Aithníonn ciaraóg ciaraóg eile

This is an “Irish Proverb” (seanfhocail) that I’ve known for quite a while now. I probably first heard it in The Secret of Kells, but I was also really into looking up Irish sayings when I was in high school, so who knows. What I do know is that it’s a phrase that has come to mean much more to me in recent years and it’s one that I often find myself whispering whenever I find myself in situations that feel just a little too familiar.

The meaning behind this is pretty much exactly what it says on the tin. One beetle recognizes another beetle.

I’m someone who grew up feeling like an outcast, feeling isolated and separate from everyone around me, like I was a singular beetle living in a world populated solely by butterflies. There’s nothing inherently wrong with butterflies, of course. Everyone loves butterflies. They’re beautiful and they help pollinate flowers.

But when you’re a beetle and the whole world is designed for butterflies, you never quite fit in. You’ll never look like them or act like them, no matter how hard you try. And even if people don’t remind you how poorly you fit in, you can still feel it.

It’s only as I began learning about my own neurodivergence and participating in those communities that I felt like I finally found people who were like me, other beetles. I learned that beetles aren’t broken or wrong or ugly. They just aren’t butterflies. When you start judging them for what they are instead of what they are not, you start to see their true beauty. Beetles are important pollinators too. And they eat pests that destroy crops. And they have all sorts of beautiful different colors and patterns.

The more I learned, the more I found that I was unknowingly drawn to befriend people who were also neurodivergent.

I didn’t know it, but most of my friends were actually beetles all along. It’s just that they, like me, were doing their best to look like butterflies. And since no one ever taught me what a beetle looks like, I didn’t know any better.

It’s been the same with learning about PTSD and trauma (though in fairness, neurodivergent people have been found to be anywhere from 32 to 60% more likely to experience significant trauma than neurotypical people, according to various studies). The more I learn about trauma, the more I begin to recognize the shadows of it in the other beetles that I know and the larger the gulf between myself and butterflies seems to get.

It’s to the point now that almost as soon as I begin speaking to someone new, I know whether or not we’ll get along because I can recognize these signs of neurodivergence or trauma.

I recognize the other beetles.

And I’m sure there are people out there that will say that I need to give butterflies a chance, or that I’m limiting myself by only spending my time with like-minded beetles. But after a lifetime of feeling like an outcast, it’s nice to surround myself with my own kind.

Besides, simply existing in a neurotypical society does enough to expose me to people of differing views. I still spend the majority of my time feeling weird or wrong. When it comes to my time, when I can choose who I surround myself with, I’d much rather spend my time experiencing the joy and freedom of being accepted.

So, I guess this one’s for all the beetles out there. Letting you know that I recognize you and I accept you. It’s hard out there for beetles in this butterfly world, so make sure you find some other beetles to surround yourself with. Otherwise, you might start believing you’re supposed to be a butterfly, and you’ll spend your whole life chasing after something unattainable instead of enjoying just how beautiful beetles can be.