One of the differences between tennis and pickleball is that in tennis you get to be all matchy-matchy. Some women in pickleball wear cute outfits, but they don’t feel the need to match from head to toe and buy multiple pairs of shoes. In tennis, even the professional men on tour like Alcaraz and Sinner match, right down to their socks and shoes.
One of my neurospicy characteristics is my OCD, so I always made everything match down to my underwear, even before I started playing tennis competitively in my early 30’s. I am a little less stringent about matching now, since I work from home and all people can see is the very top of my blouse. And I hate folding clothes so they’re just piled in a huge jumble on my guest bed. And I don’t want to spend time sorting through the pile to make sure I can find a pair of underwear that’s going to match my bra and go with my outfit.
But now that I’ve started playing tennis again, my desire to match everything has come back with a vengeance. Last Monday, I decided to wear everything in 2 shades of purple for pickleball–dark purple (my favorite) and a lighter, lavender color. I debated on whether I wanted to go so far as to get my matching purple jacket and my matching purple gloves. Would people think this is too much? A bit over the top?
Ever since I have embraced my neurodivergence, I have changed. Before, I was training to be normal, like Neo being trained by Morpheus in The Matrix, since he was reborn into the real world. I didn’t trust myself. Do I really have power? Can I really be myself? Am I really all that? Neo asks himself this question over and over again, seeking reassurance from Trinity, the Oracle, and Morpheus. The Oracle tells Neo that he’s not ready. That he’s waiting for something. Morpheus says that he needs to believe. He can only show him the path, but Neo has to walk it.
In the end, there are 2 things that help Neo realize that he’s the One. First, he believes that he can save Morpheus and risks his life doing so. Second, Trinity tells him that the Oracle told her that she would fall in love with the One, and she loves Neo, so he can’t be dead. He needs to get back up and fight. So he does. And then, suddenly, he can read the code, and he destroys the Agents effortlessly.
If you haven’t watched the Matrix, I’m sorry I spoiled it for you. But in my defense, it came out in 1999. And if you haven’t watched it yet, what are you waiting for?! This is one of the greatest movies of all time! They just made two references to it in the musical The Book of Mormons, which my family and I watched yesterday. That’s how relevant it is!
But I digress.
Now that I understand what neurodivergence means, which is that some people’s brains are wired differently, I know what my superpower is. I can feel people’s neurodivergence. I have to think about their particular skills, recalling pervious sessions with them, including details they mentioned but we never focused on. The recognition of their neurodivergence, however, is instantaneous.
When I explain to people what their superpowers are, they begin to thrive almost immediately, knowing deep down that what I’ve seen is true. Just like Morpheus knew that Neo was the One.
By the time we have our next session, they have already come up with new ways to self-soothe when they become distressed. This is the biggest problem that neurospicy people have–the neurotypical world traumatizes them on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. But once you know how to self-regulate, you no longer have to be depressed, anxious, or have a meltdown for extended periods of time. You can do whatever you need to do to self-regulate.
And then you can thrive. Because they know themselves better than I do, once they’ve been shown how to read the code, they fly. Just like Neo. And they, too, become the Ones.
What does all this have to do with me dressing up in 2 shades of purple from head to toe, including my underwear, socks, and outerwear, you ask? Well, I no longer care what other people think of me. I’m going to do whatever makes me happy. And if you think this picture of me is too matchy-matchy, too bad. Because from now on, this is how I roll.
And this is what my bed of clothes looks like. And I still have one more load to do. Which I just put in the washing machine.
Normal in Training 