If you’re someone who’s both neurodivergent and queer, you’re not alone. In fact, it’s pretty common.
As a therapist and coach who works with millennials navigating ADHD, neurodivergence, identity stuff, and just plain life, my therapy space reflects what the research points to: there’s a sizable overlap between queerness and neurodivergence. The lived experiences of so many neurodivergent folks tell us this overlap is real even without the data. You’ve probably noticed it too: in your friends, your chosen family, the corners of the internet that feel like home.
So what’s up with this overlap, and what insights can we glean from it?
If you're someone who identifies as both neurodivergent and queer, you're not alone. Robust research underscoring the strengths and joys of queer neurodivergent people is lacking, in part because of the systemic discrimination and stigma that surrounds neurodivergence and queerness as a whole. However, recent research highlights a significant overlap between these identities, shedding light on peoples’ unique experiences and challenges at this intersection.
One systematic review examined 17 studies published since 2014, revealing a higher prevalence of ADHD among transgender and gender-diverse (TGD) individuals. However, the literature often frames ADHD from a deficit or negative perspective and lacks input from actual TGD individuals with ADHD. The authors advocate for a "neuroqueer" framework, which aligns with the social model of disability. They suggest that societal structures, rather than individual conditions, are disabling.
Another study about autism and sexuality explored the experiences of LGBTQ+ people on the autism spectrum. Participants reported that their dual identities often led to compounded discrimination and isolation. They emphasized the need for greater understanding and support, as societal biases frequently question their capacity for self-awareness around gender and sexual identities.
These studies underscore the importance of recognizing and validating the experiences of neurodivergent queer individuals. Neurodivergent people face enough societal biases and challenges. They deserve support, advocacy, and inclusive practices that honor their identities.
Here's my take: when your brain already doesn't play by society's rules, it becomes much easier to question all the other crap we're told is normal.
If you're autistic, have ADHD, or both, you've probably spent most of your life feeling like you don't quite fit. You've likely masked to try to pass as neurotypical, only to end up burned out and resentful. Maybe you've felt like you're too much or not enough in some invisible, aching way. Maybe you've wondered why everyone seems to just get how to be a person, and you're over here reading 12 Reddit threads on how to send an email without sounding weird.
That same experience of living outside the default applies to gender and sexuality.
The way I see it, when you already know the default setting doesn't work for you – when the mainstream has never made you feel fully seen or understood – it makes sense that you’d ask, what else have I been taught that isn't true for me?
So why not question the whole heteronormative, cisnormative, gender-binary mess, too?
Let's zoom in on ADHD for a minute. One of the hallmark traits of ADHD is intensity. You might have big emotions, intense interests, deep empathy, a low tolerance for boredom, and a need for novelty. That can show up in your relationship to sexuality and gender in a few ways.
Some folks with ADHD find that they explore their sexual orientation or gender identity more fluidly or openly than their neurotypical peers. Others might have known something about their identity for a long time but struggled to sit with it, process it, or articulate it, because hello, executive dysfunction.
Also, ADHD can make social norms feel extra grating. Your brain already bucks against rigid structures and boring expectations. It follows that you’d question the idea that there are only two genders, or that your worth is tied to being in a straight, monogamous, heteronormative relationship.
Then there’s the shame piece. ADHD folks are so used to being told they're too much, distracted, impulsive, emotional. Queer folks get that same shame heaped onto them from the external world. When you’re neuroqueer, the sense of shame and unbelonging compounds. So if you feel like you're carrying a double dose of "what's wrong with me?" you're not imagining it. And there's nothing wrong with you. You just live in a world whose capitalistic, norm-driven values don’t often align with your authentic self. You have to work to build that world with yourself and your community.
Autism and sexuality is another place where the neurodivergent experience overlaps with queerness in some fascinating, real, and beautiful ways.
Many autistic people experience their gender or sexuality in ways that don't line up with society's expectations. That might look like being nonbinary, asexual, pansexual, genderfluid, you name it. It also might mean not fitting neatly into any label at all, which is also totally valid.
Autistic folks often have a different relationship to social norms and expectations. That includes ideas about gender roles, relationship scripts, and sexual behavior. If you're autistic, you might be less influenced by societal expectations, or just more likely to say, "that makes no damn sense, so I'm not doing it."
Sensory sensitivity or sensory seeking can also deeply influence how someone relates to physical touch, sex, intimacy, and even gender presentation. Certain clothes might feel wrong on your body. Maybe you hate being touched in ways people assume are "normal" during intimacy. Maybe you need specific sensory input to feel grounded and connected. All of that shapes your relationships and how you move through the world.
And again, there's the double stigma. Both ADHDers and autistic folks are often desexualized or oversexualized in gross and harmful ways. Queer people face their own pile of stereotypes and shame. If you're both, that can create a sense of being invisible and misunderstood all at once.
Let's get one thing straight (pun intended): there's nothing wrong with you for being neurodivergent. There's nothing wrong with you for being queer. And there's definitely nothing wrong with being both.
But it can feel lonely and confusing as hell, especially if you've grown up surrounded by messages that say you should be following a certain life script that doesn’t feel authentic to you.
Maybe you've asked yourself:
Whether you're just starting to explore your identity or you've known who you are for years but still struggle with shame or imposter syndrome, you deserve support. Forming community with other queer, neurodivergent people is key to feeling a sense of belonging, safety, and family. One-on-one support can also be a helpful tool to coping with the challenges of your lived experiences.
In my work with clients, we untangle all the internalized messages about what it means to be "too much," "not enough," or "confusing." We explore the relationship to gender and sexuality without judgment. We work on boundaries, relationships, burnout, masking, people-pleasing, executive dysfunction – all of it.
If you’re curious about working together, get in touch to set up a free consultation. Either way, I want you to know you can live a life that actually fits you. Not one that fits some made-up idea of what a “normal” person should be. So keep questioning the rules. Keep seeking what feels right. You’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re just not on the default setting, and that’s something to be proud of.
Danielle is an anxiety therapist and perfectionism coach. She specializes in helping busy millennials dial down their anxiety and ADHD, so they can perform at their best. Danielle has been featured on Apartment Therapy, SparkPeople, Lifewire, and Now Art World. When Danielle isn't helping her clients, she's playing video games or spending time with her partner and step children.