Why so many atypical profiles don't see what makes them formidable
- Audrey Lessard
- Aug 3
- 4 min read
Sometimes I settle into a public place with no book and no phone. Just to watch people come in and sit down. I'm not staking anyone out, mind you, most of the time it's a simple glance.
And without meaning to, I read. Tension in the shoulders, a smile that doesn't reach the eyes, the mood of a group tipping over, the tiny shift in someone's posture. I notice everything. I'm hypersensitive to those signals, constantly.
For a long time, I assumed it was the same for everyone. That we all picked up this information the way I did, and that social life came down to that: a stream of signals we all received in the same way.
I eventually understood that this isn't the case. That kind of reading isn't given to everyone, and it's actually rather rare. The day I realized it, I saw how much I had underestimated it: in my work as a coach, it's one of my most valuable tools.
I developed that reading out of necessity, almost in survival mode. As a child, I had a vital need to understand human behaviour, to decode what seemed to come naturally to everyone else. I observed, over and over, until it became second nature. And still, I had never named it as a talent, because it felt self-evident to me.
I really took the measure of it later, during my years in restaurants and customer service. Sometimes I couldn't understand how a colleague failed to notice that a customer was unhappy. To me it was glaring: the tone stiffening, the eyes darting away, the impatience in a gesture. What looked obvious to me stayed perfectly invisible to others.
That's exactly where a trap hides, one I find in almost every atypical person I work with.
I describe to someone something they do remarkably well. I watch them frown. And they answer, a little embarrassed: “ Sure, but anyone can do that. ”
No. Precisely. Not everyone can do it. That's exactly what makes it a talent.
When something comes without effort, our brain concludes it must be easy for everyone else too. The talent blends into the background, because it costs nothing to use. What we notice is what resists.
And in neurodivergent profiles, I notice this mechanism is amplified by three things;
You've spent your life hearing about what you lack
Most of the people I work with reached adulthood with a long, well-integrated list: “ you're daydreaming ”, “ you could do so much better if you applied yourself ”, “ you're too intense ”, “ you're too sensitive ”.
Rarely an equivalent list of their strengths.
When you grow up with a spotlight aimed at what's going wrong, you develop a fine expertise in your own flaws and a complete blind spot for your zones of genius. It has less to do with self-esteem than with where you learned to look.
Atypical genius often comes “ in peaks and valleys ”
A neurodivergent profile is rarely good “ on average ”. It's spectacular in some places and in real difficulty in others. That's what's called a heterogeneous profile, or a spiky profile, literally a profile made of peaks. It's the term I find comes closest.
The problem is that difficulty and talent live in the same person, and difficulty is loud. It asks for help, for patience, it generates stress, it takes up all the space. Next to it, strength works in silence.
The result: the person defines themselves by where things get stuck, forgetting where they excel. They'll say “ I'm disorganized ” long before saying “ I see connections no one else sees ”.
We confuse “ easy for me ”
with “ worthless ”
That's the knot. In a culture that values visible effort, what comes to us naturally feels almost suspect. As if a talent only counted when it hurt.
So we put our energy into correcting our weaknesses; slow, exhausting work with modest results, and sometimes we neglect to invest in our strengths, where the return would be enormous.
Where to start seeing what you don't see
Recognizing your genius can't be decided by decree. It's observed, one clue at a time. A few paths I often suggest:
Notice what makes you impatient with others. Yes! We're often irritated by other people's slowness precisely in the areas where we're gifted without knowing it.
Listen to the thank-yous. The things people thank you for regularly are rarely trivial, even if they feel trivial to you.
Note what you're doing when you lose track of time. Hyperfocus almost always lands on a zone of strength.
And above all: ask two or three people who know you well to name what you do better than they do. The answers will surprise you, because they'll point exactly to what you learned not to see.
Naming your genius accurately has nothing arrogant about it: it's what lets you choose a job that fits who you are, defend it in an interview, and stop apologizing for being exactly the right person for certain things.
Perfectly atypicals. Fiercely formidables.
Do you recognize yourself in this text? In a one-on-one session, we put words on how you function, strengths included. Book a session
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