Intersectional Neurodiversity
- Meridith Byrne
- Nov 4
- 3 min read
I’ll never forget the day my primary care doctor picked up on a passing comment and sent me to be evaluated for ADHD. I’d told her that my usual strategies for managing too many responsibilities were starting to fail me, and I was worried about crashing out again, as I had once or twice before.
She looked up from her notes. “You have strategies to manage executive function?”
“Yeah, I have to. Otherwise I mess up.”
“Have you ever considered that it might be an attention deficit?”
Boom. My life changed.
I went to the specialist, filled out the forms, took the tests—and got the diagnosis: ADHD, Inattentive Type. Finally, I had language for my experiences. A reason behind my quirks and struggles. An answer to the question I’d asked myself in the mirror so many times:
“Why am I the way I am?”
Community Intersections
Since then, I’ve learned some things about myself and others in the ND community. First, there are so many Gen Xers and Millennials getting their diagnoses late in life. I’m far from unique, and so many of us have survived decades of shame.
Second, a late diagnosis can only come with the privilege of access to healthcare or the good fortune of having a provider who truly listens.
What I’m talking about is intersectionality. Maybe you’ve never heard the term, or maybe you’ve only heard it tossed around like a buzzword in academic spaces. But in real life, it can mean the difference between surviving and being seen.
A Black autistic woman experiences the world differently than a white autistic man. A trans ADHDer raised in poverty faces a different fight than a straight, middle-class one. A person with trauma might interpret their executive dysfunction not as a quirk of neurology but as a legacy of survival.

Each of these threads: race, gender, sexuality, class, and trauma interacts with neurodivergence to shape how people are treated, supported, or dismissed. It affects who gets diagnosed, who gets help, and who gets blamed.
It’s not just about how divergent we are. It’s about how much room the world gives us to diverge without consequence.
If I’m being honest, I struggle at the intersection of neurodivergence, gender, and age. But I also know that my race and education make some things easier for me than they might be for others.
That’s intersectionality.
Masking and Unmasking: Unequal Choices
Masking often gets described as either a tragedy or a betrayal, something you do until you collapse, or something you refuse to do as an act of rebellion. But the truth is messier. Some of us were able to mask when the world demanded it. Some of us couldn’t. Both realities carry grief.
The ability to “pass” for neurotypical is neither a moral achievement nor a form of luck, it’s a function of environment, expectations, and intersection. For some, it’s protection. For others, it’s impossible.
And for all of us, it comes at a cost.
The Permission to Be Many
What I want most for us, for the whole neurodivergent constellation, is gentleness. Gentleness toward those who can’t fake it another day, and gentleness toward those just realizing they’ve been faking it their whole lives.
We can joke. We can celebrate our weirdness. We can meme our quirks and honor our differences. But we can also remember that sometimes, some of us are empty. Some of us are scraping by with one spoon left and no clean fork in sight.
There’s no right way to survive, only the next breath, the next day, the next small grace. So when you meet another neurodivergent person, don’t assume sameness. Assume story—and then listen.
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