Embracing My Neuro-Spicy Personality

Neurotypical vs. Neurospicy: Understanding the Terminology

The concepts of being “neurotypical” versus “neurodivergent” have exploded in awareness over the last decade, with the rise of more open conversations around mental health, cognitive processing, and identity. But there’s a new term making waves in the neurodivergent space: neuro-spicy. It’s a fun, self-empowered way for people like me, who don’t fit the conventional mold, to claim their unique quirks and challenges with pride. As someone who considers themselves neuro-spicy, my experience is flavored by a blend of ADHD, autism, OCD, depression, anxiety, dyslexia, and more. In many ways, it feels like I’ve been living through my own version of the Divergent series, navigating a world not built for me, adapting strategies to survive, and discovering a deeper sense of self along the way.

But first, let’s break down the difference between being neurotypical and neuro-spicy and why these terms matter in today's world.

In simplest terms, neurotypical refers to people whose brains and cognitive processes function in a way that society deems "normal." This group typically experiences fewer challenges related to attention, memory, communication, or emotional regulation. They thrive in environments structured around standard social and academic expectations—think organized schedules, multitasking without overwhelming stress, and being able to participate in conversations or social cues seamlessly.

Neurodivergent or neuro-spicy refers to those of us whose brains don’t function within the conventional boundaries of neurotypical norms. Neuro-spicy people often have conditions such as ADHD, autism, OCD, dyslexia, anxiety, depression, or a combination of several—which, in my case, is exactly what makes my personality “spicy” in the first place. Rather than seeing these as disorders to be fixed, the term neuro-spicy reclaims these differences, celebrating them as part of our unique, diverse, and often creative ways of engaging with the world.

Just as the factions in the Divergent movie series reflect different personality traits and skill sets (Dauntless for bravery, Erudite for intelligence, etc.), the neurospicy spectrum encapsulates a variety of cognitive profiles. Being neurospicy means thriving with different forms of wiring, each serving as a unique contribution to the richness of human diversity. And much like Tris, the protagonist who doesn't fit neatly into one faction, those who identify as neurospicy often defy singular categories—they may have overlapping traits of ADHD, autism, OCD, and other conditions. I’ve had to learn how to navigate this reality by leaning into my strengths and adapting in ways that work for me, even when society doesn’t fully understand or accommodate it.

My Neurospicy Personality: A Tapestry of ADHD, Autism, OCD, Depression, and More

Navigating life as a neurospicy individual is a multifaceted experience. Below, I’ll break down the different elements of my neurospicy identity, exploring how they intersect and manifest.

1) ADHD: The Girl Who Thrived Until She Didn't

ADHD is one of the most well-known neurodivergent conditions, but what’s often misunderstood is how it shows up differently in girls and women. Boys with ADHD are often more hyperactive or disruptive, which makes it easier to spot early on. Girls, on the other hand, tend to be more inattentive or daydreamy, flying under the radar. This was definitely true in my case.

While I don’t have a formal diagnosis of ADHD, I’m pretty sure it’s a key part of my neurospicy makeup. As a girl, I learned how to mask my struggles with coping mechanisms like over-focusing, staying super organized, and over compensating. But for me, one of the most challenging aspects of ADHD is Object Permanence when it comes to people. Just like I might forget an item exists if it’s not in front of me, I can easily lose track of people if I don’t see them regularly, either in real life or online. Out of sight can genuinely mean out of mind—not because I don’t care, but because my brain struggles to keep that connection alive without regular prompts. This often leads to me unintentionally distancing myself from friends or loved ones, especially when life gets busy. For neurotypical people, this can be confusing and even hurtful, as they may interpret it as me being indifferent or uninterested. But it’s not personal—my mind simply works differently. I don’t forget them, I just lose track of our connection, which can make it hard to maintain relationships, especially with people who don’t understand how ADHD impacts the way I engage with others.

As I’ve aged, ADHD and Object Permanence have shown up in new ways. I often forget where I’ve put things if I don't put them back in their designated spot, or worse, I forget I even own something unless I use it regularly. The frustration is compounded by hyperfocus, another ADHD trait. When I’m locked into a task or project, everything else fades away, and suddenly, hours (or even days) have passed without checking in with those I care about. Or the flip side of that is that I start a task and walk away and notice something else needs attention and start unintentionally multitasking.

For years, I developed coping techniques to manage my ADHD, like structured to-do lists and setting reminders. However, these tools are starting to fail me as life becomes more complex, and I’m finding that I need new strategies to keep from getting overwhelmed or burned out.

2) Autistic Traits: A Need for Patterns and Social Mimicry

Autism is another piece of my neurospicy identity. While I don’t have an official diagnosis, I experience certain tics and tendencies that make me feel connected to the autism spectrum, such as a deep attachment to numbers and patterns. I compulsively check the time or numbers across three different sources—just to be sure—and I’m drawn to rituals that ground me in my environment.

In social situations, I often cope with anxiety by mimicking the people around me, a behavior known as echopraxia. This means I’ll adopt certain social cues, accents, or phrases from the group I’m in to feel like I belong. It’s an unconscious process, but it helps me blend in and navigate situations that might otherwise feel overwhelming. And during quiet moments, I sing little tunes or makeup songs while completing tasks—a way to soothe myself and keep my mind engaged.

3) OCD: The Dance of Skin Picking and Control

I also have obsessive-compulsive tendencies, particularly when it comes to dermatillomania: a mental health condition where a person compulsively picks or scratches their skin, causing injuries or scarring. Also known as excoriation disorder or skin-picking disorder. This habit developed as a response to adult acne and societal pressures around appearance, especially coming from family insecurities about looks. I find myself obsessively picking at acne scars or mosquito bites, trying to regain control over my skin. Although I know consciously that picking doesn't help at all, there is a dopamine rush I get from the satisfaction of accomplishing a "good pick". It's a discusting habit, that I can't resist.

OCD also manifests in my need for organization. I’m highly territorial about my space and my belongings. Everything has its place, and when that order is disrupted, it can throw me off balance. This need for structure is both a blessing and a curse—it helps me maintain clarity, but it also fuels anxiety when things don’t align perfectly.

4) Depression: The Silent Struggle Behind High Functionality

Depression has been a longstanding companion in my life, stemming from a traumatic history I faced at a young age. When my father passed away, I was thrust into grief without the support or guidance of grief counseling. As a child dealing with the overwhelming pain of loss, I was left to navigate those feelings on my own, which led to years of bottled-up emotions. Without healthy outlets or support systems, this grief turned inward, evolving into toxic behaviors, self-destructive patterns, and suicidal tendencies during my adolescent years and early 20s.

As I tried to manage on my own, depression became a quiet, insidious force beneath my surface, shaping my experiences, relationships, and sense of self-worth. It wasn’t until my late 20s that I finally reached out for help, receiving an official diagnosis. This acknowledgment of my struggle was a pivotal moment, though the road to managing it has been long and complex. Today, I am what some might call high-functioning depressed. On the outside, I appear independent, hyper-productive, and capable. But beneath this facade, there’s an executive dysfunction that leaves me feeling perpetually unworthy and unaccomplished. I rarely celebrate my wins, instead finding myself in a constant cycle of needing to do more to feel valuable.

Seasonal depression adds yet another layer to this experience. I feel most alive and at ease in warm weather, which is why I head south every winter as a snowbird. Being close to water helps me feel recharged and more at peace. But the weight of depression can still feel paralyzing, no matter where I am. For years, I’ve coped by overcompensating with hyper-independence, convincing myself that I don’t need anyone’s help because it feels safer not to rely on others. However, this independence often comes at the cost of feeling increasingly isolated and disconnected. Each day, I continue to work on understanding and managing these layers, with the hope of finding a balance that allows me to live authentically, embracing both my strengths and my struggles.

5) Anxiety: Social Panic and the Need for Independence

Anxiety has woven itself into so many aspects of my life, manifesting in ways that often overlap with my depression, frustration, and social struggles associated with autism. At one point, it felt like I was constantly on edge, with panic attacks becoming a regular part of my life as I struggled to find coping mechanisms that could relieve the weight of all these intersecting challenges. Social situations, large crowds, and unresolved frustrations seemed to set me off the most, with my mind and body slipping into a cycle of panic. Isolation only made things worse, but being in groups would also fuel my anxiety—a paradoxical push-and-pull between needing connection and needing solitude.

Over time, I began to learn and rely on breathing techniques, which have become a powerful tool in managing my anxiety. Now, I can often sense when a panic attack is approaching, and my body instinctively shifts into deep breathing, automatically helping to calm my system before the spiral of anxiety takes over. This awareness and ability to preemptively ground myself has been life-changing, giving me a sense of control that I didn’t have before.

Money is another significant source of anxiety. As an entrepreneur and gig worker, the ebb and flow of income is part of the lifestyle, but during low periods, the fear and worry over finances can feel overwhelming. My hyper-independence, rooted in both anxiety and depression, often makes it difficult to ask for help, even when it’s what I need most. I tend to power through on my own, thinking it’s safer that way, but it sometimes deepens the feeling of being on a never-ending roller coaster.

Cannabis has been a crucial aid in both my anxiety and depression, allowing me to take the edge off when things feel too intense. Along with other self-regulation techniques, it helps me manage my mental health, bringing me a little closer to the balance I constantly strive for. Though I’m still working to find steady footing, I’m grateful for the tools I’ve gained along the way, each helping me navigate my anxiety and its many layers.

6) Dyslexia: Language and Processing Differences

Dyslexia adds another layer to my neurospicy identity, affecting how I process written and spoken language. Although I didn’t officially receive a diagnosis until college, dyslexia has been with me for as long as I can remember. Growing up, I always struggled with reading and writing, but back then, dyslexia was primarily associated with jumbled letters and words on a page. Since my symptoms didn’t fit that narrow definition, I went years not realizing that my challenges with language actually stemmed from dyslexia. Today, we know that dyslexia manifests in a range of ways, from language processing to working memory, which finally helped me make sense of the difficulties I’d always faced.

Grammar and reading comprehension have long been struggles, and my thoughts often feel scrambled, as if my brain is racing to keep up with the speed of my ideas. Dyslexia has also impacted my speech, making it harder to organize my thoughts and communicate them clearly—something I only noticed when I started telling stories on my YouTube channel. Instead of following a smooth A-B-C flow, I’ll sometimes jump around, saying A-C-B or B-C-A, leaving the story disjointed. Thank goddess for editing software, which lets me reorder my story and make sense of my message, or trim out irrelevant parts that I may have added unintentionally.

This difficulty with reading is one reason I’ve always gravitated towards movies over books. Watching a story unfold on screen allows me to see and absorb it without the challenge of processing long text passages. But when I do finish reading a book, it feels like a massive accomplishment—a testament to my perseverance. The fact that I was able to write and publish a book is one of my proudest achievements, considering the obstacles dyslexia has placed in my path. Creating something that requires such focus and attention to detail was no small feat, and it’s a reminder that, while dyslexia is part of who I am, it doesn’t limit what I’m capable of achieving.

Bonus Traits: Empathy, INFJ-A, and Freedom in Love

Beyond these primary elements, I identify as an empath, a trait that often blends intuitive gifts with a trauma response from childhood. Early experiences taught me to tune into others’ emotions as a way to gauge safety and understand my environment. Over time, this heightened sensitivity developed into an ability to sense emotional shifts and pick up on others' energy, but it can sometimes lead me to absorb emotions deeply, often disregarding my own. Empathy like this can be a double-edged sword: it enables me to connect and understand others profoundly, yet it also requires careful boundaries to prevent emotional exhaustion.

My INFJ-A personality type (Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, Judging - Assertive) is another lens through which I navigate the world. Known as the "Advocate" or "Idealist," INFJs are one of the rarest personality types, often described as deep thinkers with a drive to create positive change. As an INFJ, I’m constantly seeking meaning and connections in my experiences, relationships, and the world around me. I crave authenticity, and I’m driven to help and uplift others, but this often leaves me feeling the weight of others' emotions. The assertive nature of INFJ-A gives me a slightly different take on this personality, as it means I’m more resilient and self-assured, less prone to self-doubt compared to INFJ-T types. Still, the complexity of this personality type often leads to feeling misunderstood or out of place, especially since INFJs are known for being perfectionistic and holding themselves to high standards.

Lastly, my bisexuality and polyamorous orientation reflect my perspective on love as something boundless, a freedom to connect openly and deeply with others. For me, polyamory is an extension of empathy and respect for each person’s unique essence; I believe in forming meaningful, enriching connections with more than one person at a time. It aligns with my view of love as universal and with my desire for fluidity and openness in relationships. Each connection adds depth to my understanding of love and self, encouraging me to see relationships as mutual journeys of growth and shared experiences rather than limitations. Embracing polyamory has become a form of self-love and authenticity for me, allowing me to build connections based on genuine resonance rather than societal expectations.

Conclusion: The Power of Being Neurospicy

Being neurospicy isn’t just about the challenges I face; it’s about embracing the ways my brain works differently. Like the Divergents in the movie series, my neurospicy traits don’t fit neatly into one category. Instead, they’re a blend of strengths and struggles, each adding flavor to my life. The journey to understanding and accepting these parts of myself has been long, but it has also been Empowering.

By owning my neurospicy personality, I’m learning how to navigate the world on my terms, seeking new coping mechanisms, and leaning into my creative, empathetic, and intuitive strengths. Life as a neurospicy individual is complex, but it’s also rich with potential. Each day, I’m learning more about how to thrive within this unique brain chemistry—and that, in itself, is a Victory!

Welcome to How My Brain Works!!