What to do when a special interest fizzles out
Liminal space | from Encounter to Immersion to Integration sounds lovely, but what if it's BORING?
This was supposed to be my Between the Lines coaching column, but I didn’t receive any submissions, so we’re exploring something else today: the neurodivergent identity arc. You can submit your topic here as an open letter or through guided prompts or just reply to this email.
Hello, dear reader,
I’ve been in a weird liminal space.
Some time in 2021, I encountered a reel about 5 ways ADHD people clean their homes. It could have been just another reel, but it ended up being the catalyst for a life changing shift: it was the first time I thought: holy shit, this is me!
With that reel, I entered a liminal space in which I felt both relief and disorientation.
It led to a journey on which I binge listened to every ADHD podcast episode I could get my hands on, made Divergent Conversations part of my Friday routine, discovered autism, read all of the memoirs by late identified Autistic and ADHD people, watched countless YouTube videos about the AuDHD experience, and immersed myself in conversations about neuroqueering and monotropism, and more. I wrote about it, too:
And now, It’s been six months since I’ve written explicitly about the neurodivergent experience.
I check out AuDHD books from the library, only to return them without having read a single word.
I join neurodivergent spaces only to feel like I’m not quite in the right place amongst people who are in the early days of their neurodivergent discovery journey.
I’m finding myself in a different liminal space.
This time around, I feel sadness instead of relief; it’s still fucking disorienting though.
And what do reach for when we feel disoriented? Frameworks.
Let’s look at Megan Anna Neff’s framework around Neurodivergent Identity Arcs:
Here’s how Megan Anna summarizes the development from pre-encounter, to encounter (for me, this was the reel about cleaning up), to the immersion phase:
“Across many marginalized communities, identity development tends to follow similar arcs — even if they’re rarely neat or linear. For Black, queer, disabled, and neurodivergent folks, it often starts in a stage of pre-encounter — a time of blending in, confusion, or even disconnection from the identity itself. Then something shifts. A disruption. A moment of reckoning. A personal or public event that changes how we see ourselves.
From there, people often dive deep. This can look like intense reclaiming or immersion — sometimes marked by anger, grief, or fierce pride. Identity gets louder, sharper.”
The immersion phase was so interesting and curious and rich! New information, connection, frameworks, terminology, almost every day!
Here’s how Megan Anna describes the immersion phase:
“There’s often a hunger for information, validation, and community. Neurodivergent identity becomes vivid and central — sometimes a form of healing protest.
Experience: Deep engagement with ND identity — characterized by pride, clarity, grief, and anger at systems of oppression.
Common Behaviors: Unmasking, joining ND communities, passionate advocacy, rejecting neurotypical norms.
Strengths: Empowerment, liberation from shame, sense of belonging, clarity of self.”
I’ve got to tell you: I miss this! It’s hard to describe the energy of this phase, but I suspect many of you reading this know exactly what I’m talking about.
The next phase is integration.
”Over time, identity begins to settle. There’s less urgency to explain or prove, and more spaciousness to be. The ND identity is still central — but now held alongside other parts of self.
Experience: A more grounded, flexible narrative emerges. ND identity is deeply integrated, but not all-defining. There is space for contradiction — for joy and grief, connection and difference.”
It sounds wonderful — grounded, settled, more spaciousness to be. And also, to be honest, it feels a bit…
…boring.
I long for a single topic that pulls my attention in with such intensity. I think that’s why I keep bringing books home from the library — hoping one will spark a renewed obsession.
Except it isn’t happening.
And I know that something will grab my attention before I know it; and I can’t chase it, force it, make it happen. Maybe I need to let it go for a little while and make room for something new? I mean, what if that’s what it takes for me to get drawn in again?
And there it is: as I’m typing this, I realize: I don’t want to be done with it (yet); I just haven’t found my new angle; my way back in.
So, tell me, what resonates?
Are you “over it” yet? Or still immersed? How does it feel when an intense interest fizzles out? How do you let it go? How do you hold on?
(And what if it’s not just your own personal interest but you’ve also built a newsletter, community, and coaching business around this topic; for people who think in spirals and constellations — which we all know means mostly neurodivergent folks; and you just don’t feel like thinking / writing / talking / reading about it anymore? Then what?)
This is the part where I wish I could wrap it up pretty with a bow and share a takeaway or some hard earned wisdom or announce a new era for Purposeful Connection.
I don’t have that (yet). I’m in the midst of it; in liminal space between interests.
And so I look to you, dear reader, to offer your thoughts, reflections, and wisdom.
Because: I know I’m not alone in this. Right? (heart this if you’ve felt the same to let me know! ❤️)
I’ll be in the comments throughout the weekend. I sometimes take some time to process before responding, but I’ll read (and appreciate!) anything you have to share.
How do you respond when you feel a sense of settled identity while also missing the excitement and stimulation of new discovery?
I also have to say this part: I am very much not over supporting AuDHD people and humans who think in spirals and constellations through their own liminal spaces. As a coach, I offer time to think, reframes, observations, and curious questions. A co-created process to navigate uncertainty. If you’re at all curious about it, reply to this email (or send me a DM) asking me about scheduling a sample coaching conversation at no cost to you.
Until next week!
With love,
Hanna






I admire the honesty and vulnerability of this post, Hanna. I noticed myself falling out of the immersion phase about a year ago and felt an initial sense of unease/sadness/worry. I can't identify when, but some time after that I moved into the integration phase Megan Anna describes and honestly it's allowed a more full-bodied me to emerge and stretch out, which has been great. While I think about my own neurotype in some small way almost every day, I find that a burst of reading/listening/research occurs when I am facing a challenge of some sort. It makes me think of the spiral thinking... it's not that the interest is totally *gone* it just gets picked up and put back down as life calls for it.
I'm here, too, although my interests have been pulling a bit elsewhere. I'm not entirely devastated, but I do miss how invigorating it was.