A Different Kind of Smart: Navigating Life as a Neurodivergent Girl

Written By: Julia Little

Ever since I was little, I had lots of dream jobs: a vet, a scientist, the prime minister, a police officer, and my personal favourite - a Zamboni driver. You could say I had a lot of interests, and I still do. I was raised with the belief that I can achieve all of my dreams in life, and that my hard work will pay off. I still hold these values close to my heart but I have learned that in some respects, they are not completely true.

When I began school, I soon discovered that I was different from my peers. I loved anything creative and fun but when it came to understanding language and reading, I quickly fell. I knew I couldn’t learn like my classmates, but I was too embarrassed and afraid to admit it to anyone. Fearful of being perceived as less capable, I doubled my efforts to conceal my struggles. My strategy for reading aloud in class involved meticulously planning for my turn and practicing my paragraph repeatedly until I could recite it flawlessly. With my heart pounding, I'd perform the rehearsed words, hoping to pass undetected among my peers and teachers. Miraculously, I was able to fool everyone around me. Using this and a variety of other tactics, I skillfully moved through all my language arts classes, somehow achieving a remarkable average in Grade 12 English and receiving a host of university acceptances. Despite these achievements, I couldn’t shake the feeling of deceit, knowing that I had never read a book or engaged much with the elements of school that required reading.

The turning point came when I got a psychoeducational assessment during my gap year, revealing that I had both a specific learning disability in reading, known as dyslexia, as well as ADHD. Although I knew that my brain worked differently my whole life, when I heard those words, I finally felt seen and understood. I looked back at the years of feeling embarrassed and stupid and had a new love for myself. I realized that my feelings of self-doubt and hiding were not indicative of not working hard enough in school. Instead, I discovered that my difficulties and resulting poor self-perception were due to something completely out of my control. For the first time I was able to have compassion for myself and a deeper level of self-acceptance. Interestingly, this is the experience of many neurodivergent girls within the education system. Girls are much less likely to get diagnosed than boys, and often experience a high degree of pressure to fit in with their peers, and thus, anxiety about being different. The tragic result of girls’ shame and hiding is that they don’t get the educational supports they need. For me, the stigma associated with being a neurodivergent woman with specific learning needs has made my educational experience anything but simple.

Despite these challenges, I never doubted my ability to achieve my goals; however, I couldn’t figure out the specific education and career path that was right for me. I began my university studies in a program deeply entrenched in discussing global issues. The program's negative slant, demanding reading workload, and the apparent scarcity of career opportunities it offered, left me feeling unsure about my future prospects. During my third year, I recognized the situation I was in and realized that I was unsatisfied with my current path. This prompted me to switch degrees entirely, enrolling in a new program at the Lang School of Business. I had basically scrapped my past degree and started over. This decision came with its own set of stressors, but something was different about this choice…I felt hopeful. I felt hopeful that I would be challenged to learn something new that I enjoy, hopeful that I had a future career that fits who I am, hopeful that I could use my creativity, hopeful that I could showcase the unique strengths of my brain, and hopeful that I could be whoever I wanted to be. Having a new perspective has given me confidence to chase even harder after my dreams and to say yes to the opportunities that are presented to me at Lang. 

As I approach the conclusion of my fourth year at university, I acknowledge that my career path is still undefined, and I’m at peace with that. My journey from kindergarten to the present has taught me that my weaknesses do not define me. It’s hard to get through long chapters in textbooks and to pay attention in lectures, but my unique brain has made me a skilled communicator, someone who excels under pressure, and a creative problem-solver who thinks of solutions that are outside the box. These challenges don’t diminish my worth; they affirm my humanity. And who knows—perhaps one day, I’ll fulfill my childhood dream of becoming a Zamboni driver.