Nature and neurodivergence

Being neurodivergent. I see the world in a very different way to other people. The world is not designed for me. Everyday tasks like going to the shop or asking to borrow a pen can cause anxiety. I notice every sound or flickering light, every colour and every tiny touch. An autistic stereotype is that we lack empathy, but I’m the opposite. I feel other peoples’ emotions as if they are my own. It’s overwhelming, but it can be amazing too.   

When I hear a blackbird singing its song from the treetops, or feel the crunching of autumn leaves underfoot, it's not overwhelming, it’s magical. I feel like Goldilocks – the sounds, the smells, the textures, all just right. 

I have always known that my love of nature was more than just an interest or something I liked, but I couldn’t quite understand how. I know now that this love stems largely from being autistic, and that the peace I get from being outside or with animals is an inherent part of me and how I navigate the world. It’s what my brain can comprehend when all energy has run out and everything else has turned to fog. When I notice the details in a blossom or feather or hear the first cuckoo of spring, I feel a spark of excitement in my fingers. Even a robin or a daisy that I have seen a hundred times can take me away from everything else that is too much. 

I also love the elements, anything that makes me feel wild. This is why I love Scotland. The combination of senses when you’re at the top of a cliff or mountain, in heavy rain and strong winds – all overstimulating but in the best possible way. It feels like a bubble of protection blocking out everything else. All the racing thoughts and anxieties that normally threaten to overwhelm me are slowed down and pushed away and, just for a while, I feel completely like me.   

In nature we celebrate differences. Without them, ecosystems would collapse, evolution couldn’t happen, and humans probably wouldn’t exist. Most people wouldn’t notice the difference between two oak leaves or the bark of two trees, but I do. While others walk quickly by, nature is the one place where I can slow down.  

Growing up, I didn’t realise I was different or that no-one else heard the same things I did or experienced things in the same way. I figured they were all just getting on with it, so I did too.Everyone puts on a front sometimes, right? And yes, to an extent they do, but not to the extent that they come home every day exhausted, unable to recognise their true personality from the one they have built around themselves. I was putting on a front and most of the time, I didn’t even realise I was doing it.  

Since being diagnosed, however, I have learned so much. I have learned how to understand myself and I have learned not to care so much about what others think. I want to show the world how much neurodivergent people have to offer, if only we had a little compassion and understanding. You can’t put us all in one box. We are all completely different, in our struggles and in our strengths. 

The awareness of neurodivergence is growing, but there is still a very long way to go. There are countless studies demonstrating the benefits of nature for people, but they also lay out all the challenges that prevent many families from establishing that connection with nature. My goal is to be able to connect people to nature and, if I could find a way to do that through music, combining my special interests of wildlife and music, that would be my dream. I want to help make nature a more accessible place for everyone, and I think that begins with understanding. Nature has been there for me whenever I needed it so if I can protect nature and help others to find that connection, then that’s what I want to do.  It’s important – for me and for all the others, whether neurodivergent or not, growing up in a world not made for them.