WHAT I WISH YOU KNEW: A Neurodivergent Teen’s Guide to Identity, Belonging & Self-Esteem (Part 2)
- Lana Jelenjev
- May 15
- 5 min read
You can read Part 1 here.
4. Make It Safe for Me to Take Off the Mask
“Sometimes I hide who I am to stay safe. Don’t rush me, but don’t ignore it either.”
Masking keeps me safe. It helps me avoid being teased, corrected, judged, or stared at. But it also drains me. It makes me feel fake. Tired. Sometimes, invisible.
If I begin to unmask around you, it means I trust you. Please honor that.
What this might sound like, look like, or feel like:
I might stim freely in front of you—rocking, tapping, humming—without apologizing
I might stop saying “I’m fine” and finally admit, “I’m overwhelmed.”
I might cry, pace, or go quiet—because unmasking is vulnerable
I might still mask in public but slowly unmask at home
I might test the waters by being “too much” on purpose—just to see if I’m still safe
What I need:
Gentle permission to be my full self without pressure
Spaces that don’t require constant performance
People who don’t flinch when I’m dysregulated, quiet, quirky, or different
How to support me when resistance shows up:
If I say “I can’t take off the mask” or “No one would like the real me,” please don’t force me out of it.
Try:
“You don’t owe anyone your unfiltered self. But you deserve spaces where you don’t have to filter so much.”“Let’s notice where it feels safest to start.”
If I start unmasking and then panic—don’t tease me or tell me I was brave. Just stay close. Let it be quiet and safe again.
What’s Happening Beneath the Surface
Masking activates the threat response system in the brain. When I’m masking, I’m in fawn or freeze mode—reading cues, adjusting myself, shrinking to stay safe.
Over time, this creates nervous system exhaustion. It can lead to burnout, identity confusion, even trauma.
But when I unmask in the presence of someone safe, my ventral vagus nerve (the “social safety” system) lights up. I move out of survival mode and into connection. My brain learns, “I’m safe as I am.”
Unmasking isn’t dramatic. It’s deeply physiological. And it takes time.
5. Help Me Find People Who Get Me
“I want to belong, not just fit in.”
I’m tired of being the only one. The only person in the group chat who doesn’t get the joke. The only one in the classroom who needs extra time or sensory breaks. The only one pretending.
I want friends I don’t have to explain myself to every five minutes. People who just get it.
What this might sound like, look like, or feel like:
I might say, “I feel left out all the time—even when I’m technically included.”
I might stop trying to socialize if it always means masking
I might spend more time online with neurodivergent creators or fan communities
I might get tearful or shut down after social situations where I felt unseen
I might withdraw—not because I don’t want connection, but because I crave real belonging
What I need:
Help exploring spaces (online or in person) where difference is normal
Encouragement to connect with other neurodivergent teens or interest-based communities
Validation that I’m not “too much” or “too weird”—I just haven’t found my people yet
How to support me when resistance shows up:
If I say, “No one will ever get me” or “I don’t need anyone,” please don’t argue.
Instead, try:
“It’s okay to feel done with trying. And I still believe your people are out there.”“What kind of person would feel safe to be around?”
Don’t rush me into group settings or parties. Let’s build connection slowly, around shared understanding, not performance.
What’s Happening Beneath the Surface
Our brains are built for belonging. When I feel disconnected, my anterior cingulate cortex lights up—the same brain area involved in physical pain.
If I experience repeated exclusion or subtle rejection, it wires into my system as chronic social threat. That leads to withdrawal, hypervigilance, and distrust—even when people do care.
But when I find even one relationship where I feel seen as I am, my brain and body relax. My oxytocin levels rise.I enter a state where I can regulate, relate, and rest.
Real belonging heals nervous system wounds. Please help me find it.
6. Help Me Feel Safe in My Body and Mind
“Before I can talk, share, or learn—I need to feel okay.”
If I’m spiraling, shutting down, or zoning out—I’m not being dramatic. I’m not trying to cause trouble. My nervous system is protecting me.
I want to be present. I want to learn. But first—I need to feel safe in my body.
What this might sound like, look like, or feel like:
I might say, “I can’t think straight,” or “I just need a minute.”
I might stim, rock, shake my hands, or cover my ears
I might go nonverbal or use one-word answers
I might lie on the floor, retreat into a corner, or avoid eye contact
I might need to breathe, bounce, or cry—before I can even start talking
What I need:
Tools that support emotional regulation (movement, music, deep pressure, silence)
Permission to step away without being scolded
Co-regulation: someone nearby who breathes slowly, speaks gently, and doesn’t panic when I do
How to support me when resistance shows up:
If I say “Leave me alone” or “I’m fine,” when I clearly am not—don’t force it.But don’t disappear, either.
Stay nearby. Offer quiet support like:
“I’ll be right here. Take the time you need.”“We can figure this out once your body feels safer.”
Let your presence say: “You don’t have to hold this alone.”
What’s Happening Beneath the Surface
When I’m dysregulated, I’m in a survival state—my amygdala (the brain’s alarm system) takes over. This shuts down access to the prefrontal cortex, the part of my brain that helps me reflect, reason, or communicate clearly.
If you demand logic, answers, or behavior control in that moment, I’ll sink deeper into fight, flight, freeze, or fawn.
But when you help me regulate—through safety, attunement, and presence—my brain shifts into connection mode. My body settles. My thoughts return. Only then can I meet you in learning, repair, or reflection.
Regulation isn’t a detour from connection. It’s the gateway to it.
CHECK OUT OUR FREE RESOURCE:
Download your copy of WHAT I WISH YOU KNEW: A Neurodivergent Teen’s Guide to Identity, Belonging, and Self-Esteem
A neurodivergent teen’s invitation to be seen, heard, and held with care.
This poster series gives voice to what many neurodivergent teens feel but rarely get to say out loud. Each one is a window into their inner world—a mix of insight, emotion, and everyday truth.
Created as part of the Beyond the Labels project, these posters share 9 powerful “lamp posts” that support identity, belonging, and self-esteem. They include what neurodivergent teens may sound like, look like, or feel like in each moment—plus what they need, how to hold space during resistance, and why it matters neurologically.
Use these in classrooms, therapy spaces, hallways, homes, or wherever teens show up—especially when they’re quiet, misunderstood, or trying to stay safe.
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