Thinking Differently in a World That Expects the Same

My journey as a neurodivergent software engineer and leader

This post is written with my heart open.

I want to share, with honesty and transparency, my experiences, feelings, and challenges since the very beginning of my career as a Software Engineer.

Looking back, I have to admit something: when I started my career 17 years ago, I didn’t know I was neurodivergent.

Actually, I didn’t even know that word existed.

What I did know was that I had learned to adapt myself very well to different contexts and people. I used to mask a lot—sometimes consciously, but most of the time without realizing it. It was almost automatic.

I had this tendency to categorize people in my mind, to build a kind of profile for them. Then, without thinking too much about it, I would “put on” the mask that best fit that profile.

It sounds strange when I explain it like this, and honestly, back then I wasn’t even aware I was doing it.

The truth is that this strategy worked quite well for my career. It helped me adapt, grow, and eventually move into leadership roles. I achieved many things that I’m proud of.

Of course, this is just one neuroatypical trait among many others. Another one that has shaped my professional life is hyperfocus. When a topic truly interests me, I can dive deeply into it and understand it very quickly—sometimes in just days or even hours.

This can sound like a superpower, and in many ways, it is. But it also has a darker side. When motivation is missing, the opposite happens: a complete lack of interest. Learning or doing something that doesn’t resonate with me can become incredibly hard, even if it’s something I have to do.

The key to addressing this—and something I’m still working on today—is building the habit of doing things I don’t want to do.

Things that are uncomfortable by nature.

Simple examples: taking cold showers, meditating, exercising, or deliberately participating in social events.

Maybe the hardest challenge I’ve had to face was accepting that I think differently from neurotypical people. And, even more importantly, learning to consciously manage my masking—choosing when to apply it and when not to.

This is not easy at all. It’s a constant challenge.

But paradoxically, it’s also something I find deeply interesting. It genuinely fascinates me.

There’s another important thing I want to mention.

Looking back, I realize that this way of thinking has also pushed me to go after what I truly enjoy. Not because I had everything figured out, but because I felt it was the right direction for me.

I’ve always tried to take responsibility for my career. To make decisions consciously, even when they were uncomfortable. To stay honest with myself about what I want—and what I don’t.

That’s allowed me to work on things I actually like. And, trying to stay modest here, it has also helped me do my job well and sometimes even stand out.

One thing I’ve learned along the way is this: if you want to grow as a leader, you first have to lead your own life.
Not perfectly. Just consciously.

For me, that means not staying still out of fear. And when I do stop, making sure it’s a choice, not a reaction.

I’ve also had to learn to make space for emotions. Even the uncomfortable ones. Especially those. Instead of fighting them, I try to understand them and use them as signals to move forward.

And honestly, I’ve failed many times. But I keep trying. Because practice matters. And persistence matters even more.

Not long ago, I told a friend that I see myself as a dreamer. He paused for a second and then told me something that stuck with me: that’s a good thing.
He said it allows me to think big—and to build a life that’s aligned with who I am.