I Am Not Your Nightmare
By Lee-Anne Ford
Raise, rise, recognise reductionism, realise realities
End excuses, embrace equity, empower existence
Sigh, smile, see struggle, strength, stims, silence
Paint pain pink, prioritise presence, push past pity
Ease, echelons echo, elevate empathy, erase empty eulogies
Clean co-existence, challenge condescension, cultivate connection
Thrive together, think thoughts, trust tomorrow
Want the whole Anthology? It’s here.
April is Autism Awareness Month. But that’s wrong. We don’t need awareness. We need acceptance.
We need acceptance of the Level 3 autists with significant challenges.
We need acceptance of the Level 2 autists with fewer challenges.
We need acceptance of the Level 1 autists, like me, with fewer challenges than a Level 2 autist—but challenges nonetheless.
We need acceptance simply because our brains are built and wired differently. It is in our DNA; every cell of our body is autistic. We cannot be anything but autistic.
And to us? Neurotypicals—allistics—are the weird ones who don’t make sense.
If you can’t accept that, then at least recognise the equity you deny us. Recognise the social cohesion that is lost in the absence of equity and inclusion.
But back to regular business.
The Chiaroscuro Anthology is a collection of 19 poems, published here throughout April. (If you want everything all at once, there’s a PDF.)
And now—the writer’s statement.
Light alone is shapeless. A flood with no shore, a dawn without contrast. It spills, uncontained, flattening all into a seamless glow. There is no form, no edge, no texture—only a blinding sameness.
Darkness alone is abyss. A void that swallows, erasing all it touches. It stretches infinite, consuming definition, devouring meaning until nothing remains but an echo of absence.
Between them—chiaroscuro. The whisper of shadow against skin, the ember in the midnight hush. Here, light sharpens into something more than mere brightness; it carves faces, silhouettes, stories. Here, darkness finds its purpose—not as oblivion, but as contrast, as depth, as the place where light reveals itself most truly.
What is the light without darkness?
A glare with no soul.
What is the darkness without light?
A silence with no song.
But together—
Together, they paint a world.
Together, they paint an autistic world.
—
The Chiaroscuro Anthology is my contribution to Autism Awareness Month. It is not just poetry—it is my autism laid bare, in shadow and light.
This is my rage at the world’s expectations.
This is my grief for what was lost.
This is my discovery of what was always there.
This is my unification of self.
Each piece is a reflection of contrast, intensity, and depth—the way I experience the world. Chiaroscuro is not just art; it is how I exist.
This is my applied phenomenology
Minorities. It’s easy for society to overlook minorities. That’s why Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) programs are so important. (America, take note.)
Tenants? Minority. Disability? Minority.
But how much of a minority is my new mob, the neurodivergent mob. Bigger than I thought. “1 in 4” big. 25%. A substantial minority.
If a disease had a 25% fatality rate…
If cyclones had a 25% crossing rate…
If planes had a 25% of crashing on take off…
If, if, if. 25% is not to be sneezed at or disrespected. Yet, collectively, neurodivergent people are folded, spindled and mutilated. $3 an hour in sheltered workshops. Low employment rates. Erased in plain sight.
25%.
Here’s ChatGPT’s interpretation of my refusal to let 25% be ignored. And another mention of my new intellectual crush…
1 in 4: Understanding Neurodivergence and Its True Prevalence
In recent years, the term neurodivergence has gained traction in discussions about education, workplace accommodations, and healthcare. But what does it actually mean? How does it manifest in real life? And just how common is it?
The answer to that last question might surprise you. Neurodivergence isn’t a rarity—it’s the norm for at least 1 in 4 people, meaning that a quarter of the population experiences the world through a different cognitive lens. Yet, society often operates under the assumption that neurotypical cognition is the default, making life unnecessarily difficult for millions.
Understanding neurodivergence—its prevalence, history, and societal implications—isn’t just about increasing awareness; it’s about challenging outdated assumptions and redesigning the world so it works for all brains, not just some.
What is Neurodivergence?
Neurodivergence is an umbrella term referring to natural variations in human brains and cognitive processing. It encompasses conditions such as:
Autism
ADHD
Dyslexia
Dyspraxia
Tourette’s syndrome
Dyscalculia
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)
Bipolar disorder
Epilepsy (which often has neurological overlaps)
Acquired neurodivergence (from brain injuries, PTSD, stroke, or conditions like long COVID)
Coined within the framework of the neurodiversity movement, neurodivergence challenges the traditional medical model, which historically treated these differences as deficits that needed to be “fixed.” Instead, it frames them as variations that come with both strengths and challenges.
The neurodiversity paradigm, championed by sociologist Judy Singer in the late 1990s, positions neurodivergence as a fundamental aspect of human diversity. Just as biodiversity strengthens ecosystems, cognitive diversity strengthens human society, leading to unique insights, creative breakthroughs, and alternative problem-solving strategies.
How Common is Neurodivergence?
The 1 in 4 statistic may seem high, but when you break it down, it becomes clear why it’s actually a conservative estimate:
Autism occurs in at least 1–2% of the population, with rising numbers due to increased recognition.
ADHD affects 5–10% of people, many of whom remain undiagnosed well into adulthood.
Dyslexia impacts 10–15%, making it one of the most common learning differences.
Dyspraxia affects 5–6% of people, influencing motor coordination and spatial awareness.
Mental health conditions with neurological components, such as OCD, bipolar disorder, and epilepsy, also fall under the neurodivergent umbrella.
When we take a broad view—including both lifelong and acquired neurodivergence—the 1 in 4 estimate starts to seem not only accurate but possibly too low.
The Historical Context of Neurodivergence
Neurodivergence is not a modern phenomenon. Throughout history, individuals with neurodivergent traits have existed—but their treatment has varied wildly depending on cultural and societal context.
Some societies recognized and even valued certain neurodivergent traits:
Many indigenous cultures saw individuals with unique cognitive or sensory traits as shamans, seers, or keepers of oral tradition.
Leonardo da Vinci, Nikola Tesla, Emily Dickinson, and Alan Turing—all believed to have been neurodivergent—made groundbreaking contributions in their respective fields. And, more recently, we might consider Lee-Anne’s newly discovered philosopher, Maurice Merleau-Ponty, whose phenomenological work on perception, embodiment, and sensory experience aligns deeply with autistic ways of processing the world.
The stereotype of the eccentric genius, often depicted as socially awkward, hyperfocused, or unconventional, may stem from historical figures who today would be recognized as autistic or ADHD.
However, other societies treated neurodivergence with suspicion, isolation, or outright cruelty. The 20th century saw particularly harsh treatments, from institutionalization to forced sterilization under eugenics programs. Even today, many neurodivergent individuals struggle to access support due to lingering biases.
Understanding this history is crucial—it shows that neurodivergence has always existed, but its perception has been shaped by cultural narratives rather than objective truths.
Misdiagnosis and Intersectionality in Neurodivergence
While 1 in 4 people may be neurodivergent, not all have equal access to diagnosis or support. Women, people of color, and those from lower socioeconomic backgrounds are significantly more likely to be misdiagnosed or overlooked entirely.
Women and Misdiagnosis
Because traditional diagnostic criteria were based on male presentations, many autistic and ADHD women are misdiagnosed with:
Anxiety disorders (especially social anxiety)
Depression (due to burnout from lifelong masking)
Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) (due to emotional dysregulation)
Bipolar disorder (mistaking fluctuating energy levels for manic episodes)
Eating disorders (when sensory issues around food go unrecognized)
This has led to generations of #ActuallyAutistic women discovering their diagnoses only in adulthood, often after a lifetime of feeling “wrong” without understanding why.
Race, Class, and Neurodivergence
The racial and class disparities in diagnosis are stark:
Black and Hispanic children are less likely to be diagnosed with autism than their white counterparts, even when exhibiting the same behaviors.
Low-income individuals may not have access to specialists who can provide an accurate diagnosis.
Cultural expectations often lead to neurodivergent traits being seen as “bad behavior” rather than as neurological differences.
This means that neurodivergence is not just about the brain—it’s about how society interprets and responds to neurological diversity.
The Role of Technology in Neurodivergent Visibility
In recent years, social media and digital spaces have allowed neurodivergent people to find each other, challenge misconceptions, and advocate for systemic change.
The #ActuallyAutistic movement has helped shift the conversation from cure-based narratives to self-advocacy and acceptance.
The rise of self-diagnosis as a valid first step has given many individuals access to understanding and community before seeking formal medical recognition.
Neurodivergent creators are challenging stereotypes and educating millions on platforms like TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube.
Technology has also changed accessibility:
Text-based communication (rather than phone calls) benefits those with auditory processing issues.
Flexible, remote work environments have allowed many neurodivergent individuals to thrive.
Assistive technologies, from speech-to-text software to sensory-friendly apps, are making daily life more navigable.
Final Thoughts: A Philosophical and Sociological Perspective
Philosophically, neurodivergence forces us to redefine intelligence and normalcy. The Enlightenment’s focus on logic and rationality shaped modern institutions—but who decided that linear thinking, eye contact, or standardized learning methods were superior? If intelligence is about creativity, problem-solving, and adaptability, then neurodivergence is an asset, not a flaw.
Sociologically, if 1 in 4 people are struggling to function in a system, the problem isn’t the people—it’s the system. Schools, workplaces, and healthcare models must adapt, moving away from rigid expectations and toward true inclusivity.
Recognizing and accommodating neurodivergence isn’t just about individual rights—it’s about designing a world that truly values the full range of human cognition.
Neurodivergence is not an anomaly—it’s part of what makes us human. And it’s time the world started acting like it.
Here is the link to the transcript of the conversation with ChatGPT.
10,000 Hours of Practice vs. A Lifetime of Masking: Reflections on Mastery in Autism Camouflage
Malcolm Gladwell’s popularization of the “10,000-hour rule” suggests that achieving mastery in any field requires approximately 10,000 hours of deliberate practice. It’s an appealing concept, simplifying the path to expertise into a measurable framework. But as a late-diagnosed autistic adult, I find myself contrasting this idea of practice with the unchosen, unrelenting “practice” I’ve had in masking—51 years of it.
On my autism assessment, I scored in the 96.4th percentile for masking and the 94.2nd percentile for assimilation, numbers that represent the decades I’ve spent learning to suppress, disguise, and override my natural self to navigate a neurotypical world. These scores are a quantification of something intangible: survival through performance. What emerges from this reflection is the concept of a Medal for Autistic Camouflage Mastery—an ironic yet poignant acknowledgment of the incredible, and often devastating, effort it takes to “pass” as neurotypical for half a century.
Gladwell’s rule centers on intentional practice: deliberate, focused work aimed at refining a skill. Masking, however, is rarely deliberate in the same sense. It begins as an instinctive survival mechanism, an unconscious adaptation to the discomfort, rejection, or confusion of being “other.” Over time, it becomes habitual, almost automatic—an internalized choreography of micro-expressions, tone modulation, and scripted responses.
Consider the sheer volume of practice:
Unlike the 10,000 hours Gladwell describes, the “practice” of masking isn’t chosen. It’s demanded. And unlike the mastery of a craft, the rewards of masking are bittersweet: social acceptance at the cost of self-erasure.
If masking were a skill judged on effort and results, I’d have long ago qualified for a medal. The imaginary Medal for Autistic Camouflage Mastery would represent:
Yet, this medal would carry the weight of its price: chronic exhaustion, identity fragmentation, and the toll on mental health. Mastery in masking doesn’t feel like success—it feels like survival at a profound cost.
In a society obsessed with productivity, the value of a person is often measured by their output—how efficiently they can perform, contribute, and conform. For undiagnosed, unsupported, and highly masked autistic individuals, this system demands relentless effort to meet neurotypical standards, often at great personal cost. Masking allows autistic individuals to navigate workplaces and social systems, but it comes with consequences that ripple far beyond the individual.
The capitalist model thrives on hidden labor, and masking is one such invisible cost. The mental and emotional toll of sustaining this level of performance—while managing sensory sensitivities, social anxieties, and burnout—is rarely acknowledged or accommodated. This unrelenting demand often leads to chronic health issues, mental illness, or total withdrawal from the workforce when burnout becomes insurmountable. Society loses the potential contributions of brilliant, creative minds, not because these individuals lack capability, but because the system fails to support them in ways that honor their neurodivergent needs.
When autistic individuals are left undiagnosed or unsupported, society pays a significant price. The energy spent on masking could otherwise be directed toward innovation, problem-solving, and creativity—qualities many autistic people excel at when allowed to flourish authentically. Instead, this potential is often squandered as individuals are funneled into rigid molds that suppress their strengths.
Consider the systemic implications: higher healthcare costs due to burnout, mental health crises, and comorbid conditions; the loss of diverse perspectives in workplaces and communities; and the missed opportunity to build more inclusive systems that accommodate varied ways of thinking and working. Moreover, the emotional toll on families, the community strain of misdiagnosed or misunderstood behaviors, and the perpetuation of stigma further erode social cohesion.
In this light, the capitalist fetish for productivity isn’t just damaging on an individual level—it actively depletes society of the rich contributions neurodivergent individuals could make if only they were supported. Recognizing and accommodating autistic people isn’t a matter of charity—it’s an investment in a future where everyone’s strengths are valued, and no one’s potential is wasted in the shadows of survival.
As I reflect on 51 years of masking, I realize that my “mastery” can evolve. I can shift from being a master of camouflage to a master of self-acceptance, advocacy, and authenticity. The time and energy I once spent on masking can be redirected to pursuits that bring joy and meaning, breaking free from the survival paradigm.
For anyone who, like me, feels they’ve earned that imaginary medal: wear it with pride, but don’t let it define you. Mastery in masking was never the goal. Freedom from the need to mask—that is the mastery we truly deserve.
The Auld Skald's Fudgel 