Harnessing My Unicorn—Neurodivergence and the Journey to Authenticity
In her groundbreaking book, 9 Leader Touchstones, Dr. Jes DeShields shares a story about a time during a Leader-First® Leadership Summit when a participant said, “Authenticity is about as easy as chasing a damn unicorn!” When defining the Authenticity Touchstone, Jes expands on Brené Brown’s definition of Authenticity: “the daily practice of letting go of who you think you’re supposed to be and embracing who you are.” Jes explains that daily practice only brings you closer to Authenticity when you “embrace who you are by interpreting and owning your life experiences.” She calls these transformational experiences Crescendos—both the good and the bad experiences across your lifetime—that reflect your true self. Embracing Crescendos means walking through fear and the unknown. When you seek a deeper understanding of your stories, experiences, and Crescendo moments, you move one step closer to Authenticity.
In today’s world of social media, disinformation, and distraction, living authentically can feel challenging. Authenticity means “real, not imitation.” Social platforms like Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok often showcase curated versions of our “best” lives, rarely reflecting our authentic ones. Embracing Authenticity also means embracing our differences and valuing them.
These days, many organizations have withdrawn from DEI strategies due to their politicization. Jes defines Diversity as including race, ethnicity, gender, age, disability status, sexual orientation, socioeconomic background, veteran status, and cultural perspectives. I would like to highlight one often-overlooked dimension—neurodiversity.
According to the World Economic Forum and Spring Health, neurodiversity reflects the natural variation in how people think, process information, and experience the world. An estimated 1 in 5 adults in America is neurodivergent. Globally, 15-20% of the population exhibits some form of neurodivergence. Neurodivergent people experience the world in non-typical ways across a continuum of thought, behavior, communication, and sensory processing.
Here’s a helpful breakdown of the terminology (from Spring Health):
Neurodivergent individuals think, learn, or process information in ways that differ from what society considers typical.
Neurotypical individuals process information in ways aligned with societal norms.
Neurodiverse describes a group that includes both neurotypical and neurodivergent individuals.
Many people associate neurodivergence solely with Autism or ADHD. But it also includes:
Dyslexia and other learning differences: Dyslexia is a common learning disorder that affects a person’s ability to read, spell, and decode language. It stems from differences in areas of the brain that process language (Mayo Clinic).
Auditory processing differences: These refer to challenges in how the brain interprets sounds, particularly speech. Individuals with Auditory Processing Disorder (APD) often struggle to comprehend spoken language in noisy environments (National Institute on Deafness and Other Communication Disorders).
Tourette's Syndrome: A neurological disorder characterized by repetitive, involuntary movements and vocalizations called tics. These tics can range from mild to severe (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention).
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD): A mental health condition where people experience persistent, intrusive thoughts (obsessions) and engage in repetitive behaviors (compulsions) to relieve anxiety. It is increasingly recognized within the neurodivergent spectrum (National Institute of Mental Health).
Highly Sensitive Person (HSP): Individuals with HSPs exhibit heightened sensitivity to external stimuli, emotional cues, and sensory input. They often experience deep processing of emotions and can feel overwhelmed in stimulating environments. Psychologist Dr. Elaine Aron popularized the concept in the 1990s.
Neurodivergent individuals bring unique strengths to the workplace, but many remain excluded. These strengths include pattern recognition, intense focus, creativity, innovative problem-solving, and systems-level thinking. Some excel in roles requiring precision, deep concentration, or unconventional thinking. Others offer emotional sensitivity, empathy, or strong social awareness. Inclusive teams that leverage the strengths of neurodivergent individuals gain adaptability, creativity, and better outcomes. Yet, many organizations overlook this talent or push conformity to neurotypical standards. While neurodivergence isn’t a mental health issue, it often correlates with increased mental health challenges—typically caused by lack of support, limited understanding, and the chronic stress of masking or trying to conform.
Exploring My Story
For those unfamiliar with my background, I’m a first-generation Indian American born and raised in a small town near Charlotte, North Carolina. My parents came to the United States as a married couple in 1976 and will celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary this year. Their hard work and sacrifice allowed my brother and me to grow up in a privileged home where education always came first. I was the only Indian girl in my class. I excelled academically, consistently raised my hand, and actively participated in sports and extracurricular activities. Perfection became expected. Overachievement became ideal. Failure wasn’t an option.
In middle school, I joined an Indian cultural dance group and met girls my age who shared my heritage. That connection rooted me deeply. By high school, I co-captained the varsity tennis team, played varsity basketball, and founded our school newspaper. I graduated as co-valedictorian and earned scholarships to attend the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. After earning dual bachelor’s degrees in biology and economics, I pursued a Master of Health Administration (MHA) at Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond.
So, how does my origin story connect to neurodivergence and Authenticity? When I reflect on that time, I see the start of my first Crescendo unfolding.
My First Crescendo—Depression, Diagnosis, and Disruption
In the fall of 2009, at the age of 23, I entered my second year of the MHA program. For the first time, I lived away from my core support system. I balanced full-time study, a part-time internship, and administrative residency applications. The weight of those responsibilities quickly became overwhelming. The kids these days would say I was having a tough time adulting.
I started having trouble sleeping and would wake up feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders and a tightness in my chest. I avoided going to work or class, making excuses by saying I was sick with the flu or a stomach bug, when in reality, there was nothing physically wrong with me except for the feeling of being sick to my stomach with dread. The only thing that would make me feel better was to avoid responsibilities and commitments by using coping mechanisms such as binge-watching TV shows or ordering takeout to stuff myself until I was too full. I hid these behaviors from my family and friends as these episodes became increasingly frequent, and by mid-November, it got to the point where I woke up one day shaking with fear, and I could not leave my bed. The thought of leaving my apartment drove me into a full-on panic attack.
Around this time, I found the courage to call my older brother, a physician specializing in Internal Medicine. As I described the symptoms I'd experienced, I broke down sobbing. He comforted me and explained that I was showing some classic signs of depression and anxiety. He let my parents know what was happening, and they brought me home. My primary care physician officially diagnosed me with depression and anxiety and prescribed antidepressants.
After the Thanksgiving holiday, my parents and I returned to Richmond, where we met with my MHA program director and explained my mental health situation. Despite the number of absences, she graciously allowed me to make up missed assignments and take final exams. She gave me a second chance, warning me that if absenteeism were to occur again in my final semester of coursework, I would need to repeat my second year of the program and postpone my administrative residency. My father stayed with me in Richmond for the next few weeks as I took my final exams and made it through the end of the semester.
During the holiday break, I had a follow-up appointment with my doctor and informed her that the medicine seemed to be working. My holidays were uneventful, but then the new year brought a semester of renewed pressure. Three weeks passed, and I started experiencing manic episodes where I would stay up all night with racing thoughts in my head. I was on my own again, and I began skipping a class here or there, with the exact coping mechanisms and behaviors taking control.
By mid-March, I had missed five classes. My program director called me into her office and gently told me I would need to take a medical leave and repeat the semester in 2011. I felt gutted. I walked out, holding back tears—until I saw my father, who had come with me. Looking into his eyes, I saw something I had never seen before. He was crying. Sadness, fear, disappointment—it was all there. And at that moment, my sense of failure felt unbearable.
Reprogramming Identity and Embracing Neurodivergence
Back at home, I called my doctor to update her on what had happened at school. She referred me to a psychiatrist. In April 2010, I received a new diagnosis: bipolar II disorder. I started medication—a mood stabilizer and anti-anxiety treatment—and began the long journey of chronic disease management. Over the years, I also engaged in cognitive behavioral therapy, which helped me understand and manage my symptoms. During my most recent therapy sessions, I have learned that I was exhibiting demand avoidance and executive dysfunction, characteristics of disorders such as ADHD and autism.
Likely, I received a misdiagnosis early on when there was less understanding of neurodivergence. Interpreting those early experiences through a neurodivergent lens was crucial in helping me move closer to my most authentic self. That singular shift enabled me to deprogram the shame and perfectionism I once internalized and reprogram my narrative to center courage over conformity. I now see my traits—once misunderstood as instability or weakness—as expressions of my unique neurodivergent mind. They aren't flaws. They are my unicorn.
Sharing My Authenticity with You
This article marks the first time I have publicly shared this part of my identity. That decision alone feels like another Crescendo. I feared judgment for years. But as Jes writes in 9 Leader Touchstones, "Your stories are the key to unlocking your Authenticity—your most unique, valuable self."
If parts of your story remain hidden, I invite you to name and explore your Crescendos. What pressure has revealed a truth you've avoided? What story holds the key to your Authenticity? Embracing your Authenticity isn't a foregone conclusion. It requires courageous exploration and practice. There is no limit to what you can do when you summon your courage to harness the unicorn.
