The Evolution of Neurodiversity and the Psychology of Identity: When Belonging Becomes Belief

Stephanie Underwood, MSW RSW

There has been a remarkable shift in how society understands neurodivergence over the past three decades.

In the 1990s, autism and ADHD were largely viewed through a medical lens. They were considered disorders to be managed, symptoms to be reduced, and deficits to be corrected. Many children grew up feeling “different,” Fast forward to today, and the conversation has changed dramatically.

The Evolution of Neurodiversity

The term “neurodiversity” was coined by Australian sociologist Judy Singer in the late 1990s (around 1998). She argued that human brains naturally vary, and society should recognize and accommodate that variation rather than assuming there is only one “correct” kind of brain.

A few years later, around 2000, the term “neurodivergent” was coined by Kassiane Asasumasu, an autistic activist. She has explained that she wanted a neutral, inclusive word for people whose brains diverge from what society considers neurologically typical. Importantly, she intended it to include many neurological differences, not just autism and ADHD.

Social Media’s Impact on Neurodiversity

Today, social media is filled with neurodivergent creators, AuDHD coaches, ADHD entrepreneurs, autism influencers, and millions of people finding community through shared experiences. For many, this has been profoundly healing. People who spent years feeling isolated have finally found language to describe their experiences. Shame has been replaced with understanding. Isolation has been replaced with connection.

These are undeniably positive developments.

But something else has begun to emerge.

A growing number of online communities have shifted from advocating for understanding toward promoting an increasingly polarized view of the world. Instead of simply recognizing neurological differences, some spaces now portray neurotypical people as intellectually inferior, emotionally shallow, morally compromised, or incapable of genuine self-awareness.

Comments like these are becoming increasingly common:

“Neurotypicals are stupid.”

“They’re not very deep.”

“They’re sheep.”

“They don’t think for themselves.”

“We’re the next evolution.”

“They need to conform to us.”

This raises an interesting question.

What happened?

The answer may have far less to do with autism or ADHD than it does with human psychology.

From Diagnosis to Identity

The neurodiversity movement began with an important idea. Difference is not synonymous with deficiency. Someone with ADHD may struggle with sustained attention while also demonstrating remarkable creativity. Someone on the autism spectrum may experience sensory sensitivities while also possessing exceptional pattern recognition.

Brains can differ without one being inherently better than another. This shift represented a move away from shame. People no longer had to see themselves as broken. They could instead understand themselves differently.

The challenge begins when understanding evolves into identity. Psychological identities serve an important purpose. They answer questions like:

Who am I?

Why have I always felt different?

Where do I belong?

For many people who spent years feeling misunderstood, discovering a neurodivergent community can feel like being truly seen for the first time.

“I’m not alone.”

“I’m not broken.”

“These people understand me.”

There is tremendous relief in that realization. But identity is only the beginning.

When Identity Becomes Community

Humans are social creatures. We are biologically wired to seek belonging. Community regulates the nervous system. Because belonging increases our chances of survival. It reduces uncertainty. It protects against loneliness. This is where social psychology becomes particularly interesting.

Once people find a community built around a shared identity, something predictable begins to happen.

The group develops shared language. Shared experiences, shared values, including shared enemies. Psychologists have studied this process for decades through Social Identity Theory. One of its central findings is surprisingly simple:

The stronger our identification with our own group, the easier it becomes to exaggerate differences between “us” and “them.”

This is known as in-group bias. This is a concept that isn’t unique to neurodivergence. It happens everywhere - politics, religion, sports, professional identities, online attachment communities, personality typologies. Any group built around a shared identity is vulnerable to the same psychological process.

The progression often looks something like this:

We are different, we understand each other, they don’t understand us, they misunderstand us, they judge us, they are the problem, we are better, etc.

Notice how subtle those transitions are. Each step feels like a natural extension of the previous one.

Yet by the end, the conversation is no longer about understanding. It is about superiority.

Schemas Don’t Disappear

As a therapist, I find another aspect of this particularly fascinating. People often assume that joining a supportive community heals psychological wounds. Sometimes it does. Sometimes it doesn’t.

Many people entering neurodivergent communities carry longstanding schemas such as:

• Defectiveness and Shame

• Social Isolation

• Emotional Deprivation

• Mistrust and Abuse

• Fear of Failure

For someone who has spent years believing “There is something wrong with me,” finding a community can provide enormous emotional relief. But relief and healing are not always the same thing. Communities can soothe schemas without changing them.

For example: Instead of healing Defectiveness, the group says, “You’re actually superior.”

Instead of healing Social Isolation, belonging becomes dependent on group membership.

Instead of healing Mistrust, the world becomes divided into people who “get it” and people who never will.

The emotional pain decreases, and the underlying schema remains untouched. It has simply found a new protective strategy.

The Algorithm Rewards Identity

Social media accelerates this process. Algorithms are not designed to reward nuance.

They reward engagement.

Content like: “Living with ADHD can be challenging.”

receives modest attention.

Content like: “Neurotypicals are literally NPCs.” travels much farther. Outrage and certainty spreads.

Over time, communities become increasingly confident that their shared worldview reflects objective reality.

In reality, it often reflects algorithmic selection.

The Mirror Image of Stigma

There is another irony worth acknowledging.

For decades, neurodivergent people experienced prejudice from society. Today, some online spaces appear to have developed the opposite prejudice.

The target has changed, but the psychological mechanism has not. If someone claimed:

“Autistic people are shallow.”

“They’re intellectually inferior.”

“They’re incapable of independent thought.”

Most people would immediately recognize those statements as discriminatory. The same principle should apply regardless of who the target is.

Replacing one stereotype with another does not create understanding. It merely changes who occupies the out-group.

Difference Is Not Hierarchy

One of the most valuable lessons psychology teaches us is that individual differences rarely fit neatly into categories.

Some autistic people possess extraordinary pattern recognition. Others do not.

Some people with ADHD are exceptionally creative.

Others are not.

Some neurotypical individuals are deeply reflective.

Others are not.

Curiosity.

Empathy.

Intelligence.

Creativity.

Moral reasoning.

These traits exist across all human populations.

Brains differ.

People differ.

That does not require hierarchy.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Perhaps the goal was never to replace one hierarchy with another. Perhaps it was simply to understand one another better.

Healthy communities create belonging, healthy identities create self-understanding, and healthy relationships allow disagreement without threatening acceptance. When belonging depends upon believing that another group is fundamentally inferior, identity has begun to replace curiosity.

That should concern all of us - because this story is not really about neurodivergence. It’s about something far more universal. It is about what humans do when we find a place where we finally feel understood.

Sometimes we heal. Sometimes we simply move the boundary between “us” and “them.” The challenge, both personally and collectively, is ensuring that our search for belonging does not quietly become a reason to stop questioning our own beliefs.

After all, genuine psychological growth has never required proving that one group of people is better than another. It has always required the courage to remain curious, especially when certainty feels safer.