NLD and The Process of Letting Go, Forgiving, and Moving Forward
I’m still working through some personal challenges, but lately, I’ve noticed progress—especially with my migraine condition. I started Botox treatments last week, and they’ve already made a real difference. For the first time in a long while, the migraines feel tolerable. That might not sound like much, but for me, it’s huge. Even though I still get them daily, the pain isn’t as overwhelming, which means I can manage my workload better and get through the day with more ease.
That improvement has given me space to reflect on today’s theme: the process of letting go, forgiving, and moving forward. This is something that applies to everyone—whether you’re neurotypical, neurodivergent, or living with a learning challenge like NLD.
The Weight of the Past
Have you ever tried to let go of something painful from your past? Maybe you thought you could forget, only to realize that forgetting isn’t possible—you can only move forward at your own pace.
For me, letting go has been complicated. My life has included experiences of sexual abuse, family conflict after disclosing that abuse, my first romantic relationship and its ending, intense homesickness during college, a struggle with bulimia, and even being scammed by a con artist during COVID. I don’t share this list so that anyone will feel sorry for me. I share it so that if you’ve experienced something similar, you’ll know you’re not alone.
Hardship isn’t limited to neurodivergent people—pain happens to everyone. But as someone with NLD, these experiences often felt harder to process. Sometimes, being the only openly neurodivergent person in my family has made me feel isolated, even though my family is supportive. My father was adopted, so I’ll never know for sure where the NLD comes from, though I suspect his side of the family.
I want to acknowledge something important here: reading about or listening to discussions of trauma can be triggering. If at any point you feel overwhelmed, permit yourself to pause, come back later, or skip ahead. Healing works best when we honor our own timing.
Building Coping Skills
It took me seven years of therapy to develop the coping skills I now use to heal from the abuse, the family drama, the breakup, and the con artist experience. Even now, I’m still in therapy. Healing isn’t a finished project—it’s an ongoing process.
I know I’ll never forget these experiences. But I can choose how I carry them. Letting go is not about erasing the past; it’s about loosening its grip. To me, letting go feels like a dimmer switch—you can’t flip it on or off instantly. You turn it slowly, at your own pace.
We don’t always have control over what happens to us, but we do have control over how we respond and how we move forward.
One quote that helps me when I feel like giving up is by Lana Rafael:
“I think it's brave that you get up in the morning even if your soul is weary and your bones ache for a rest. I think it's brave that you keep on living even if you don't know how to anymore. I think it's brave that you push away the waves rolling in every day, and you decide to fight yet again. I know there are days when you feel like giving up, but I think it's brave that you never do.”
I carry those words with me.
Learning from Others
Part of my healing has also come from reading the words of other neurodivergent writers and thinkers. Their perspectives remind me that my struggles aren’t unique and that letting go is part of growth.
Letting Go as Growth
In an article titled “Letting Go Is Difficult but Allows Us to Grow” (2021), Martina Musis wrote about how hard it is to release control. They explained that letting go means reframing our perspective, loosening the grip on plans, and asking ourselves: what’s the worst that can happen if things don’t go perfectly?
That resonated with me. Like Martina, I’ve had to learn to change the way I talk to myself. For years, I criticized myself harshly, especially around vocabulary and comprehension. I used to pause TV shows constantly to ask my mom what a word meant. Eventually, I realized I could figure out many words in context on my own. That shift—believing I could improve—was part of learning to let go of negative self-talk.
Failed Relationships
Another article, “Failed Relationships and Neurodivergence” by Christie Forbes (2021), struck a deep chord. Christie wrote about how neurodivergent people often replay failed friendships and relationships in their heads, over-analyzing every interaction. I related to that immediately.
Christie’s reminder to practice radical acceptance—acknowledging what is instead of endlessly wondering what went wrong—was powerful. I’ve had friendships end abruptly, both with neurotypicals and neurodivergents. Ghosting, in particular, has happened to me many times. It’s painful, and like Christie, I’ve had to learn to sit with those feelings instead of assuming every failed connection was my fault.
Reasons to Love a Neurodivergent
The last article I want to share is by Dr. Kathy McKinnon from Couples Therapy Inc. (2020), titled “Neurodivergence and Love: Five Good Reasons to Embrace Neurodiversity.” She listed five truths about loving someone who is neurodivergent:
They’ll tell you the truth—even the blunt truth.
If you’re kind, they won’t cheat on you.
There are no hidden motives—what you see is what you get.
They’ll understand your need to be alone.
They make excellent friends when you share interests.
As a neurodivergent person, I can confirm these ring true. I value kindness deeply because neurodivergent people often experience bullying. I also understand the importance of alone time, not because I don’t care, but because I need it myself. And when I find someone who shares my interests, I can talk for hours with genuine excitement.
Moving Forward
Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It means carrying the past more lightly—acknowledging its weight but not letting it define your every step.
I share my story not because I have all the answers, but because I live with these questions every day. If you’re struggling with letting go, know that it’s okay to move at your own pace. Healing is not a race.
A Reflection for You
I’d like to leave you with a small exercise:
Take a few minutes to journal about your own differences and gifts.
Ask yourself: Is there a way to make one of those differences easier to live with?
Remember: what feels heavy now may become lighter with time, patience, and practice.
And if you know individuals with NLD who would be open to sharing their experiences, I’d love to hear from you. You can email me at livingwithNLD@gmail.com.
Together, by sharing our stories, we remind each other that none of us is alone.
