“And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.” — Ephesians 4:32 (NKJV)

Some days, the hardest thing to do is just… show up.

Not because I don’t want to be there. Not because I don’t care. But because I know there’s a good chance someone is going to side-eye me for not being what they expect. For not being “normal.”

They might not say it out loud. But sometimes they do.

“Why are you so intense?”

“You think too much.”

“Why can’t you just let it go?”

Translation: You’re not like us. You’re trouble. You’re different. And different makes us uncomfortable. 

The older I get, the more I see it. The subtle ways my neurodivergence gets called out—not directly, but in all the little digs, the jokes that aren’t funny, the awkward silences, the polite-but-patronizing nods.

And let me be honest: I used to hold it against people. I’d get tight in my chest. Feel that slow burn of, “They don’t see me. They don’t get it.”

But then Mike Teezy’s song “Forgive ’em” came through my headphones one morning, and it hit me in the gut:

 “They do not know what they doin’.”

That line? It’s scripture and it’s street. It’s what Jesus said hanging on the cross. It’s also what I whisper to myself on days when the weight of stigma feels personal.

It reminds me of Ephesians 4:32—a call to live tenderhearted even when the world can feel pretty hard. A reminder that forgiveness isn’t just for the people who say sorry. It’s for the ones who never even see the harm they cause.

The Stigma Is Real. And It Hurts.

Let’s name it: Neurodivergent folks—people with ADHD, autism, brains that process things differently—we get labeled. Misunderstood. Talked over.

Our fidgeting is “disruptive.”

Our focus is “scattered.”

Our directness is “rude.”

Our need for clarity is “too much.”

And yet, these are the ways our brains move through the world. Not broken. Not wrong. Just… wired differently. But because it doesn’t fit the mold, we get called out. Or worse, left out.

I’ve been there. Maybe you have too.

But Here’s the Twist: Forgiveness Frees Us First.

I don’t forgive because I’m okay with the way I’ve been treated. I forgive because I refuse to carry bitterness that doesn’t belong to me. Because holding on to offense, even the justified kind, clutters up the space in my spirit where peace could live.

Forgiveness is not pretending the hurt didn’t happen. It’s choosing not to be defined by it. And it’s hard. Let’s not pretend otherwise. Sometimes I have to pray it out loud:

 “Lord, help me forgive the ones who just don’t get it. The ones who stare, or sigh, or judge what they don’t understand. Remind me that they are Yours too. That You died for them just like You died for me.”

A Word to My Fellow Neurodivergents:

You are not too much.

You are not a problem to be solved or a project to be fixed.

You are seen. You are designed on purpose. You are valuable—exactly as you are.

So let them call you out for not being normal. Call it what it is: a lack of understanding, not a lack in you.

Then… forgive ’em.

Not because they deserve it. But because you do.

Because you deserve peace.

Because you deserve to walk free.

Because you’re learning to love yourself the way God already does.

Peace 🙏🏿

Copyright © 2025 by Edna Brown. All Rights Reserved.