For as long as I can remember, I’ve been an an outlier—not just in the neurotypical world but even within neurodivergent spaces where I thought I might find understanding. I’m a hyper-verbal, hyper-empathic, flat-affect individual whose mental capability has always measured “extremely high”. These traits don’t just make me unique; they often leave me on the edges of communities where I desperately want to belong.
I’ve spent decades navigating this dynamic, and while I’ve built spaces of my own—a blog, ASCAP-registered lyrics, and posts on platforms like Bluesky and Discord—I still encounter the same painful patterns. Conversations go silent when I speak. Groups turn me out because I’m “not just like them.” Even in spaces designed for inclusivity, difference is often met with discomfort or rejection.
This isn’t a struggle with self-esteem; I know my worth and wouldn’t change who I am even if I could. My frustration lies in the world’s unwillingness to accept me as I am. The rejection feels even sharper in communities that claim to celebrate diversity but seem to enforce unspoken norms of sameness.
At nearly 60 years old, after a lifetime of trying to find belonging, I’m angry and tired. The world does a reliable job of reminding me that I don’t fit in, but I know that’s not my fault—it’s a reflection of societal rigidity and fear of difference. Still, the question remains: Where is the compromise? How do you find connection when even “community” spaces seem to shun you?
The Challenges of Being an Outlier
- Group Dynamics Favor Conformity
Even in neurodivergent or trauma-focused spaces, people often gravitate toward those who mirror their own experiences or communication styles. My hyperverbal nature and intellectual depth can feel overwhelming or intimidating to others who aren’t equipped to engage at that level. - The Double Empathy Problem
Neurodivergent individuals often experience communication mismatches with both neurotypicals and other neurodivergent people. My way of expressing myself—intense, detailed, and emotionally complex—doesn’t always align with how others process or communicate. - The Myth of Inclusivity
Many community spaces claim to value diversity but struggle to accommodate people who don’t fit neatly into their norms. This creates an unspoken expectation of conformity that leaves outliers like me feeling excluded.
Strategies for Navigating Life as an Outlier
While there’s no easy solution to this lifelong challenge, here are some strategies that have helped me—and might help others—navigate the pain of exclusion while continuing to seek meaningful connection:
1. Redefine Belonging
Belonging doesn’t have to mean fitting into existing structures—it can mean creating your own:
- Celebrate your uniqueness instead of trying to conform.
- Recognize that being on the edges doesn’t diminish your worth; it highlights your individuality.
2. Curate Intentional Connections
Large groups often amplify exclusionary dynamics, so focus on smaller-scale or one-on-one relationships:
- Seek out individuals within larger communities who seem open to deeper engagement.
- Build relationships slowly over time rather than expecting immediate acceptance from entire groups.
3. Protect Your Energy
Repeated rejection takes a toll, so it’s important to set boundaries:
- Leave spaces that consistently drain you without guilt.
- Invest your time and energy in relationships where there’s mutual effort and respect.
4. Channel Anger Into Advocacy
Your frustration is valid—it’s a response to decades of exclusion and misunderstanding. Use it as fuel:
- Write about your experiences to raise awareness about what it means to be an outlier.
- Advocate for better inclusivity in community spaces by sharing constructive feedback with moderators or leaders.
5. Seek Niche Communities
Instead of general neurodivergent or trauma-focused groups, look for communities built around specific interests or traits:
- Intellectual discussion groups (e.g., philosophy forums, writing workshops).
- Creative collectives (e.g., lyricists’ groups, storytelling circles).
- Spaces for high-IQ individuals who value depth and complexity.
A Hard Truth—and a Hopeful One
The world may not change fast enough for me—or others like me—to see the full acceptance we deserve in our lifetimes. That’s an infuriating reality, but it doesn’t mean we stop seeking connection or building spaces where we can thrive.
I’ve learned that being an outlier is both a challenge and a gift. It means walking a harder path but also seeing the world through a lens that few others share. While rejection still hurts—and likely always will—I hold onto the hope that there are others out there who will see me for who I truly am.
If you’re reading this and feel like you’re on the edges too, know this: You are not alone in your experience, even if it feels that way right now. Keep creating, keep speaking up, and keep holding onto the truth that your difference is something worth celebrating—even when the world struggles to see it.