Acceptance

At some point, we ask ourselves, “What is wrong with me?”

Some of us grow up feeling like we don’t belong on Earth. Like we’re aliens. In a way, maybe we are. The spiritual side of the internet calls us “starseeds,” which is honestly a beautiful word for… neurodivergent.

We didn’t come here with an internal manual on how to be human. We learned by observing, studying human behavior, analyzing interactions, and eventually building our own libraries of patterns, archived somewhere deep in our brains.

We put on masks to fit in. We practiced social interactions, facial expressions, reactions. People rarely got to see the real us because we showed them personas we unconsciously created instead. In a way, we lived many different lives within one lifetime through those personas. We attracted many kinds of people, many different experiences… endless opportunities to study human behavior, apparently.

We experienced pain, heartbreak, misunderstandings, betrayal, often more deeply than others seemed to, because we feel things so intensely that it doesn’t always feel rational. We trusted people. We misread situations when others weren’t being direct.

Crowds, group settings, being around people with unregulated nervous systems… it could all feel like too much. We craved safety, silence, less stimulation. Some days, even leaving the house felt impossible, because existing out in public around other humans felt overwhelming.

So many of us daydream about a different kind of Earth. One where people are softer, more understanding, compassionate, empathetic. A world without so much violence, division, jealousy, or cruelty. A world where people live in harmony, without constantly judging each other.

A lot of neurodivergent people end up going through some kind of spiritual awakening at some point in their lives. We already tend to carry the baseline traits for it: sensitivity, intuition, vivid imagination, deep self-awareness, the ability to connect on a cellular level, and a different way of perceiving life and reality compared to neurotypical people.

And eventually, something shifts.

We stop masking so much. We begin understanding ourselves instead of constantly trying to “fix” ourselves. We start showing compassion toward our own nature. Yes, we are different. No, we don’t fully fit in. And slowly, we stop pretending that we do. Well… most of the time, anyway.

We learn how to regulate our nervous systems as we get to know ourselves better. We learn discernment, boundaries, self-love, emotional regulation. We learn how to feel emotions without drowning in them. We start giving ourselves the empathy and space to simply exist. And by understanding what overstimulates us, we can create environments that actually make us feel safe, grounded, and recharged.

And because many of us naturally exist in what feels like a “thin veil” state, with vivid inner worlds and deep imaginations, some people experience things like astral projection very naturally, without trying to force it. It can happen when the mind and body are calm. And honestly, as long as it’s approached in a grounded way, not as an escape from reality, I think it can be a beautiful way of experiencing the infinite parts of ourselves through a limited human body.

And whether you call it “starseed” or autistic, whether you believe in spirituality and higher dimensions or simply want to create a more peaceful life here on Earth… I think what matters most is learning to be kind to yourself and to others.

To stay grounded. Balanced. Safe within your body. And safe within yourself.

And finding out what works for you.

For example, I feel safer going out in public wearing a baseball cap. I don’t have to make as much eye contact with strangers, and I don’t feel as perceived. It helps my nervous system relax a little.

I also love cities where people feel calmer, softer, more empathetic… and honestly, a little neurodivergent on average. I feel more regulated there, safer, more understood somehow. I resonate with that energy more.

Which is funny, because it’s pretty much the complete opposite of the city I currently live in. And whenever I randomly run into strangers from the parts of that country I resonate with, there’s this soft recognition between us. Like an unspoken understanding.

And honestly… I think that’s lovely. It feels like home.