BY ELOISE STARK
The first friend I made in elementary school used to describe every horse at her riding school in detail.
She lent me novels about horses – an endless stream of paperbacks from the Pony Club Rivals collection. “You have to read this, it’s amazing,” she’d say. Once, I asked her if we could play something other than make-believe horses. “No,” she replied. “Now come on, let’s trot.”
Similarly, my boyfriend likes to describe every motorbike he’s ever owned, in meticulous chronological order. He reminds me of my old best friend when I try to change the topic from motorbikes: “Oh no,” he says, pulling me closer, “we’ve barely started.”
The similarity between my childhood best friend and my current boyfriend’s passionate tendencies makes me smile. After discovering my own neurodivergence, I soon realized that nearly all of my closest friendships and romantic relationships had been with fellow NDs. We always seemed to find each other.
I’d always thought we were on the same wavelength – turns out, we were on the same spectrum.
At first, this pattern in my friendships was largely a coincidence. The people I happened to get along with were those whose brains worked like mine. Who jumped from one topic to the next, cared about things deeply, and were incapable of small talk. I was subconsciously drawn to them.
Later, once I got to grips with my own neurodivergence, I started to intentionally seek out people like me. I realized that I could tell when someone was ND. I had a sort of sixth sense, and it helped me know who to trust and who to befriend.
It turns out there’s a name for this sort of sixth sense. Well, several names. You’ve heard of gaydar or transdar – meet AuDHD-dar. Coined on social media, it describes the ability many neurodivergent people have to identify others like them. It’s also known as neurodivergent-dar, Aydar, or – my personal favorite – the Autism-Spectrometer.
“Every friend I’ve ever had has been some flavor of neurodivergent. We can smell each other, I swear,” wrote one Redditor. “I’ve joked with my therapist that I could run an ADHD diagnostic clinic as a side hustle just through my dating life,” said another.
This is no surprise to ADHD coach Diane Garzon. “When you’ve spent years navigating your own challenges with attention, executive function, or emotional regulation, it’s natural to notice those same struggles in others,” she explains.
This radar isn’t just another quirk of our spicy brains, though. It is a survival tool that helps us to find community and safe spaces.
Aurelia, who runs the blog Aurelia Lightcaster, tells me that her radar helps her feel like she’s “found one of [her] people” and to “feel less judged for [her] natural ways of interacting with people”.
Her radar sends her the message that she can invite someone into her world. “Like they can navigate my mental landscape without getting lost or confused – and I can do the same with theirs.”
Neurodivergents trust each other because we have similar experiences. We echo each other’s communication styles. We stim together. We build safe little bubbles where it’s okay to unmask.
And in these safe spaces, we can see ourselves more clearly.
When we spot our own traits reflected in people we admire – people who are brilliant, witty, creative, funny – it’s a kind of mirror. And it says: if they’re amazing, maybe I’m kind of amazing too.
Plus, it gives us recognition without having to ask a doctor to put a label on us. Many people, myself included, choose not to pursue a formal diagnosis. It’s a long, arduous process, and can cost thousands of dollars – out of reach for many. And in a political climate where ideas like an “autism registry” are being floated, it’s no wonder some of us are cautious about engaging with the medical system.
Still, having a name for the way we experience the world matters to many of us. And a good alternative to having a medical diagnosis is feeling recognized by other NDs. Instead of being board-certified, we’re peer-reviewed.
AuDHD-dar could have repercussions beyond the ND community, as well. Popularizing the notion would teach neurotypical people all the subtle signs and ways in which neurodivergence manifests in real life. It would lead to greater awareness, acceptance, and celebration of who we are when we are truly ourselves – stimming, hyperfocusing, and chatting away about horses and motorbikes.
BIO: Eloise Stark is a freelance journalist who covers mental health and travel. She also runs the adventure travel blog, Shortcuts and Side Quests.
