Daydreaming can be a beautiful escape—but for me, it came at a cost. As someone who’s neurodivergent, my inner world is vivid, rich with imagery and music that feels larger than life. But that same world has made it harder to build friendships, maintain relationships, and grow into the kind of independent adult I want to be.

I often laugh at moments that seem random to others, because the joke is playing out in my head. I’ve had people turn away from me, thinking I’m strange. I make faces without realizing, stare off into space, talk to the air, and laugh at things no one else can see. From the outside, I probably look like I need medication—but inside, it’s just me living in a world that’s hard to explain.

My attention span suffers, and I’ve lost jobs and opportunities because I couldn’t stay present or listen the way others expected. Sometimes my reactions to my daydreams startle people. They think I’m ignoring them, or that I don’t care, or worse—that I’m being rude or spiteful. But the truth is, I’m just not “here” in the way they are.

Other times, I’m completely silent—lost in thought, somewhere far away. And people wonder if I’m okay, or if I’m even thinking at all.