Autonomy: The Desire to Be Ourselves

A Reflection on AuDHD, Control, and the Struggle for Freedom

For as long as I can remember, I’ve wrestled with control—not just the kind imposed by others, but the invisible grip of rules, expectations, and restrictions that never quite aligned with me. Autonomy—the freedom to govern my own actions—has never been a mere preference; it’s a fundamental necessity. When stripped away, it doesn’t just frustrate me—it unsettles me, stirs anxiety, and leaves me feeling like a prisoner within my own skin.

The External Battle: A Natural Resistance

We all live under a framework of rules—laws, road regulations, workplace policies, societal expectations. Most people seem to accept these as part of life, going about their days without much thought, conforming to norms, following the scripts laid out for them.

But for me, it has always been different.

I’ve never been the type to just accept things as they are. Instead, I find myself questioning, resisting, or outright ignoring rules—not out of rebellion for rebellion’s sake, but because something inside me does not align with arbitrary restrictions. It’s never been a conscious act of defiance. It’s subconscious, instinctive—a pull toward something else, something undefined, but undeniably mine.

At times, this has made life harder—not just for me, but for those around me. I’ve had family, friends, teachers, and colleagues question me with, “Why are you doing it that way?” or “That’s not how it’s supposed to be done.” As if I had a choice. As if I could simply flick a switch and conform.

And yet, this isn’t about oppositional defiance. It’s not about making life harder for myself just because I can. It’s about autonomy—about needing to feel that my choices, my path, my very existence, are not dictated by external forces but come from within me.

The Internal Struggle: My Own Barriers to Autonomy

It’s not just external controls that I resist. Over the years, I’ve realised that I’ve built my own barriers—invisible but powerful restrictions that have limited me just as much as any societal rule ever could.

• Resistance to long-term plans – The moment I commit, I feel trapped.

• Struggle to make decisions – Even when I have full control, making a choice can feel like handing over my freedom.

• Avoiding structure – Even when I know it could help, structure feels like a cage.

This is where the paradox of AuDHD (Autism + ADHD) comes into play. My autistic side craves structure, predictability, a sense of control. My ADHD side rebels against restrictions, thrives on novelty, and struggles with anything that feels too rigid. One part of me wants to build a system, while the other part wants to tear it down.

And so I have spent much of my life caught in the tension between craving autonomy and sabotaging it at the same time.

The Watch Analogy: A Symbol of Constraint

I’ve often thought about how small things can symbolise larger truths. Take something as simple as wearing a watch.

To most, it’s just a tool—a way to track time, stay organised, be punctual.

But to me? The second I put a watch on my wrist, it feels like a handcuff. Like I’ve bound myself to something outside of me—an artificial obligation to time itself. It’s a reminder that my existence is being measured, scheduled, dictated. That I am no longer free.

It’s the same feeling I get when I look at my calendar and see a full schedule, or when someone asks me to commit to something in advance. It’s not the act itself—it’s the loss of autonomy that comes with it.

Parenthood: The Greatest Shift in Autonomy

For all my life, autonomy was something I chased relentlessly. But in the last decade, something changed. My wife and I became parents. And with that, autonomy—at least in the way I once knew it—became impossible.

Before my son was born, my time was mine. My decisions were mine. My actions had no greater consequence beyond myself.

With the arrival of my so, everything shifted.

Suddenly, my primary responsibility was no longer to myself but to someone else. Every decision—what to do, when to sleep, where to go, how to spend my time—became intertwined with another life. And for someone who has spent their entire existence fighting for personal freedom, that shift was seismic.

This isn’t to say that I regret it. Far from it. My son has given me experiences that are immeasurable. He has reshaped my understanding of purpose, he’s given life meaning.

But he has also forced me to confront something I never wanted to face: the reality of living with less autonomy.

For many, this may seem obvious. “Of course, being a parent means putting someone else first.” But for someone like me—someone whose very sense of self is built on autonomy—it has been an ongoing challenge to wrap my head around.

The Paradox of Autonomy and Connection

Here’s the contradiction: I want to be free, but I also want to belong.

Autonomy is about independence, self-direction, the ability to carve out one’s own path. But human connection—especially parenthood—is about interdependence. It’s about sacrifice, compromise, and putting someone else’s needs ahead of your own.

So where does that leave someone like me? Someone whose mind needs autonomy but whose heart has chosen to build a life deeply entwined with others?

It leaves me in a space of constant recalibration—learning where to fight for autonomy and where to embrace connection.

It means recognising that autonomy doesn’t have to mean isolation—that I can still be myself while being there for those I love. It means finding ways to redefine autonomy, not as an absence of obligation, but as the ability to choose how I navigate those obligations.

Final Thoughts: Autonomy as a Lifelong Journey

Autonomy has always been, and will always be, one of the defining forces in my life. It is the thread that runs through my struggles, my growth, and my sense of self.

For many neurodivergent individuals—especially those with AuDHD—the struggle for autonomy is a constant push-and-pull between opposing forces:

• The need for structure vs. the need for freedom

• The desire for connection vs. the desire for independence

• The craving for certainty vs. the thrill of spontaneity

There is no easy resolution to this paradox. No perfect balance. Only trial, error, and self-reflection.

But perhaps that’s the point.

Perhaps autonomy isn’t about absolute freedom, but about having the power to shape our own lives, even in the midst of constraints. Perhaps it’s about finding small ways to reclaim choice—even when life demands responsibility.

And perhaps, above all, it’s about learning that true autonomy isn’t just about the ability to walk away—it’s also about the ability to stay, fully and intentionally, in the life we’ve chosen.