Are We All on the Spectrum? Debunking the Myth and Honoring the Truth of PTSD

“Aren’t we all on the Spectrum?” It’s a phrase you’ve probably heard. Meant to be inclusive, empathetic. But instead, it flattens real difference. Worse, it dismisses two vital experiences: the lifelong identity of Autistic people, and the lived trauma of NeuroTypicals who developed PTSD from living inside a NeuroDivergence system.

Let’s get clear. This article is about reclaiming language, and in doing so, reclaiming ourselves. First, however, let’s quickly review and clarify the terms we’ll be discussing.

Clarifying the Terms

• NeuroTypical (NT): The dominant neurotype. Socially intuitive, emotionally reciprocal, neurologically attuned to cultural norms. NTs are not on the Autism Spectrum.
• NeuroDiverse: Not a catch-all for all humanity. In this framework, NeuroDiverse refers specifically to individuals born with cognitive styles that fundamentally diverge from NT norms — Autistic individuals and others with similar neurologically based divergences.
• NeuroDivergence: A term I traditionally use to describe the system. But in this episode, I began thinking differently. I’m using “NeuroDivergence” to name the field itself — the space between diverging minds. The chronic misattunement, the friction, the trauma that emerges when operating systems collide.
• Autism / ASD: A genetic, neurodevelopmental condition. Present from birth. If you weren’t born Autistic, you are not on the Spectrum. Period.
• PTSD: A survival adaptation. An injury. Not an identity.

The Core Misunderstanding

People often say, “I’m a little Autistic too,” or, “We all have quirks.” But Autism is not a cluster of quirks or traits. It’s a complete operating system. To reduce it to anxiety, introversion, or poor eye contact is to misunderstand it entirely.

PTSD complicates this further. Because PTSD mimics certain Autistic traits: sensory overload, emotional shutdown, difficulty with boundaries. But these are trauma responses. Not neurodevelopmental wiring. PTSD doesn’t make you Autistic. It makes you hurt.

Trauma in a NeuroDivergence System

Now let’s talk about the system. Many NTs develop PTSD not from war zones or disasters — but from growing up or living in homes shaped by unsupported Autism.

An NT child in a NeuroDivergence system might feel chronically unseen, invalidated, emotionally dismissed. They grow up second-guessing their intuition, suppressing their needs, and blaming themselves for the disconnection. Over time, their nervous system shatters. This is how PTSD forms.

Not because they were born different. But because they were born into a system that couldn’t attune to who they were.

The Empath’s Burden

Many NTs are highly empathic. That empathy becomes a liability in a misattuned system. You twist yourself into knots trying to decode behaviors, anticipate reactions, keep the peace.

Eventually, something breaks. You think: What’s wrong with me? But the better question is: What happened to me? That question leads to revelation.

And if you’re here, you might be waking up inside that realization.

The Perverse Logic of Mislabeling

Here’s where the logic gets dangerous. If PTSD makes you NeuroDiverse, and your PTSD came from an Autistic parent or partner, then the implication is: They made you like them.
That’s not just inaccurate. It’s perverse.

It turns trauma into mimicry. It pathologizes Autism as infectious. And it invalidates the real neurological injuries sustained by NTs.

Your PTSD is not their Autism. It’s what happened when no one named the gap.

Naming the Difference to Heal

Saying “we’re all on the Spectrum” is not inclusion. It’s erasure.

When we name the difference between PTSD and Autism, we don’t divide — we orient. We start drawing a map. One that helps everyone find their way back to center.

You don’t need to adopt a label that doesn’t belong to you. You don’t need to wonder if you’ve been Autistic all along. You just need to honor the truth: “I am not Autistic. I am NeuroTypical. I have PTSD. And it came from being stuck in a system that never mirrored me.”

NeuroDiverse Listeners, This is For You Too

To my NeuroDiverse listeners: You, too, have a right to reclaim your life.

Maybe you were raised in a world that told you empathy wasn’t available to you. Maybe your wiring was pathologized. Maybe you were taught to suppress your needs to appear “normal.”

But empathy is possible. Emotional reciprocity is possible. As Richard — another Autistic husband — has shown us, you can become Empathy Triad Engaged. This is one of the core teachings within the game — yes, there is a game — designed to help us practice what healing can look like in action, in relationship. His insight helped shape one of the core learning mechanics in the game, using a character named Number One to teach this practice.

This isn’t about copying NT behavior. It’s about growing toward mutuality. Healing is for you, too.

Introducing the Characters

Let me introduce you to two more of the characters you’ll meet in the game.

Phoebe Irene is a warrior empath. She grew up navigating the quiet dissonance of a household shaped by NeuroDivergence. She learned early how to read the room, soothe the storm, disappear when needed. Now, as an adult, Phoebe carries the invisible scars of PTSD — not from violence, but from never being seen clearly. She knows something is wrong. And she’s ready to find her way back to herself.

Bianca Marin is Autistic — lyrical, sensory, and nonlinear. She rarely finishes her stories, not because she lacks discipline, but because the joy is in the words themselves. Bianca feels music in conversation, color in silence, and meaning even when others say there is none. She is misunderstood often, but never disheartened. Because she has a rhythm — even if others can’t hear it yet.

You won’t just play these characters. You’ll feel with them. You’ll learn what they need. And you’ll discover the language of Radiant Empathy through their lives.

How the Game Was Born

This game wasn’t born in a vacuum. It started years ago, with a man named Tracy — an Autistic husband who came to me after yet another communication breakdown with his wife. He laughed when he said it: “We need an app… you know, like Conversational Aspergian — like Conversational Spanish, but for me and her.”

At the time, I smiled — but I also felt the weight of that request. Tracy wasn’t asking for a translation tool. He was asking for a bridge. A way to stay in connection across the gap of NeuroDivergence. He didn’t want to escape his wiring — and he didn’t want his wife to feel like the translator for both of their lives.

I sat with that idea for a long time. And eventually, I realized it needed more than an app. It needed an experience — something immersive. Something emotional. Something that could teach us to listen, not just decode.

That’s how this game was born. Not as “Conversational Aspergian,” but as something deeper. Something I now call Radiant Empathy — the capacity to feel someone across the system, across the divergence, and respond in a way that brings clarity, not collapse.

Closing Reflection

You are not on the Spectrum. And that’s not a loss. That’s your freedom.

Trauma is not an identity. It’s an invitation.

You get to come home to who you were before the system bent you out of shape.

And if you are NeuroDiverse — born into a world that could not fully meet you — know this: your wiring is not broken. You, too, are invited to grow into mutuality, to expand your capacity, and to live from a place of Radiant Empathy.

Thanks for being here. Let’s keep building the map — the Map of Empathy Territory (found in the game too!).