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July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. More notes at the end of the story.

It was kind of mind-blowing when I realized I fell into the category of “neurodivergent.” Yeah, there were signs, like sensory issues when it came to pencils or getting overwhelmed in crowded places. But for years I was just “quirky.” 

But now I’m neurodivergent, and the new label takes some getting used to. I’m still the same person. I still prefer round pencils and quiet spaces, I still eat my pizza backward, I can still turn your bones into liquid with my brain. 

I have friends, a good job, a pretty normal life. I’m pretty happy with the way things turned out. I learned how to manage my “sensory processing issues” pretty well now, and it’s been years since I accidentally turned anybody’s bones to liquid. 

“Neurodivergent” is a really broad category and I’m sure the label has been great for a lot of people. I still don’t know how I feel about being “neurodivergent,” but it’s more positive than “guy who can turn your bones to liquid,” so I’ll take it. 

A couple years ago I realized that I fell under the umbrella category of “neurodivergent.” This was so mind-blowing that I had to get up and pace and talk to myself. I generally find “neurodiverse” and “neurodivergent” a useful if imperfect label in the general sense, but my feelings about the term as it applies to me are complicated. I wanted to explore that a bit, but feelings are scary so I leaned on humor instead.