Pride, Privilege & Perspective: Reflections from a Neurodivergent Ally
- living-in-full-blo
- 5 days ago
- 3 min read
June is Pride Month, a time for celebration, remembrance, and reflection. As a neurodivergent woman, a youth worker, and someone who has spent years supporting LGBTQ+ young people, I find myself holding space for many intersecting identities, my clients’, my community's, and, more recently, my own.
Though I present as a white cisgender woman and have moved through the world with all the privilege that brings, I only fully realised I was bisexual at the age of 41. It happened during a typical evening at an LGBTQ+ youth group I help facilitate. The young people there were chatting about all sorts, as they always do, and the conversation turned to what bisexuality really means.
It was through that discussion, and their generous, insightful definitions, that something clicked for me. I saw myself clearly for the first time. That group of teenagers helped me name something I’d felt for years but hadn’t found the language or space to articulate. And isn’t that the magic of youth work? The conversation is always two-way. The learning is always mutual.
One of my favourite quotes from Paulo Freire is:
“The teacher is no longer merely the-one-who-teaches, but one who is himself taught in dialogue with the students, who in turn while being taught also teach.”
— Paulo Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed
This mutuality is at the heart of how I work, with young people, with neurodivergent clients, with queer and trans individuals navigating a world that so often misunderstands or misrepresents them. I am always learning. And I am committed to doing the work: to educate myself, to hold space, to be an ally in action, not just in words.
Creating safe, accessible spaces for all people, especially those who are most marginalised, isn’t just an abstract value for me. It’s a daily practice. It’s imperfect. I get things wrong. I slip up on pronouns. I make assumptions, like we all do, because we’ve been shaped by a society that rewards normativity and punishes difference.
But we can evolve. We can apologise, re-centre, and move forward with humility. Being a good ally isn’t about never getting it wrong, it’s about being willing to learn, to listen, and to lead with kindness.
As a neurodivergent person, I know what it feels like to be misunderstood, overlooked, or labelled. And I also know how powerful it is when someone sees you for who you really are. So I hold that as a core value in my work: to see people clearly, and to make room for them to see themselves too.
I honestly believe that many people who discriminate do so from a place of fear, not malice. Fear of what they don’t understand. Fear of change. Sometimes, all it takes is a real conversation, grounded in honesty and compassion, to open their eyes.
You catch more flies with honey, as the saying goes.
So this Pride Month, I’m celebrating growth, connection, and the magic of being in community with others. I’m honouring the young people who helped me know myself better. And I’m standing, proudly, with those whose very existence challenges the norm and invites us all to expand our understanding of love, gender, and identity.
To my LGBTQ+ clients, friends, colleagues, and community: I see you. I’m learning with you. I’m proud to walk beside you.
With love and solidarity,
Julie - Living in Full Bloom 🌈