Unlearning Normal

I saw a post that stopped me mid-scroll.

It said something like:

“When you see a bunch of fruits, and there’s an apple and an orange, you don’t judge the orange for not being an apple.”

Simple. But it sat with me.

We accept the orange as an orange. We don’t criticize it for not being crisp like an apple or smooth like a grape. We just… accept it.

And it made me wonder:

Why don’t we do the same with people?

Especially when it comes to neurodivergence, people whose brains are wired differently, not wrongly. I’ve been leaning into that word lately.

Autism.

ADHD.

Synesthesia.

These aren’t flaws to be fixed. They’re frameworks. These words used to feel like labels. Now they feel like lenses, ways of seeing the world differently.

And honestly? That difference is beautiful.

I’ve seen how the world talks about people with these conditions, like they’re problems to be solved instead of people to be seen.

But some of the smartest, most fascinating, most deeply human individuals to exist are autistic, neurodivergent, or wired in ways I don’t fully understand. Not despite how they’re wired but because of it.

And that’s the point.

They’re not broken.

They’re not “less.”

They’re not weird.

They’re intentionally crafted; by a creative, thoughtful God who doesn’t make mistakes.

“Fearfully and wonderfully made” doesn’t come with an asterisk.

It doesn’t mean uniform.

It means intentional, each and every time.

It’s been humbling to realize how much I’ve been trained to judge what I don’t understand.

And how much I’ve missed because of that.

But I want to see people how God sees them.

Not through the lens of “normal,”

but through the lens of intentionality, even when it looks like something unfamiliar.

This space, this blog, is where I want to be honest.

Where I speak not as an expert, but as a student.

Learning how to embrace the fullness of God’s creativity, in every mind, body, and being.

So no, I won’t judge the orange for not being an apple.

I’ll just be glad this world holds both.

And maybe that’s how I should see people, too.