When the Inner World Feels More Real Than the Outer One

I came across a line recently that stopped me in my tracks: 

“The inner world often feels more vivid, important, or intense than the outer one.” 

It was tucked inside an article about the neurodivergent experience, and it hit me with the kind of force that only comes when something unspoken inside you finally has words. I read it again. Then again. 

Because — without realizing it — this has been true for me my entire life. It isn’t just that I daydream a lot (though I do) or that I can get lost in stories, memories, and imagined conversations. It’s that my inner world has always felt more immediate, more intense, more real than the world outside of me. 

Emotions, thoughts, ideas — they bloom huge and technicolor inside my head, while the world around me can sometimes feel distant or muted, like I'm watching life through a foggy window. And here’s the thing: I genuinely didn’t know this wasn’t how everyone else experienced the world. It’s no wonder it took me so long to understand my diagnosis. 

For years, I internalized my differences as flaws — being too sensitive, too distracted, too awkward, too intense. I thought my tendency to get lost in thought or overwhelmed by my own emotions meant there was something wrong with me, something I just needed to work harder to fix. But learning about my neurodivergence gave me the context I never had. It reframed my experiences.

That vivid, intricate, emotionally-charged inner world isn’t a character flaw — it’s part of the way my brain is wired. It’s why creative projects feel so exhilarating. It’s why theater, writing, and storytelling have always felt like lifelines. It’s why quiet moments alone can be as rich as any grand adventure.

I share this because maybe you’ve felt this too — like you’re living a double life, one in your head and one in the world, with the former somehow always louder and more insistent. Maybe no one ever told you it could mean something important about the way you’re built.

If nothing else, this is a reminder: There are so many ways to experience the world. And the way yours feels — even if it’s different — matters.