Weaving a Web: Neurodivergence and Social Connection
Photo by michael podger on Unsplash
I’m fascinated by the orb weaver spinning a web above my desk. It’s hard to pay attention to writing as she moves back and forth, building her home. Even though most spiders are solitary creatures, I associate them with connection. Maybe that’s because for me, connections are necessary to making the place where I live feel like home.
As mammals our nervous systems develop with attachment to others of our kind as a basic survival strategy. The younger we are, the more we depend on others for our basic survival needs. Because of that developmental history, we continue to need connection with others for the rest of our lives. Even when traumatic attachment failures lead us to avoid connection, we still need attunement (even if it is just within ourselves) for our nervous systems to regulate.
The stereotype of the neurodivergent loner comes from the avoidant behaviors that make it easier to function in a world that is not attuned to our needs and a social environment that can be cruel. To make it worse, when our nervous systems are dysregulated, it’s even more challenging to bridge the gap between our unmasked selves and societal expectations. When I am in burnout, masking can become impossible. I used to call myself “unfit for human consumption” when I was in that state. I longed to respond to every social overture by pointing to the sign in the muni cars, “Information gladly given but safety requires avoiding unnecessary conversation.”
After I reset, though, I can get lonely and bored. In order to renew and recharge, I need connection, but it has to be the right kind. It must be authentic and unmasked. It must meet my sensory needs. And it must be interesting. For me, this usually happens in community. Oxford languages (via Google) defines community as:
a group of people living in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common. "the scientific community"
a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals. "the sense of community that organized religion can provide"
The second definition really speaks to what is important about community connection for me. It includes friends and family, but can include people I’ve never met or only see in passing. Having that feeling of fellowship and shared attitudes can make it easier to know how I’m expected to behave because it gives me a foundation to build on as I observe the community I’m a part of. I can choose how and when to unmask based on those observations. And, perhaps more importantly, if valuing authenticity and acceptance are values shared in the community, I can feel more confident that my unmasked self will be received safely. The communities I join see inclusion as a goal, so there’s a good chance that sensory needs will be considered or the accommodations I advocate for will be accepted. And in communities built around shared interests, the easiest part is making it interesting.
As neurodivergent people, it can be hard to find the right communities for us where we live. Some of the communities I hold dear are only able to get together in person once or twice a year. I’m still building and seeking community where I currently live. Covid has made this even harder. It’s no wonder that many of us find our most important connections online. I hope World Too Full To Talk is becoming a community that will fill some connection needs for it’s members.
What do you look for in community? What helps you find communities that feel like home? Let me know what you think by email or become a member to discuss it in the World Too Full To Talk Community. Thanks for reading!
