When Neurodivergence Meets Trauma: Rethinking What Our Struggles Are Trying to Tell Us

Teresa Hobbs
7 days ago
5 min read

In the past few years, more and more people have come to identify with terms like ADHD, autism, sensory sensitivity, and neurodivergence. For many, these labels have been a relief. They can feel like a long-awaited explanation for why life has felt harder, louder, or more overwhelming than it seems to be for others. I’ve heard SO many people describe the moment they learned about ADHD or were given a label as… “I felt understood and seen for the first time.” When we finally have a framework that validates our struggles, it can feel like being handed a map in a land we’ve wandered lost in for years.

But what if that map, helpful as it is, doesn’t tell the whole story?

What if some of the traits we’re calling neurodivergent are also, or even primarily, the body’s natural response to prolonged stress? What if our brains and nervous systems, shaped by early life environments or chronic overwhelm, are doing exactly what they were designed to do to survive?

ADHD, autism, and other forms of neurodivergence are often described in terms of brain differences. And there are neurological patterns associated with these diagnoses, like variations in how the brain processes attention, social cues, sensory input, and regulation. But… here’s the thing… trauma, especially chronic developmental trauma, can lead to the same patterns. That includes poor focus, emotional reactivity, sensory overload, impulsivity, social withdrawal, and shutdown.

When we experience consistent overwhelming stress, especially early in life, our nervous system adapts. It may stay in a fight-or-flight state longer. It may become more sensitive to sound, light, or unpredictability. It may struggle to focus or plan when survival feels like the priority. These are not signs of a broken brain, they are signs of a brilliant one that adjusted to its environment.

In addition, there is such a thing as… learned fragility, where a child grows up with too little adversity, thereby learning to equate discomfort with danger. Not all nervous system sensitivity is the result of trauma, sometimes it’s the result of never being allowed to stretch. Feeling protected is vital but so is being given permission to stumble, repair and rise again. We learn how to regulate by being allowed to experience stress and move through it. The same is true of relational ruptures. We learn relational safety by getting to experience rupture followed by repair, which builds capacity to tolerate discordance in relationship. People who never see their parents argue tend to fear conflict even more than those who do see it, but also get to witness healthy repair.

So, when someone meets the criteria for ADHD or autism later in life, especially after years of dysregulation, wouldn’t it be wise to ask: Is this how their brain was wired from the start? Is this how their system adapted to stay safe? Or, is this due to lack of challenge which disrupted their ability to build a healthy, resilient nervous system?

This doesn’t mean the struggles aren’t real or in many cases debilitating and overwhelming. They are. And… for many people, the neurodivergent label has been life-changing in the best way by offering compassion, community, and accommodations that allow for greater ease in life. However, for others, the label can become limiting. It can start to feel like a life sentence instead of a starting point. It can make us believe we are permanently dysregulated, permanently dependent, permanently fragile.

Just to be clear, I’m not referring here to individuals with clear, early-onset, severe autism, where traits are recognizable in infancy or early childhood, and where there is significant and consistent difficulty with language, sensory integration, or forming relationships. This post is speaking more to individuals who receive later diagnoses of “mild autism” or are described as being “on the spectrum,” and who have capacity for meaningful relationships, emotional depth, and social functioning, even if those things feel effortful or overwhelming at times. In those cases, I believe it’s valuable to look at the possible overlap with nervous system adaptations and the impact of trauma or chronic stress.

Those of you who know me, are aware of how much I LOVE nuance so let’s apply that here… We need space to ask, not just… "What do I have that makes me this way?" but "What happened to me and how did I adapt?" Not just … "What am I and what labels explain why things are hard?" but "What does my system need to feel safe and whole again?" … and … “What ways can I normalize and build tolerance for discomfort and expand my capacity?”

The perception of our experience can actually perpetuate the struggle, making things harder and preventing us from meaningfully engaging in the healing process. I’m all about normalizing a person’s experience, offering psycho education as to how patterns can develop, anti-shaming those who struggle, but I ALWAYS follow that up with… and this doesn’t have to be permanent. You can gently, slowly and compassionately work with your brain and nervous system to make meaningful shifts in your experience!

From my own healing journey and years of supporting others, I’ve seen this truth again and again: nervous systems can heal. They can re-pattern. They can learn safety again. They can expand tolerance and capacity. Traits that look like ADHD or autism may soften or shift as someone builds internal safety, co-regulation, and capacity. And sometimes, what we thought was a permanent state turns out to be a signal, not of who we are, but of what we’ve carried and how we’ve adapted to either too much or too little stress.

So yes, name the pattern and get the support. If a label helps for a time, use it but don’t forget to stay open and curious about the brain and nervous system’s inherent malleability. It’s not necessary to pathologize everything that we find challenging in life and not every part of your experience is permanent. Your nervous system is more adaptable than you’ve been told. Healing and expansion are not just possible, they are wired into who you are.