My name is Lyric Rivera.

I am NeuroDivergent -Autistic, ADHD, Hyperlexic; I have an anxiety disorder and am a survivor of abuse (which has also shaped my mind).

I am also Queer. I am nonbinary (genderfluid), pansexual, and polyamorous. These are pieces of my identity that our society as a whole looks down upon; people in the majority sometimes view me as a second-class citizen, immoral, or less than human. 

As a Queer NeuroDivergent Person, I spent the first twenty-nine years of my life trying to fit in, camouflaging my true self to avoid rejection, abuse, bullying, harassment, and discrimination.

For most of my life I thought bravery meant hiding all your weaknesses, struggles, and pain, keeping all your worries to yourself, and never needing anyone else. However, I was wrong.

I am fine with accepting new information as I learn and grow (though I sometimes need more time than a non-autistic human to adjust to new information and changes). 

When my view changes (because of new understanding and information), I am not ashamed to admit that my previous self came from a less informed place. 

Side note (personal opinion): People who CAN admit when they were previously wrong and are capable of growth and learning are sexy (and something I am very attracted to in both my friendships and romantic relationships). Anyone agree? 

… and now “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy” is stuck in my head for some reason. Make it stop. 

My previous stance that vulnerability is “a weakness” was wrong. 

In recent years, I’ve realized that being vulnerable is brave. Vulnerability is not a weakness. It is a strength. 

I was born and raised in Texas. In Texas, we have a saying, “Texas tough.”

I was raised to believe that vulnerability was a weakness.

Even as a young child, if I would fall down and skin my knees or hurt myself, I would be encouraged “not to cry” and instead to “fall down and get back up again” so as not to inconvenience the adults around me with my tears. 

I was encouraged to hide my feelings and emotions if they made other people uncomfortable.

I was also encouraged to blend in and camouflage myself to resemble people with more “average” brains and conform to societal norms (an impossible goal for me). 

My Queerness was invisible, but my Autism and ADHD were not. 

My NeuroDivergence was on display and could be seen in the ways that I moved, spoke, and engaged with the world around me.

When I was younger, especially before middle school, when people saw me, they knew there was “something different” about me, even if they didn’t know what it was. 

This has been an excerpt from a longer Substack post.

The rest of this post is available on Substack.

I’m creating a new community on Substack, and I hope you’ll join me as a free member (but I also have paid subscriptions that start at only $5/month – less if you subscribe annually if you want access to bonus content).

FREE subscribers on Substack get content, too! Everyone gets something (because I believe education should be accessible).

Substack offers free one-week trial on paid subscriptions. If it’s not for you, you can cancel at any time with no obligation.

The NeuroDivergent Rebel Blog is a reader-supported publication. Without the help of my readers, free resources LIKE THIS ONE wouldn’t be possible.

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It would mean a lot to me,

– Lyric