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One evening this past week, at a social gathering, I reconnected with an old acquaintance I hadn't seen in a year. We talked for a while, and at one point the subject of communications and theater came up. They were under the impression that I'm someone who regularly and easily puts herself out there, with no shyness in evidence. I hastily and vehemently denied that label and voiced my intense introversion. They were aghast. For the nearly twenty years we've known each other, they were convinced I'm an extrovert. Of course, they've never seen the me that goes home and crashes from the weight of social interaction, needing a few days to recover. This interaction got me thinking more deeply about how I present to the wider world. As someone who didn't understand I am neurospicy (AuDHD) until well into my sixth decade—at age 57—I have always been overly conscious of how I'm viewed, both in public and more broadly as a human being. I always attributed my drive to appear uber competent, capable, skilled, creative, witty, smart, and never an inconvenience to being the eldest daughter of four (and a Scorpio); being all of those things has felt ingrained since the moment of my birth. The contradictory piece is that I also want to be invisible. I don't want to be perceived at all. So the question becomes: have I been masking my authentic self all these years? Is it all performative, or am I really what I present to the world? Is that the real me? If it isn't, I've certainly got people fooled—myself included. The answer gets muddied by the understanding that I need—actually crave—that solitary space to be alone with my thoughts and ideas. Disappearing into my sanctuary is when I'm most comfortable; there's no pressure to be that very long list of perfection. Or are all the contradictions just my spicy neurology, defined? Maybe that's the truest answer I have right now: I'm not one or the other. I'm not only the capable version people see out in the world, and I'm not only the depleted, needs-to-disappear version who spends the days after recovering from it. I'm both, running on the same circuitry, powered by the same brain that spent fifty-seven years compensating without knowing it had a name for what it was doing. I don't think I've been trying to fool anyone. I think I've been doing exactly what I was built to do—performing competence because it kept me emotionally safe, then retreating because retreat is what let me keep performing. The mask and the face underneath it aren't as separate as I once believed. At some point, worn long enough, the mask becomes the authentic. So I'll stop asking which one is real. They both are. The confident persona they remember and the self-contained person I know myself to be were never in competition—they were just two settings on the same dial, doing their best to get me through a world that wasn't built with my wiring in mind. That's not a contradiction to resolve. That's just what spicy neurology looks like, up close, defined. More fully understanding this quandary within myself can only help me support young people who are questioning their own authenticity and what it means to show up for themselves—and to hold empathy and kindness for others along the way. DRC NewsIt has been another quiet week of admin work and continued sorting of old blog posts. Once again, it included a medical appointment on Friday, when I had a laser treatment on my second eye to reduce the pressure. I also learned that my shoulder surgery won’t be until well into the fall—I won’t know the specific date until September. Volunteer Opportunity We are still looking for 6-8 more volunteers who would be excited to share their skills, talents, and knowledge with our student members for 2 days each month. This is an opportunity to build relationships with our youth and help them discover new ideas and fields of interest. If this is something you would like to explore, get in touch, or find the link to the volunteer application here. Please share this opportunity with your network. Thanks!
DRC in the Community
In early 2016, Jake R., a DRC student member, enjoyed a bit of local (and nearly national) fame for his invention, the Posibot, when we held an exciting formal installation in the upstairs lobby of the Canton Free Library on January 12, which the Watertown Daily Times documented. Jake created Posibot with others in mind. It is a contraption made from an old desktop computer tower and other assorted recycled materials. A notepad sits in a holder on top, where people can write an inspiring or kind message and slide it into a slot on the side. When someone wants to take one of the messages, they can open the door in front and grab one from the basket inside. For over ten years, Posibot has been an institution at the library. As the librarians have reported, it has brought joy to everyone who has participated in writing or receiving Posibot messages. I've met parents who say their kids insist on visiting Posibot every time they come to the library. The other day, after checking out my books, Sam the librarian told me this may be the end of the run for Posibot. He's a little worse for wear. Thankfully, Sam and the other librarians have performed maintenance over the past ten years, but poor Posibot now needs a complete makeover. I hope that some DRC student members will take on this makeover project in the fall-stay tuned! We will keep you updated.
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August 2026
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