Dialogue, neurodivergence and dead branches: when understanding is not enough

Between past and present, one thing that strikes me is the questions I ask myself. Metacognition and reticular thinking naturally lead to questioning, and anyone who reads me and recognises themselves in even one of them will confirm it.

One of these questions is about social interactions. How we communicate with those who are different from us, with those who have a way of being in the world that we do not immediately understand, or that we understand too late.

Society and the masks we wear

We have arrived at comfortable conclusions: “This is just who I am, accept me.” “I am direct, appreciate me.” Phrases that sometimes hide truths, but are often masks. Many psychologists work on exactly this, and there is no point denying it.

In other cases you run into the topic of neurodivergence. Not because of neurodivergent people themselves, but because of how society has always managed, or rather failed to manage, mental health and cognitive care. Not asking questions is the biggest mistake any of us can make, regardless of who we are.

Because if someone has a diagnosis, recognises it, and manages it through therapy, the key on our side is knowing how to communicate. I touched on this in one of my early posts, almost as a challenge: neurodivergence should push us toward a different way of relating. Asking the right questions, discussing, drawing conclusions. Having one more variable. The other person feels understood, we gain clarity. Compromise becomes equilibrium. Applied philosophy, I would say.

Three types of people, three different dynamics

The problem arises with those who deny. And here it is worth distinguishing.

Those who say “I probably have something but I am fine as I am” lack information, but the conversation is often mediated by their intelligence. With difficulty, but a common ground can be found.

Those who deny forcefully, “I have no problems, I am not doing anything about it”, build something different. A defensive narrative that over time becomes increasingly elaborate. Every crisis gets explained, every explanation has to hold the weight of the previous ones, every time the system cracks it rebuilds itself more resistant than before. I have seen this happen up close, in more than one case, in different contexts. And I have seen how even when you manage to momentarily break that narrative, the next day it rebuilds itself more solid than before. Without structured inner work, it is almost inevitable.

When you are on the other side

I have lived situations where these dynamics put me in difficulty. Personally and professionally. Situations where I looked for a way through for a long time because I did not want to penalise anyone, where I swallowed things out of respect, where I chose not to speak even when I could have.

And here comes the uncomfortable part I have to say to myself first: the choice was mine. Not in the sense that I should have been cruel or ruthless. But in the sense that I should have acted sooner. Acting did not mean speaking badly of someone or calling them out. It meant setting clear boundaries before the situation became impossible to manage.

Society would say “it is work, cut it off.” I have always wanted to work on the human side first, find balance, look for the win-win. But the worst dynamic is when the other person does not want to do any inner work at all, not even minimal, not even personal introspection with adequate tools. And the narrative they build becomes damaging not only for you but for everyone, the client included, and in the long run for him too.

What I have understood

I am not saying these people are bad. I do not think that. I am saying that society for decades has said “be strong”, “keep going”, “do not make a fuss”, building in people increasingly complex and resistant narratives. Feeling serene on the surface while something inside was slowly getting worse. And often not even recognising it.

If you suspect a neurodivergence, yours or someone close to you, investigate it. There is nothing wrong with that. Do not put yourself or those you love in a glass bell jar, but try to understand. Having that variable changes communication, changes expectations, changes the way you can build real equilibrium instead of a facade one.

And if you are on the other side, keep asking yourself questions. Interact. Accept other people’s choices without rigidifying or bending the world to your way. Because you have to know how to accept, cut the dead branches, and take care of what is worth keeping.

Last week I did not write because I was genuinely recharging. Forcing a post made no sense. Today instead, thinking about what has happened to me lately, I felt that talking about it together was worth it.

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