Rewiring What We Call “Common Sense”

 

“Use some common sense.” 

“That wasn’t logical.” 

These phrases have followed me for most of my life like a clunky, unwanted soundtrack. They usually arrived in response to something I did “wrong,” or when I approached a problem in a way that others found needlessly convoluted or strange. Sometimes the reactions were said with kindness. Other times, not so much. 

For a long time, I believed those judgments. I couldn’t understand why I seemed to lack this mysterious thing called common sense, or why my way of handling things never seemed logical enough. I internalized those comments and added them to the quiet story I told myself when things got hard: I’m careless. I’m spacey. I’m weird. Maybe I’m just stupid. 

But when I was finally diagnosed as neurodivergent, everything clicked into place. Suddenly, I had a framework for why my brain worked the way it did — why certain things felt effortless, while others could completely derail me. It turns out that when we talk about “common sense,” what we’re really referring to is common experience. It’s not an inherent universal truth — it’s just what seems obvious based on how you’ve been conditioned to think and operate. 

 And “logical”? That’s often just shorthand for “the way my brain processes things.” The problem is that neurodivergent brains — like mine — don’t always play by those same rules. We’re often nonlinear thinkers. We may approach a problem by darting sideways, then looping around, doubling back, and finally diving straight through the middle. To an outsider, that can look baffling. Overcomplicated. Even frustrating. But to us? That winding path makes sense. 

And more importantly, it often leads to ideas and solutions others might never have considered. I’ve always been the person who sees strange connections between unrelated things. The one who pulls patterns out of what looks like chaos. The one who can build a narrative out of mashed potatoes and Skittles. (That’s only kind of an exaggeration.) 

This is why I now understand the people who used to shake their heads at me — sometimes lovingly, sometimes not — and mutter, “You’re such a wasted genius.” They were confused that I could solve big-picture problems but struggle with “simple” tasks like remembering where I put my keys or why I walked into a room. They couldn’t see the invisible rewiring happening in my brain. 

I see it now. I see the creativity. The divergence. The resilience it takes to function in a world not built for how my brain naturally works. This whole journey — from confusion to diagnosis to acceptance — has taught me a few key truths: 

🔹 There is rarely just one right way to do something. 

🔹 And the more we embrace different ways of thinking, the better off we’ll all be. 

So maybe it’s time we stop worshipping the idea of one “logical” path. And start celebrating all the beautifully different, unconventional, and brilliant ways people get things done.