Troubles Understanding Neurotypical Communication

Troubles Understanding Neurotypical Communication

I’ve always struggled to understand the way neurotypicals communicate. It’s like I never got the playbook. Funny thing is — that playbook was never written. And honestly, they never got it either.

Communication keeps evolving, and it’s full of unspoken rules. From the way they don’t really say what they mean to the way they use body language, it’s like a foreign language. Like when I say, “I’m fine,” I really mean I’m fine. But they keep asking, “Are you okay?” And it drives me nuts because, yes, I am fine.

According to my therapist Jennifer, I should say, “I’m doing okay today,” instead of “I’m fine.” That way, the neurotypical knows there’s nothing wrong with me. But honestly, it feels weird because the literal definition of “I’m fine” is… well, I’m fine. Duh.

Here’s the kicker: in neurotypical speak, “I’m fine” apparently means “I’m not okay.” Which feels like a trap. Why can’t people just say what they mean?

And that’s just the start. Here are some other phrases that neurotypicals say that don’t actually mean what they say:

• “No offense, but…” — Yeah, offense is definitely coming.
• “We need to talk.” — The calm before the storm.
• “Do whatever you want.” — Translation: I’m mad, but I’m making you guess why.
• “I’m sorry you feel that way.” — Code for: I don’t care about your feelings.
• “It’s fine.” — Spoiler: It’s not fine.

Then there’s the whole body language maze. Neurotypicals rely on it heavily to communicate feelings without words — but it’s subtle, confusing, and inconsistent.

• The fake smile that doesn’t reach the eyes means someone’s probably annoyed or uncomfortable.
• Crossing arms usually means defensiveness or shutting down, but sometimes it’s just a comfy position.
• Eye contact — neurotypicals expect you to hold it to show you’re paying attention. For me, that’s exhausting and feels invasive.
• The nod that says “I hear you” can sometimes mean “I’m pretending to listen.”
• They use tone shifts — like sarcasm or passive aggression — that can fly right over my head or hit me like a punch.

Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to learn a secret code where the rules change depending on the person, mood, or situation. It’s exhausting and frustrating, and honestly, it makes socializing a constant guessing game.

But here’s what I’m learning: I don’t have to fully get the playbook to have meaningful connections. I can set my own rules and boundaries, and people who really want to understand will meet me halfway.

If you’re like me and feel lost in the neurotypical communication maze, you’re not alone. It’s okay to be direct. It’s okay to say what you mean. And it’s okay to ask for clarity.

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