When Being Visible Feels Unsafe - Neurodivergent Women's Healing Sessions

A Lesson in Resilience from One Unexpected Comment

Yesterday, I shared a post about something very close to my heart—an offering of support for neurodivergent women and parents who are burned out, overwhelmed, and looking for a sensory-safe space to simply be.

It was one of those rare moments where I felt grounded, aligned, and—dare I say—safe to be seen.

Then I received a comment:

“Stop messing neurodiversity with 'respond to trauma'!!!”

It threw me.

Not because it was correct (it wasn’t), but because it landed like a punch in the gut. All at once, my nervous system was flooded:You’ve done something wrong. You’re not qualified. You shouldn’t be putting yourself out there.

That old fear—of not being good enough, of being misunderstood, of being unsafe in my visibility—came rushing back.

Why Would Someone Do That?

This is the part I struggle with most. As someone with AUDHD, my brain constantly tries to make sense of things—especially things that feel unfair or emotionally jarring. I kept asking myself:Why me? Why this post? Why say anything at all?

Here’s what I’ve come to:

Some people project their own pain when they see others offering something they never had.

Some people misread or misunderstand—and react quickly and harshly online.

Some people have rigid, black-and-white thinking that doesn't allow for nuance or softness.

And sometimes, people are just unkind, impulsively, without any thought to who they might be hurting.

None of those explanations make it okay. But they do help me not carry the weight of their reaction as my fault.

My Response, My Boundaries

At first, I wanted to fire back. I was angry and hurt. But I took a breath and replied calmly:

“Thanks for your comment – I completely agree that neurodivergence isn’t something to be fixed or linked to trauma. What I offer supports the burnout and overwhelm that often come from living in a world that doesn’t accommodate neurodivergent needs. It’s about rest, not repair.”

I later chose to delete and block them—not out of spite, but out of care. For myself, and for the people I’m trying to support. My nervous system matters. My work matters. My safety matters.

Why I’m Still Showing Up

This experience reminded me that the fear of being visible is real—and often, it’s not just fear of judgment. It’s fear of retraumatisation. And when you’ve worked so hard to heal, to show up as your full self, that fear runs deep.

But it also reminded me of something more powerful:

✨ I am allowed to take up space. ✨ I am allowed to offer gentleness in a world that often doesn’t. ✨ I am allowed to protect what I’ve built and keep going anyway.

If you’ve ever felt attacked for simply being yourself or trying to help in your own way—please know, you’re not alone. It takes strength to stay soft in a world that can be sharp.

We don’t keep showing up because we’re unshaken.We show up because we’ve learned how to come back to ourselves.

With gentleness, Chonti x

If this resonated with you, feel free to share or reach out. My sanctuary is open to those who are tired of masking, carrying too much, or feeling like they never quite fit.You are safe here. You are enough.

When Being Visible Feels Unsafe