Over a decade ago when I first created this blog, I was thinking of calling it Evil Genius. I knew I also wanted to register the domain to go along with the blog, and of course Evil Genius was long gone. Evil took me to Malign which tool me to Malignant which is where I landed. I liked the way it sounded, “Malignant Genius.” It also fit into my ethos of the time. I was railing against what I called the Super Hero Culture, which I felt was the antithesis of teamwork and collaboration. I wanted to be a disruptor. I wanted to be Lex Luthor. This may seem trivial now but at the time we were having fierce debates over working methodologies. Waterfall vs Agile. Controlling PMOs vs small autonomous teams. They were the empire. We — were the rebellion.
Looking back it seems silly, but that’s how Malignant Genius was born. And while there’s always been a bit of that disruption at play, there’s been another element as well. Call it otherness or alienation. A world view that comes from outside. The original site tagline (which I disliked), “When you think like a genius, think malignant thoughts,” was about encouraging others to look at the world through a different lens. What I was really saying was that I see the world through a different lens.
Not long ago I received a diagnosis of Level 1 Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD-1). As I’ve been learning what that means, I’ve decided to re-frame Malignant Genius. I wont claim that picking the name was prophetic but it still fits. To make that fit I’m re-framing Malignant Genius to be inclusive of Divergent Thinking. I’ll still be keeping the element of disruption. But I’ll be using this space to chronicle my journey of self discovery and what it means to be neurodiverse. Sometimes it will be small things, like the fact that I still have trouble saying I’m autistic out loud. Other times it’ll be topics like neurodiversity in the workplace.
I’m sharing this for a few reasons. 1) I believe it will help me to write my observations and have a place to look back to as I progress and learn more. 2) I was diagnosed at the age of 53. While there’s a lot of resources for those diagnosed as children or earlier into adulthood, there are fewer references for those diagnosed later. The mask that got me this far is tight and heavy. Maybe sharing my journey might help, or at least entertain, someone else.