Some people cope with difficult situations by reframing them as blessings, often to the point of denial.
They say, defiantly: had I not been forced into this, I would have chosen it myself.
When Little One was 9 months old, I started exploring Down Syndrome support groups on social media. I remember commenting on a photo of a cute toddler and introducing myself. Her mother replied enthusiastically. She told me that we were ‘the lucky ones'. As if having a child with Down Syndrome were an unexpected prize no one knew they were looking for.
I didn't feel lucky. I still don't.
All that comment did was add shame to the grief I felt for the child I thought I would have.
I love him, absolutely. To magically delete his Down Syndrome or autism would change him. I would never choose that. But if you'd asked me when I was pregnant, I would have chosen the neurotypical option without hesitation.
That’s my guilt-laden honesty.
Parenting him is relentless. I’m grateful he’s healthy and happy. I love him with all my heart, but I worry about him and am equally exhausted by him at all times.
I feel the same about calling ADHD or autism ‘superpowers’.
It negates the difficult experiences most neurodivergent people have daily. It glosses over the daily struggles most of us face.
Sure, individual traits can be called superpowers - I’ve done that myself:
But the whole package is more complex - nuanced.
I feel lucky that I’ve identified my AuDHD, late as that was; I no longer feel like a loser, a fuck up. I allow myself kindness.
Am I happy to be autistic and have ADHD? That’s an easy no.
I don’t know life any other way, but I’m willing to bet it would have been easier without this particular wiring. Eighteen months in, I’ve barely scratched the surface of how it’s shaped my life.
Understandably, then, it irks me when people present the idea of neurodivergence as anything other than complex.
Both my son’s diagnoses and my late discovery of AuDHD have taught me more about myself and society than I ever imagined. The lessons were hard won, but I value them deeply. Life is complicated enough; toxic positivity only adds another layer, invalidating feelings and fuelling negative self-talk.
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I wrote about this a while ago "not believing my illness a superpower doesn't make me bitter" it's okay to be honest about our reality. Thanks for sharing! 💚
Really appreciated this post, Alys. 😊 I think toxic positivity is such a common response from a lot of people when anything occurs that is different from the average, and often just when we express something but gratitude. I think people feel awkward and don’t know what to say, but I wish those would just ask what we’d like them to say, how we’d like support.
You can be both grateful for what you have and experience an array of other emotions (negative and positive)! Why people don’t understand the layers of human emotion is beyond me 😅