There's a survival instinct that runs through generations. It drove my great-grandparents to flee Ireland in 1910
. It shows up in our neurodivergent children when they refuse to comply with demands that feel unsafe or impossible.
This isn't just resistance. It's remembering.
Remembering what we knew before colonial systems disconnected us from ourselves.
Decolonising isn't just about rejecting colonial systems. It's about returning to what we knew before those systems disconnected us from ourselves.
Before colonialism told us that nature was something separate from us - something to extract from, not give to.
Before capitalism convinced us that our worth comes from productivity, not our inherent connection to the earth.
Before patriarchy suppressed the feminine wisdom that understands cycles, intuition, and the sacred in the everyday.
At 51, my neurodivergent nervous system - with its justice sensitivity and endless curiosity - has led me back to something ancient. To Celtic goddesses who understood that strength and gentleness aren't opposites. To folklore that teaches us how to live in relationship with the land, not dominion over it.
The Feminine Rising
What we need now isn't just resistance to colonial systems. We need the feminine to rise - in women and men alike.
The feminine that listens instead of demanding. That nurtures instead of extracting. That works with cycles instead of against them.
Colonial capitalism taught us that nature is a resource to be consumed. But ancient wisdom - the kind our ancestors carried before colonisation - knew different.
They knew we are part of nature, not separate from it. They knew that what we take, we must also give. They knew that the earth is not our property but our mother.
The Neurodivergent Connection
Our neurodivergent nervous systems often carry this ancient knowing. We feel overwhelmed by artificial environments. We need connection to nature to regulate. We sense when systems are out of balance.
This isn't pathology. It's memory.
Memory of what it felt like to live in harmony with natural rhythms. Memory of communities that valued different ways of being. Memory of the sacred feminine that colonialism tried to erase.
When a PDA child refuses arbitrary demands, they're not being difficult. They're remembering what it feels like to live without coercion.
When autistic people stim in natural environments, they're not exhibiting disorder. They're remembering how to be in reciprocal relationship with the world around them.
The Coloniser's Playbook
The pattern is always the same:
Submit. Comply. Assimilate.
Speak our language, not yours. Follow our rules, not your instincts. Be grateful for what we give you.
The British Empire perfected this playbook across centuries. In Ireland, in the Ulster plantation, they made it illegal to speak Irish. They seized land. They created laws that prevented Catholics from voting until 1972 - yes, 1972.
When the potato blight hit in the 1840s, Britain exported food from Ireland whilst people starved. This wasn't natural disaster. This was genocide through starvation.
My great-grandparents knew this. They fled to England, where they faced new forms of oppression - "No Irish, No Blacks, No Dogs" signs in boarding house windows.
The Same System, Different Targets
Fast forward to today. The same colonial mindset shows up in:
Schools that punish neurodivergent children for stimming
Workplaces that demand eye contact from autistic employees
Mental health services that pathologise our natural responses to trauma
Political systems that criminalise resistance to occupation
Whether it's a child with PDA refusing to comply with arbitrary demands, or Palestinians resisting occupation, the response is identical:
"You're being difficult. You're being aggressive. You need to be more reasonable."
The coloniser's voice hasn't changed. It just found new targets.
PDA: The Activist Nervous System
Pathological Demand Avoidance isn't pathological at all. It's a nervous system that recognises coercion and refuses to submit.
These children sense when demands feel controlling, arbitrary, or unsafe. Their bodies say no before their minds can explain why.
We label this as disorder. We create behaviour plans. We try to make them compliant.
But what if their nervous systems are working perfectly? What if they're detecting something we've been trained to ignore?
The Power of Refusal
Artists who refuse to perform their identity in ways that make others comfortable understand something crucial: the coloniser's approval is not the goal.
They connect struggles across borders. They see the patterns. They name the connections.
This is what decolonised thinking looks like. It refuses to separate struggles. It sees the system behind individual conflicts.
The Privilege of Knowledge
I am white. I have privilege.
Privilege isn't only about skin colour or class background. Privilege is also
knowledge - the ability to see systems instead of just individual problems.
When we learn about anything - history, psychology, parenting, relationships - we need to ask:
Whose perspective is centred?
Who benefits from this narrative?
What voices are missing?
How can I decolonise this information?
This is the same critical thinking we use for belief checking in therapy. We question the story. We look for evidence. We consider alternative explanations.
Breaking the Compliance Cycle
The system wants us compliant. It wants our children quiet. It wants our resistance manageable.
But compliance isn't safety. Compliance is survival mode disguised as cooperation.
Real safety comes from:
Trusting our instincts when something feels wrong
Supporting others who refuse to comply
Questioning authority that serves itself, not us
Building communities based on mutual aid, not hierarchy
Your Activist Soul
You have an activist soul. It shows up when you:
Refuse to punish your PDA child for protecting themselves
Question why certain behaviours are labelled as problems
Connect your struggles to bigger systems
Choose solidarity over individual success
This isn't about becoming a full-time activist. It's about nurturing the part of you that knows when something isn't right.
The part that your great-grandparents carried when they fled oppression. The part that your neurodivergent nervous system protects when it says no to demands that feel unsafe.
The Connection to Palestine
The same system that starved Irish people in the 1840s is still operating today. Different location, same playbook.
The patterns are unmistakable: land theft, cultural erasure, collective punishment, international silence.
When I see what's happening in Palestine, I recognise the system that drove my great-grandparents from Ireland. The same justifications. The same dehumanisation. The same deliberate starvation used as a weapon.
This isn't coincidence. It's the same colonial machine finding new targets.
Recognising these connections isn't political posturing. It's pattern recognition. It's refusing to pretend that struggles for liberation are separate from each other.
When we connect our own family's story of survival to current resistance movements, we're not making everything about us. We're recognising that the system that harmed our ancestors is still harming people today.
Questions for Your Journey
What stories were you told about compliance that you're now questioning?
How does your nervous system respond to demands that feel controlling?
What would change if you trusted your instincts more than authority?
How can you decolonise the information you consume daily?
What ancient wisdom from your own heritage are you ready to remember?
How can you honour both your need for justice and your connection to the earth?
The Work Continues
Decolonising our minds isn't a one-time event. It's daily practice.
It's choosing to see patterns instead of isolated incidents. It's supporting resistance instead of demanding compliance. It's trusting our nervous systems instead of overriding them.
Your PDA child isn't broken. They're responding to a system that was never designed for their wellbeing.
Your activist soul isn't too sensitive. It's exactly sensitive enough for the world we're trying to build.
The question isn't whether you have the right to resist. The question is: what are you going to do with that right?
What patterns do you notice in your own life? How has learning about colonialism changed how you see everyday interactions? Share your thoughts in the comments - I'd love to hear your perspective.
Reading your post as an undiagnosed neurodivergent, I feel seen and understood. At the age of 69, I am finally realizing what has lead to me feeling very different and separate from most people. During the time I was in school, there was no consideration for those of us who were sort of "different". I was funneled into the "gifted program" at the age of 7. But it was assumed that we were all gifted in the same way. My gifts are spacial and mechanical but not mathematical. So when I encountered algebra and developed test anxiety, I hit a wall and was taken from the program. There was absolutely no recognition or support for my type of brain and intelligence. Neither my professional or my personal life follow a straight or conventional line. I have been professionally successful by forging my own way and creating my own opportunities and businesses. While it has always felt a bit hollow and lonely, I think I now realize why. My brain needs to know it is ok just the way it is.