Practicing being okay with others’ potential discomfort, as an AuDHDer.

I’ve developed a habit of sifting through communities on Meetup or Eventbrite for various events I might benefit from or find enjoyment in.

This can include workshops about neurodivergence or technology (looking at you, Notion), or guided journaling sessions (a recently discovered love of mine), or most recently, body-doubling sessions.

For the uninitiated, body-doubling is a revolutionary productivity method widely adopted by neurodivergent folks (though it can prove useful for any neurotype).

It can be done in-person or virtually and involves 2 or more people setting an intention at the start, followed by working together (or co-working) for a pre-determined amount of time, then wrapping up at the end by checking in on your progress.

It doesn’t matter what you’re both doing, one person could be gardening while the other is doing self-care/hygiene tasks they’ve been putting off. One could be working on a personal creative project while the other is developing design wireframes. Honestly doesn’t matter. That’s kind of the beauty of it.

This technique unlocks a certain level of motivation for many of us and helps to boost accountability. Seeing others being productive in turn encourages us to be productive ourselves. It’s amazing, really. If you haven’t tried it, I highly recommend it!

I came across a Meetup group a few weeks ago that offered free regular body-doubling sessions. I kept an eye on it for awhile, not wanting to “intrude” as I have no affiliation with the group itself (which is silly, now that I think about it).

I stayed up late the other night (as usual) spontaneously brain-dumping all kinds of ideas I had for my coaching business in 2024 in true unorganized ADHD fashion.

Yesterday, I decided to check out these free body-doubling sessions as a means to catch up on life admin stuff along with trying to organize my business plans for next year.

The first hour of the session went as I’d expect — this clearly isn’t my first rodeo.

We checked in at the top of the call, set our intentions, and got to work. I immediately got the impression that this group was a well-oiled machine, in a sense. They weren’t messing around when it came to sticking to schedule, which I could appreciate to a certain degree. We took a quick stretch break around 30-minutes in and got back to it. After an hour, we checked back in on our progress.

The host informed everyone that a different host would be joining the call (this time, the main organizer of the community itself) and that we were welcome to stay on and body-double with her for an additional hour.

I figured, I have this momentum already, I might as well stick around and harness more of it.

So, the hosts switch out, things still going as they should.

I’ll note here that during this transition period, we weren’t given a solid, off-camera break. We spent this time checking in on our progress and tasks, then dove right back into working. This was fine as far as I was concerned.

Now, in the many body-doubling sessions I’ve attended, some highly structured and organized for larger groups, some more loosey-goosey with smaller groups or 1:1, and everything in-between, there has always been something I can count on:

Understanding and flexibility.

These are key when working with a group of neurodivergent folks, in my opinion.

We’ve got rampant Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD) in the mix, and complex trauma might as well be a given.

So, about 15 minutes into the second hour of the session, I suddenly realize I haven’t eaten in awhile and immediately my hunger is urgent. This tends to happen to me and I’ve learned that it’s not only exacerbated by stimulant medication (which I’m still on break from), but it’s also an interoception-related symptom linked to Autism.

Some relevant background information about me (and lots of neurodivergent folks, unfortunately):

I have a history of disordered eating.

To be specific, I was anorexic from ages 14 to 19. I never received any real treatment for it and it was debilitating for years. I still struggle with aspects of an ingrained disordered eating mindset, but I’ve made huge strides in managing this in my adulthood.

So, when I realized my urgent hunger, I didn’t really question whether or not I should act on it in the moment.

I sent a message in the session chat saying, “BRB — Must. Have. Snack.”

In most body-doubling groups, this is fine. No one questions it. You have basic needs you need to tend to? By all means, go for it!

I turn my camera off as I grab something to eat. When I return to my computer with my snack (less than 2 minutes after sending the chat message, mind you), I see a reply from the host:

“Oh no! You only had 10 minutes to break. Great job listening to your body, though!”

Now… let’s unpack this a bit.

“You only had 10 minutes to break.” When was that? I actually had several minutes to actively engage in check-ins while you transitioned as the host, then we dove straight back into our work.

Regardless of having time to break, my hunger didn’t register for me until a few minutes later. I can’t control that and I shouldn’t be expected to try to control it.

The addition of, “Great job listening to your body, though!” after essentially reprimanding me felt passive aggressive to me, but I told myself, “You don’t know this person. Don’t assume their intention here — brush it off.”

(Vyvanse Neely™️ never could have followed this line of rational thinking, by the way 😅)

So, I kept eating my snack. My camera is off and I plan to turn it back on as soon as I’m done eating. It’s been probably less than 5 minutes since I sent the original chat message at this point.

I suddenly see a notification on my screen from Zoom.

“The host is requesting you to turn your video on.”

I’ve never seen a notification like this, and granted, I rarely turn my camera off during virtual group events. Only when I feel it’s necessary.

Right away, I felt rushed to finish eating and the initial passive aggression I sensed in the host’s message suddenly felt more accurate.

As someone with a history of disordered eating, along with demand avoidance and justice sensitivity associated with AuDHD, not to mention complex trauma, I was immediately triggered by this string of events.

I’ve always been particularly sensitive when it comes to anyone discouraging me (directly or indirectly) from eating, for any reason.

I feel this intense rage well up inside me and I think, “You can’t tell me when I can and can’t eat. Fuck you.”

So, I hurriedly turn my camera back on, but I can feel the rage continuing to well up. It’s uncomfortable and I can’t ignore it. I’m no longer able to be productive or focus on the task at hand.

A few minutes go by and I decide to leave the body-doubling session because it isn’t beneficial for me anymore.

I text 2 friends and my wife to complain about this scenario. I want validation that my feelings are warranted — this wasn’t how this situation should have been handled and it makes sense that I would feel triggered by it.

Thankfully, my 2 friends were very validating in their responses, and my wife (while not fully relating to the specifics of the situation) also made me feel less crazy.

My body is activated, I’m in fight-or-flight mode and I’m pissed off. It isn’t going away even with the validation.

There’s a recurring theme I’ve seen recently within Autism circles, including in the book Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD (which I highly, highly recommend!), that suggests we need to practice making others uncomfortable and being okay with it.

This isn’t to say, “Make others uncomfortable for no reason on purpose. Watch the world burn around you. Rinse, repeat.”

It is more so speaking to our people-pleasing tendencies as neurodivergent folks, our tendency to mask for the sake of putting others’ comfort above our own, and our inclination to assume responsibility for others’ feelings.

It suggests to practice letting others be uncomfortable around you without springing into action to make them feel better.

I can’t describe to you how often neurotypical people completely disregard my discomfort. And they don’t even notice. They just go on about their day afterwards.

So, I decided to send a private message to the event host to explain exactly why I would not be returning to any future sessions.

I felt it was pertinent to explain to her — even though she should already be aware as an ADHDer herself — the link between disordered eating and ADHD. That discouraging someone from tending to their needs is never okay.

This body-doubling session was free, by the way. She won’t “miss” me from these sessions. But that isn’t the point — I don’t want her doing this to anyone else in her sessions ever again, if I can help it. She doesn’t need to feel moved by my perspective, I simply want her to consider this moving forward.

Her response… left a lot to be desired, to say the least. It was inauthentic with additional passive aggression thrown in and a half-hearted apology. She even told me she checked my profile, saw that I had RSD (for the record, I don’t mention RSD in my Meetup profile, so that seemed odd and a bit deflecting/gaslighting), and that I was an ADHD coach, and tried to commiserate with me about having to “walk a fine line” with ADHD folks with RSD. As if I’m the problem here.

But, I digress, because her response wasn’t the point. “Fixing” this situation wasn’t the point, either.

Standing up for myself regardless of how it might affect someone else or make them uncomfortable?

That was the point.

In the past, I would have stewed on this interaction for days. I wouldn’t have sent a message to the host, I would have been too afraid/anxious to say anything. I would have just slipped away feeling like a perpetual fucking inconvenience for listening to my own goddamn body.

And that’s a garbage way to live. I’m not interested in living like that anymore.

I processed this scenario with my therapist about an hour after it all went down.

Thankfully, my therapist completely relates to that hint of defiance that comes out in me when I sense an injustice of some kind.

She’s the type of person to stand up for what is important to her. She doesn’t take shit from anyone — despite her anxiety.

She helped me to identify that, normally, I would let this situation send me down a thought spiral. I would have ruminated on it, in an unproductive way. I would have allowed it to ruin my day.

Instead? I said what I felt, vented to a couple of trusted people in my life, wrote a blog about it 😉, and now I can move on and let it float away.

And eat a goddamn snack anytime I fucking feel like it, damnit.