Special Interests

I’ve always found it mesmerising how my special interests weave through my life like threads in a tapestry, constantly shifting, evolving, and adding new layers to my understanding of myself and the world around me. As someone with ADHD, I tend to dive into things with full enthusiasm, riding the waves of dopamine highs, only to have those waves eventually fade as something else catches my attention. But it's more than just a pattern; it's a journey, one I am now approaching with curiosity and self-compassion.

Before I understood myself better, I would get upset with myself for jumping from one hobby to the next without sticking to any of them. I’d think there was something inherently wrong with me, that I couldn’t commit or see things through. I used to spend money on new projects, hoping they’d spark that lasting passion, only to feel disappointed when the interest faded. But now, with a deeper understanding of who I am and the way my ADHD and neurodivergence shape my experience, I’m much kinder to myself, this has taken some time.

I’ve learned to embrace these shifts with curiosity rather than frustration. Instead of holding myself to rigid expectations, I allow myself to explore these interests as they come, knowing that not everything needs to become a lifelong passion. If something doesn’t evolve into a lasting hobby or special interest, I simply shrug it off as another beautiful experience on my journey - another chapter in my story. I’ve realised that each interest, whether fleeting or lasting, is valuable in its own right. And now, I can look back with a sense of gratitude for the many paths I’ve walked, instead of feeling like I’ve failed. It’s all part of the exploration, and I’m learning to trust the process.

One of the deepest and most enduring interests in my life has been spirituality - particularly witchcraft, shamanism, and a more recent thread the incredible stories of goddesses. Lilith, the powerful archetype of independence and transformation, has recently become a focus for me. I’ve been reading and learning about her in ways that feel both enlightening and empowering. Before Lilith, I was drawn to the Morrigan, the Celtic goddess of fate, war, and death. These powerful female archetypes speak to something primal within me, something that resonates with my own experience of being a feminist woman, a neurodivergent individual, and a seeker of equality.

I find that my passion for these goddesses flows into the work I do with the women’s groups I facilitate. I can see how the energy of these goddesses mirrors the strength, resilience, and complexity of the women I work with. It’s like they’re guiding us, gently holding space for our stories to unfold, offering us wisdom in ways that feel both ancient and incredibly relevant today.

Spirituality has also led me to explore my own ancestry, which has been an equally fascinating rabbit hole. For the past few years, I’ve poured over my family tree, spending hours and hours in hyper focuses, where I have lost days, tracing it back to the 1400s in parts. Discovering the lives of my ancestors - their work, their homes, the places they lived - has been like uncovering hidden treasures. It connects me to something bigger than myself, a feeling that I am part of a long, rich lineage of people who walked this earth before me.

Another thread in my journey is neurodivergence. As someone who experiences ADHD, autism and dyslexia, I’ve always been intrigued by how these aspects of my identity intersect with my spiritual practices and my understanding of wellbeing. I see patterns and connections between the way I engage with the world and the way others in my groups do. The ways in which we all navigate our lives, with challenges and strengths, makes me feel even more passionate about understanding neurodivergence. It’s all linked - health, wellbeing, spirituality - one fluid whole.

And then, there are my mini special interests, those bursts of intense focus that come and go, often leaving a trail of projects behind me. Recently, I got into terrarium making. I crafted three beautiful little ecosystems, each one more intricate than the last, and now the spark has fizzled out. Before that, I was obsessed with finding sea glass that glows in the dark, even though I don’t live near the sea. The excitement of hunting for those elusive pieces was like chasing a treasure that only existed in my mind. And yet, like all things, it faded. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t meaningful while it lasted.

There have been many other mini special interests over the years - beaded jewellery making, block printing onto fabric, mindfulness colouring, painting, and drawing. Sometimes, I wonder if these fleeting passions are driven by my ADHD need for novelty, excitement, and the next dopamine rush. But there’s also something deeper at play, something I think aligns with my autistic need for structure, focus, and connection. These projects, though temporary, help me understand myself more clearly, like brief but significant chapters in a long story.

In a way, I think this blend of long-standing and transient interests reflects my journey of self-discovery. There’s no right or wrong way to experience the world or to learn, no perfect path to follow. I embrace the shifts, the fading passions, and the things that stick. They are all pieces of who I am - each one offering me something valuable as I continue to grow, explore, and reflect. And in that, I find a deep sense of peace and self-kindness.