For much of my life, I felt like I was working against my own brain. The constant stream of ideas, the difficulty in focusing on just one thing, the bursts of hyperfocus followed by moments of complete mental exhaustion—these were things I saw as obstacles. I labeled them as weaknesses, something to fight against rather than understand. It wasn’t until I found my place in the data visualization community that I started seeing my neurodivergence for what it truly is: my greatest strength.
As a kid, I can still vividly remember the diagnosis and the feeling after. I was diagnosed with ADD at an early age although by today's definition I am ADHD. As a kid I would take Ritalin twice a day. I was one of "those kids"—it was not labeled as a positive at all. Fast forward through life, and my impulsive decision-making, at times messy car and personal life, and there you have it on the surface—it’s all negative. But the pieces I never had the ability to appreciate were on the other side of the coin.
I have always been a busy thinker. I process things quickly, I study tiny nuances and details, I can detect patterns in numbers and shapes, I am hyper socially aware and spatially aware of my surroundings at all times. Every inch of me is creative. I have five new ideas while taking a drink of coffee. The swirl, for many years, was a distraction—I was planning a vacation, thinking through a school assignment, and considering an argument with a friend while working. At times, I was highly effective and the top achiever, and at other times, the lowest. I never had that magic to unlock why things went so well sometimes and why they didn’t.
That is until I switched careers from HR to data viz and met the amazing 'datafam' and Tableau community. Every aspect of the community was creative and constantly in motion. It was there I learned how to translate my hard wiring into a positive—and at times, my superpower.
It wasn’t until recently that I realized how far I had come with accepting all of my quirks, as I will call it. I was recently named a Tableau Visionary—wow. This is something I never pictured for myself, but it is the greatest recognition I could ever imagine in the data viz space. Yet, the same day I received the notification, our personal life was a mess. The kids were all fighting the flu and strep, we had a water leak in the kitchen, and there was a mix of Christmas and Valentine’s decorations still all over the house. I stopped and realized then that it was time to accept my gaps and embrace my strengths. I might never have a magazine-worthy home, but that’s okay. I know I can still excel in other areas. I have learned to find apps and tools to keep me organized where I need help and not to sweat the small stuff.
When I first started working with data, I saw it as a puzzle—one that required creativity, pattern recognition, and the ability to shift between details and the big picture quickly. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the very things I had struggled with in traditional work settings were the same things that made me excel in this space. My ability to make connections across disparate ideas, to see stories within the numbers, to hyperfocus on solving a challenge—all of these traits weren’t liabilities; they were assets.
The data visualization community reinforced this realization in ways I never expected. I found myself among people who valued curiosity, exploration, and creative problem-solving. Conversations weren’t linear—they jumped from tool tips to design principles to deep discussions about accessibility and storytelling. Instead of feeling scattered, I felt seen. The things that had made me feel different in other spaces made me feel at home here.
Through this community, I also started learning how to work with my brain instead of against it. I developed systems that helped me harness my strengths while managing the challenges that come with ADHD. I embraced collaboration, knowing that while I might struggle with certain tasks, my strengths in ideation and execution made me a valuable partner to others.
For so long, I thought success meant fitting into a mold that wasn’t designed for me. But in the world of data visualization, I realized that breaking the mold is where the magic happens. My neurodivergence allows me to see the world—and the data that tells its stories—in a way that is uniquely mine. And that, I now know, is my superpower.
This is just the beginning of the story I want to tell. If this resonates with you—whether you’re neurodivergent yourself or just someone who has ever felt like you didn’t quite fit—I hope you’ll continue this conversation with me. Because the more we share, the more we help others see that their differences aren’t barriers; they’re strengths waiting to be embraced.
Comments