The Longing for Deeper Connection: A Common Thread in Neurodivergent Experience

One theme that arises again and again in my work with neurodivergent clients is the quiet — and sometimes aching — longing for deeper connection.

It’s a kind of longing that’s often hard to explain, especially when past experiences of closeness have felt confusing, disappointing, or out of reach.

Connection That Feels Just Out of Reach

For many neurodivergent people — whether autistic, ADHD, or simply not aligned with the social “norm” — connection isn’t absent, but it often feels mismatched.

The desire is strong, even urgent at times, but it doesn’t always find a landing place. There’s often a history of relationships that felt unsatisfying or out of sync:

• Conversations that stayed on the surface

• Friendships that faded without warning

• Moments of emotional vulnerability that weren’t met with care

These experiences can lead to an internalised question: Is it me?

And too often, the answer becomes: Maybe I’m just not built for this.

The Pain of Being Misunderstood

In a world shaped around certain ways of connecting, neurodivergent styles of relating can be misunderstood.

Someone who needs time to process before responding might be seen as disengaged.
A person who connects deeply over a specific interest might be told they’re “too intense.”
A preference for honesty and depth over small talk might be interpreted as awkwardness.

Over time, this pattern of misattunement can lead to masking, self-doubt, or loneliness — not because the longing for connection isn’t there, but because it hasn’t been met with the kind of reciprocity and understanding it needs.

What Therapy Can Offer

In therapy, we begin to make space for that longing.

We explore the ways connection has felt painful or unsteady, the moments where closeness was wanted but missing. We also begin to notice — gently, and without judgment — the parts of a person’s relational style that are rich, intuitive, and deeply human.

We imagine something different. Not perfect, but possible.
And crucially, we begin to unpick the idea that connection has to look a certain way to be valid.

Honouring a Different Way of Relating

What I see in my clients is not a lack of capacity for connection — it’s a deep presence, a desire to be seen in full. There’s often a quiet brilliance in how neurodivergent people relate when they feel safe: thoughtful, emotionally attuned, and deeply sincere.

The work, then, is not about changing how someone connects, but finding spaces — relationships, communities, inner frameworks — where that way of connecting can truly land.