Cassandra Syndrome: What is it and Why Do I Relate to it So Hard
Thank you to Kayagina and her daughter for asking about my opinion on Cassandra syndrome today because it inspired me. Cassandra Syndrome is named after Cassandra, a figure from Greek mythology. She was a Trojan princess blessed with the gift of prophecy by the god Apollo, but when she refused his advances (what an incel), he cursed her—ensuring that no one would ever believe her predictions. Despite foreseeing the fall of Troy and warning her people, she was dismissed and ignored, leading to tragic consequences.
For a lot of us—especially those with autism, ADHD, and PDA—this isn’t just an occasional frustration. It’s a pattern. A cycle. And it happens because of how our brains work. I remember making predictions about people years in advance, and getting in trouble for being mean or judgemental, only for it to come true exactly as I said. Neurodivergent minds are wired for patterns as I mentioned in my previous posts. We see connections where others don’t. We notice inconsistencies. We analyze behaviors, situations, and entire systems with an intensity that can be overwhelming to us, and to the people around us. This can be an incredible skill. It helps us spot flaws in plans, inconsistencies in logic, and even predict outcomes before they happen. But when we bring these insights to the table?
“You’re reading too much into it.”
“That’s not a real problem.”
“No one else is worried about this.”
“You’re making people feel “less than”
Until the thing we predicted happens, and suddenly, everyone is shocked. And all those toes you stepped on don’t apologize.
The Communication Barrier
This is where things get even messier. Because it’s not just about what we see—it’s about how we say it.
If you’re autistic, you might deliver your insights in a way that’s too direct, logical, or blunt for neurotypical norms. If you have ADHD, you might struggle to articulate your thoughts clearly before jumping to the next idea. If you have PDA, you might get pushback simply because people react negatively to the way you assert your autonomy. (It took me 37 years to realize how annoying I am to some people because of this, especially the ones with fragile egos).
Meanwhile, neurotypical communication is full of subtext and social rules that don’t come naturally to us. This gap makes it even easier for people to dismiss what we’re saying—not because we’re wrong, but because we’re saying it in a way that doesn’t fit their expectations.
So instead of, “Wow, that’s a great insight,” we get:
“You’re being negative.”
“You always have to be different, don’t you?”
“You think too much.”
And then, when the thing we warned about actually happens? Silence. Or worse—someone else repeats what we said months later, and suddenly it’s a brilliant idea.
The Emotional Toll of Never Being Heard
When this keeps happening—when your insights are ignored, your warnings are brushed off, and your way of thinking is constantly undervalued—it messes with you.
It can lead to self-doubt, making you second-guess your instincts.
It can lead to masking, where you start suppressing your thoughts just to avoid rejection.
It can lead to burnout, because constantly advocating for yourself in a world that won’t listen is exhausting.
At some point, many of us just stop trying. We either become invisible or we become exhausted fighters, spending every conversation trying to prove what we know to be true.
Neither is sustainable.
Why This Actually Matters (A Lot)
When workplaces, schools, or even personal relationships dismiss neurodivergent insights, they’re not just invalidating the person—they’re throwing away real solutions before they even get considered.
Think about how much innovation, problem-solving, and creative thinking is lost because neurodivergent people aren’t being taken seriously.
When neurotypical communication styles are prioritized over the actual content of what’s being said, organizations miss out on people who see the world differently in ways that could be game-changing.
It’s not just frustrating for us—it’s a huge societal loss.
So, What Can We Do About It?
Look, I’m not here to say there’s a magic fix. But I do think there are things we can do—both as individuals and as a society—to start shifting this dynamic.
✅ Neurodivergent people need spaces where we’re actually heard. That might mean finding (or creating) communities where our insights are valued. It might mean setting better boundaries with people who refuse to listen.
✅ Workplaces need to stop prioritizing “politeness” over actual ideas. If someone struggles with neurotypical communication but is saying something important, the focus should be on what they’re saying, not how they’re saying it.
✅ We need allies who amplify our voices. Sometimes, the frustrating truth is that people will listen to someone else say the same thing we said earlier. Having allies who recognize this and say, “Actually, [neurodivergent person] pointed this out first,” can help break that cycle.
✅ We need to stop second-guessing ourselves. If you’ve spent your whole life being dismissed, it’s easy to internalize the idea that you’re just “too much” or “always overthinking.” You’re not. Your brain is picking up on things other people don’t see. That’s not a flaw. That’s a strength.
Final Thoughts: From Curse to Strength
Being dismissed over and over again sucks. But the thing about Cassandra’s curse? She was never actually wrong.
If you’ve spent your life feeling unheard, know this: the way you see the world is valid. Your insights matter. And even when people refuse to listen, that doesn’t make you any less right. Who I am has led to helping countless people in profound ways, so I wouldn't trade it for anything just to get along better with people who cannot handle being wrong or being told their ideas are incomplete, with fragile egos and a deep need for validation above all else and a hope that no one figures them out (too late). Yes, I have beef. Every day I have Dwight from the Office in my head when some people are talking; “False”.
We need a world where different ways of thinking aren’t just tolerated but actively valued. And until then? Find your people. Keep speaking up. And remember that being ahead of your time doesn’t mean you’re lost—it just means the world hasn’t caught up to you yet.