Designed for You. Having recently learned that my 15-year-old daughter, previously identified as gifted and, having attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), was also on the autism spectrum, I used the extra space and time freed up by social distancing to seek some answers about why my daughter’s many differences took so long to figure out. Little did I know I’d learn so much about myself. While some excellent books have been written about autism by autistic women, such as Jennifer Cook O’Toole’s Autism in Heels and Sarah Hendrick’s Women and Girls with Autism Spectrum Disorder, surprisingly few focus on the female experience of neurodiversity. So, I was thrilled to happen upon Divergent Mind, which looks at the difference being female makes on receiving an accurate “diagnosis” of any kind. Divergent Mind is equal parts personal exploration and investigative journalism. An award-winning writer educated at Berkeley and Harvard, Nerenberg flexes her journalist’s muscles to explore how ADHD, autism spectrum disorder (ASD), and sensory processing disorder (SPD) — as well as often lesser discussed sensory sensitivities, including misophonia and synesthesia — affect females specifically. In the process, she shares her personal discoveries about her own neurodivergence, providing a different perspective from the usual author-as-expert books. [perfectpullquote align=”left” bordertop=”false” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]The author’s investigation shines a much-needed light on the gender bias that has long pervaded the worlds of medicine and science.[/perfectpullquote] Nerenberg’s depiction of neurodiversity challenges the typical pathologizing of the diverse types of brains that make up the human condition. Nerenberg makes a solid case for the societal shift needed to rethink disorders as natural and “normal” differences, and to celebrate these variations as simply “different flavors of being human.” The author’s investigation into the influences that have shaped perceptions of women who don’t fit the conventional, male-dominant mold shines a much-needed light on the gender bias that has long pervaded the worlds of medicine and science. Nerenberg’s inclusion of a lengthy list of female characteristics of ASD, courtesy of autistic author Samantha Craft, helped me understand why my daughter wasn’t identified sooner. It also gave language to many of my own remembered experiences, while exposing others that had been dwelling on the edge of my awareness. Similarly, Nerenberg’s insights into the female experience of ADHD, and its frequent co-occurrence with ASD, were validating as I’ve had many irrational reactions to criticism or judgment, aka “meltdowns,” that I now know often characterize women with ADHD. Among my biggest a-ha moments, however, came from Nerenberg’s exploration into the highly sensitive person, or HSP. This is an example of the book’s ability to put words to experiences I’ve had but never quite understood. Although Divergent Mind could be criticized for its lack of diversity in its representation of neurodivergent women, favoring the outwardly successful over those who’ve experienced significant setbacks because of misdiagnosis or neglect, let’s not forget the book’s subtitle specifies its attention on those who are “thriving.” To expect one book to fill the gaping holes that exist when it comes to understanding the ways neurodiversity manifests in females — who’ve barely been included in the formal research for decades — is neither fair nor realistic. Nerenberg herself explains that she wrote the book “primarily to empower women who have a deep sense that they are ‘different’ from the ‘norm’ but would never in a million years think they ‘have’ ADHD, Asperger’s, or some other neurodivergent trait.” As a woman who’s sought to understand my own feelings of being different, Nerenberg’s contributions to my understanding of myself have been profound, helping me gain an until-now-elusive sense of what true self-acceptance feels like. And while her contributions to our collective understanding of the uniquely female experiences of being neurodivergent may not answer all our questions, they’re certainly a step in the right direction.

An Excerpt from Divergent Mind:

An entire demographic of women is now being referred to as a “lost generation,” because an extensive amount of depression and anxiety surface as a result of internal experiences that don’t match up with what the world expects or how the world views such women—since they appear to function “normally” on the outside. This lack of awareness and understanding is largely due to neglect on the part of researchers because study samples often rely on streamlined populations of men; therefore, doctors, therapists, teachers, and police officers just don’t know what a woman with ADHD, Asperger’s, synesthesia, SPD, or high sensitivity might “look like” or how she might act. As a result, thousands of women have no name for their life experiences and feelings. When I began encountering questions myself, I started digging deeper, fueled by wanting to have a name, a label, for my experience in the world—how I “show up,” how my mind and body react to certain situations, and most of all why I have felt so bad about myself.