Bionic Reading: A Neurodivergent person being bullied? Shock.

I don’t want to start this with the cliché, “Growing up, I always knew I was different,” but honestly, it feels like the only way to begin, so…

Growing up, I always knew I was different. I just didn’t know why.

I come from a typical Scouse family whose idea of fun back in the day was short dresses, high heels, and a bottle of Glen’s on the way into town. Gorgeous, tan, blonde, my idea of beauty at the time. My family are also Irish Catholic, which means there’s a lot of us. My poor nan.

So, I grew up surrounded by older cousins who wore the scouse prinny crown with pride. On top of that, I’m one of four daughters. My two eldest sisters are 7 and 8 years older than me, so when I was in high school nobody believed they were related to me. They were tan, blonde, and entering their twenties, while I was pale, dark-haired, and listening to Paramore on the bus home.

I went to a typical Merseyside Catholic school (I won’t doxx myself, but if you can recite the Hail Mary in French or Spanish, you know the one).

Back then, I had no clue I was neurodivergent. I just thought I spent too much time on the internet. Looking back, it makes sense why I was bullied so much. The jon eds I went to school with were never going to accept an emo/indie/One Direction fan who was usually the loudest person in the room. I thought I was just “different”. Still, the bullying was relentless, and it wrecked my mental health. You couldn’t pay me to go back there.

When I left school, I found people similar to me, most are still my closest friends today. So I assumed there was nothing “different” about me other than my love of Kerrang! and Tumblr.

It wasn’t until an ex-boyfriend told me I might be neurodivergent that I even considered it. At first, I thought he was just being a knobhead (and to be fair, he often was). But it made me start researching ADHD, and here I am: diagnosed at 26 and still figuring life out.

Now, I should mention something. Before that particular relationship, I was never a people pleaser. If I didn’t like you, you’d know about it. I was ruthless. Fast forward a year after that breakup, though, and I’d become the biggest people pleaser going. Keep that in mind as we move into the next bit.

Because at 27 (yes, 27), I’m being bullied again. What the fuck.

This time feels different, even though it stings just like school. The difference is: I haven’t done anything wrong. Not that I was “wrong” back then either but you know, kids are just cruel. This time round I’ve had vicious rumours spread about me for no reason other than people love to talk shit.

And here’s the problem: I’m a people pleaser now. So standing up for myself feels impossible. What’s worse is trying to wrap my head around people disliking me over lies instead of acting like adults and speaking to me directly.

In school, I fell into depression because of bullying. At the time, I told myself, “They’re kids, they don’t think about how they’re affecting me.” But now? These are adults. They know. My rejection sensitivity dysphoria (RSD) has been triggered hard, and my suicidal thoughts have been louder than ever, and the part I can’t understand is you’re telling me not one person has enough empathy to stop this witch hunt?

My nan always said, “Silence is golden.” But honestly? Is it? I’ve stayed silent, and all it’s done is allow the rumours and bitching to spread further, turning friends into strangers.

Why is this still happening to me at 27? Will I always be a target just because I’m different? Maybe. It feels like bullying and being neurodivergent go hand in hand. People love to pick apart what they don’t understand.

The only explanation I can think of is jealousy. I never believed that line when people said it to me growing up, but what else makes sense? If I’d done something wrong, fine, hold me accountable. But I haven’t. And yet my name stays in their mouths, I’m stalked on social media, and I’m painted as the villain. So yeah, maybe it’s jealousy. And honestly? Fair enough. If I wasn’t me, I’d probably wanna be me too.

So I’ll keep being me. They can keep being hateful.

If you’re reading this and going through something similar, hold your head high! I know it’s agonising, especially when you’re neurodivergent and most people don’t understand that pain, but remember this: you are already stronger, kinder, and better than the ones who gang up on you for being different.

All the love,

Shan xo