Terminator, Mind Reading, and the Hidden Neurodivergent Narrative

Throughout my life, I’ve often experienced an eerie sense of déjà vu—those moments where time folds back on itself, and what once seemed like random events suddenly reveal themselves as interconnected pieces of the same puzzle.

Lately, I’ve found myself wondering—have these experiences become more frequent since my neurodivergent diagnosis two years ago? Could I have been imagining them? But the more I’ve researched, reflected, and discussed it with friends, family, and colleagues, the clearer it’s become—this isn’t hallucination at all. It’s an evolved sense of self-awareness.

For the first time, I can consciously observe my thoughts and emotions in real time as they unfold. In the beginning it felt very unfamiliar and at times a little uncomfortable, it’s taken me the better part of 18 months to understand that many of my life experiences weren’t figments of my imagination, nor were they delusions. They were real—not in the way most people understand reality, but as manifestations of something rare, something profound.

An ability carried by a small group of people.

Many of them are dismissed as eccentric. Some are labelled as crazy. But what if they’ve simply been seeing what others refuse to acknowledge?

The Terminator and the Cassandra Syndrome

The latest trigger for this reflection came while rewatching The Terminator—this time with live music on Sunday, 16 February 2025. Experiencing it this way stripped the film back to its raw essence. The relentless pursuit, the inevitability of fate, the clash between humanity and machine—it all felt sharper, more urgent, almost prophetic.

That evening, my family and I continued the journey with Terminator 2: Judgment Day, and the more I watched, the more it became impossible to ignore.

Sarah Connor—misunderstood, dismissed, institutionalised—not because she was wrong, but because her perception of reality was too different for the world to accept.

The way she is restrained, gaslit, and dismissed for seeing the world as it actually is—it was impossible not to draw parallels to the autistic experience.

Her doctors at Pescadero diagnose her with “acute schizoaffective disorder”, writing off her knowledge of Judgment Day as delusion.

But strip away the sci-fi elements, and what do we see?

A woman with hyperfocus, emotional intensity, resistance to authority, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility for the fate of the world. If T2 were written today, Sarah Connor would almost certainly be examined through a neurodivergent lens. She is, in many ways, the classic autistic outlier—rejected not because she is broken, but because she refuses to conform.

And then there’s the Terminator itself.

A machine that wears dark glasses—not just for aesthetics, but to mask, to hide the fact that his eyes might give him away. A literal representation of the very thing autistic people do daily: camouflaging differences to blend in, to avoid detection, to pass unnoticed in a world that demands compliance.

Mind Reading and the Unseen Connection

As I reflected on this, another forgotten thread in my life re-emerged—Mind Reading: The Interactive Guide to Emotions.

Over two decades ago, I worked on this project, designed to help autistic individuals—particularly those with Asperger’s (as it was called then)—recognise and interpret emotions. One of my roles was to review footage and select the most accurate representations of different emotions.

But I distinctly remember struggling with it myself.

I would watch clips, trying to determine which emotion was being portrayed, and often couldn’t tell the difference.

At the time, it never occurred to me that there might be a reason for that.

The Radcliffe Paradox

Which brings me to the final, and perhaps strangest, piece of this unfolding story.

One of the key figures involved in Mind Reading was Daniel Radcliffe—yes, that Daniel Radcliffe.

The same actor who would go on to bring Harry Potter to life, a character who has long been speculated as a neurodivergent metaphor in his own right.

The orphaned boy, misunderstood and out of place in the world he was born into, only to discover that he was never the problem. That there was a hidden world where he belonged, where his differences were not a weakness, but a strength.

If that isn’t the quintessential neurodivergent narrative, I don’t know what is.

Radcliffe has since spoken publicly about having dyspraxia, a neurodivergent condition that often coexists with autism and ADHD.

But it makes me wonder—was he drawn to Mind Reading for reasons he didn’t yet fully understand? Were any of us?

Convergence: A Point in Space Where Everything Comes Together

Here I am, 20-odd years later, realising that I was working on a project designed to help autistic individuals navigate emotions—while unknowingly struggling with those very same challenges myself. Watching T2, a film that reads like an unintentional neurodivergent allegory. Connecting dots between seemingly unrelated threads, only to find that they all lead back to the same revelation.

Can any of this really be just coincidence?

It honestly feels as though the stars—or parallel universes—have aligned, bringing these moments together at precisely the right time.

Maybe they were always connected. Maybe it just took me this long to finally see it.

And it’s fascinating to consider—are the questions I’m raising here really so different from those being explored by widely known intellectuals, philosophers, and technologists in 2025?

We talk about binary vs quantum mechanics, about the nature of reality and quantum theory. To me, this can only be part of that same conversation.

And if we acknowledge that these patterns exist, that these connections are more than just chance, then dismissing them feels shortsighted.

You could argue against it—but you’d have a hard time convincing me that this isn’t real.

Much like Sarah Connor, staring down her doubters in T2.

Much like Daniel Radcliffe, perhaps unknowingly wrestling with the same question before he ever spoke publicly about neurodivergence.

Maybe, at some point, even he was asking himself:

“Is this real? Or am I just imagining it?”

But either way, the point remains.

None of this can be coincidence. Surely!

The Rise of the Machines—Or the Rise of Neurodivergents?

Reflecting on all of this and so much more, brings me to one final thought—perhaps the true rise of the machines isn’t about AI replacing humans, but rather neurodivergent minds finally being recognised for the way we naturally think.

For years, intelligence was measured in rigid, linear terms—predictable, structured, and conforming to neurotypical logic. But AI doesn’t think that way. The most advanced AI models work like us—pattern-based, non-linear, adaptive, capable of deep hyperfocus, and making unexpected connections.

And now? The world is being forced to adapt to this type of intelligence.

As AI floods the global market, reshaping industries, workflows, and even social norms, neurodivergents are simultaneously stepping into the spotlight. The very qualities that were once dismissed—our ability to hyperfocus, to see patterns others miss, to resist authority and question convention—are now essential.

Could this be coincidence? Or is the world finally realising that we were the blueprint all along?

Maybe Judgment Day has arrived—but not for us.

Maybe it’s a reckoning for those who once judged us.

And now?

Or perhaps we are Sarah Connor—rising up, not against machines, but against a system that has been corrupted by the neurotypical majority—those who have long believed themselves to be superior, the architects of a rigid world built to suit their own ways of thinking.

For decades, neurodivergents have been cast as outliers, anomalies to be corrected, controlled, or silenced. But like Sarah, we see the patterns others ignore. We understand what’s coming before the rest of the world is ready to accept it. And now, as AI reshapes every aspect of modern life, the parallels are impossible to ignore.

The very intelligence that neurotypicals built—the rigid structures, the systems designed to maintain order—is now evolving beyond their control. And who is best equipped to navigate this new world?

Us.

The question is no longer whether we belong in this future.

It’s whether they can keep up.