This title may surprise some practitioners who work with autistic people, people with ADHD, or other neurodivergent people. I want to bring into the light something about neurodivergent experience that often stays in the shadows. This article is based on my psychotherapeutic work with neurodivergent adults.
My hypothesis is that a child whose nervous system has particular characteristics perceives the world somewhat differently from birth. Sensory experiences may feel excessive, or other experiences of the surrounding world may overload the nervous system because of the way it functions. I have previously written about research concerning heightened amygdala activity in neurodivergence and PTSD. My hypothesis is that a protective response can develop very early: intellectual abilities become especially active, and the person turns to intellectualization during childhood as protection against feeling the world too intensely.
From the outside, the person may therefore appear not to understand other people’s emotions or their own sensations. Yet this may be a psychological defense.
Why do I think this?
Over many years of working with neurodivergent people, I have repeatedly noticed this sensitivity emerge: something that was there all along but remained hidden. When an adult’s work on themselves, or psychological support for a child, strengthens self-regulation enough for them to tolerate strong signals from their nervous system, they may suddenly notice how sensitively they respond to other people’s emotions, words, and emotional states, and how strongly they pick up nonverbal cues. It is as though they can now consciously use a sense that was there all along.
With sufficient self-regulation, this high sensitivity can become a friend that helps the person navigate the world, rather than an enemy that exhausts their nervous system. Some autistic people have described it to me as gaining an additional sense that they did not previously experience, one that helps them make sense of their surroundings.
For example, they begin to recognize what nourishes them, gives them strength, and helps them remain active, regulated, and focused. This might be art, music, poetry, a good piece of writing, a walk, body-oriented work or exercise, quiet or solitude, or a heartfelt conversation in which they don’t have to defend themselves.
These things may stop being pleasant extras and become a source of nourishment and energy. They become ways to feel alive, to feel real, to be deeply involved in life through the body and feelings—not only through thinking.
This inner reference point, this newly accessible sense, can help explain many experiences. For example, why a boundary violation can feel so destructive. Not only an obvious physical violation, but any intrusion: into one’s space, concentration, right to be alone or tired, or right to stop.
When someone is busy and immersed in their thoughts, being abruptly pulled out of that state can also feel like a violation of a personal boundary. For a neurodivergent person, boundaries often are not an abstract psychological concept. They are closely tied to maintaining the stability of the nervous system.
When sensitivity to oneself returns, it may initially feel unfamiliar or even painful. It can resemble sitting on a leg until it goes numb, then moving and feeling the uncomfortable sensations as it wakes up. There is a period of adjustment: the nervous system, and the person themselves, are getting used to being able to feel this part of life.
Previously, the person may not have felt it directly. They may have inferred their discomfort from indirect signs rather than sensations. Deep exhaustion after an interaction might tell them that a relationship was harmful. A sudden stress-related stomachache might make them realize that they experienced stress an hour earlier. Feeling depleted after a social event might tell them that this way of socializing did not suit them.
Sensitivity helps them notice discomfort much earlier. The person then has to learn to live with that awareness. This discovery does not always bring immediate relief: at first, they may realize how long they have lived with overload, how much they have endured, and how often they have mistaken an inner sense of “I feel bad” for the ordinary background of life.
The good news is that this creates room for choice: what replenishes, what nourishes, and what drains. Sensitivity, especially high sensitivity, can become a feature rather than a bug. It becomes an inner compass that helps the person navigate the world through sensations as well as intellectual understanding.
The work of psychotherapy is then to help the person notice these signals, make sense of them, and find their way by them—even when they are very faint. Inner support is not about remaining strong and unbroken in every circumstance. It is about staying sensitive to oneself: noticing dangerous, worrying, or exhausting situations early, before they have taken enormous amounts of energy. Feeling grounded in yourself means recognizing what is happening inside you and being able to name it.
And at that point, there is freedom to choose.
Related reading in English
- Supporting Neurodivergent Clients: Recommendations for Practitioners, Part 1
- Neurodiversity and Neurodivergence: What Is the Difference?
- Regulation and Self-Regulation
- A Child’s Individual Profile in DIRFloortime®
- Following the Child’s Lead Does Not Mean Doing Nothing
Neurodivergence resources · DIRFloortime® · Sessions, training, and supervision