Late-identified giftedness 101

There is a tremendous amount of stigma around identifying as "gifted" as an adult. If you're thinking, "oh, poor gifted kids, must be so hard to be smart," I get it. It was that attitude, that kept this key piece of my self-understanding at arm's length for over 30 years. The fear of being perceived as conceited or—similar to how I felt in the early days of trying on my ADHD and autism identities—just plain wrong is a common reason adults who are "twice exceptional" don't even know it or suspect it and shut down the thought immediately. But let me slow down and get us all on the same page here.

Giftedness refers to people with "exceptional" abilities in a variety of categories, including intellectual, creative, and problem-solving. Children are typically identified as potentially gifted in elementary school when they do not appear to fit traditional educational models, based on test scores or observed behavior. Giftedness often—but not always, and that's important for later—involves heightened sensitivities, deep curiosity, rapid learning, and intense focus on specific interests. It's way more than "high IQ."

Many people dislike the term "gifted" because it can imply innate superiority, elitism, and exclusivity, leading to the perception that gifted folks are or believe they are "better" rather than simply cognitively different than those who are not "gifted." And while we're at it, let's look at that binary: gifted vs. not gifted. That doesn't seem very nuanced, but it does leave the door wide open for a massive group of individuals to get missed. Additionally, the term "gifted" leads to a misunderstanding of the experience as a privilege that doesn't come with unique needs or struggles, meaning that despite the additional pressure to "perform," gifted individuals are offered less support to do so.

A formative memory of mine was the gut punch I felt when I found out in fourth grade that the classmates I'd noticed being pulled out of class had been identified, tested, and selected to participate in my school's trial of a "gifted and talented" program (called GATE, TAG, etc. - acronyms vary by district; existence varies by funding available), and I was not among them. It was very secretive, and neither they nor those of us who never even got a chance to prove ourselves worthy were given an explanation as to what it meant. So we used our imaginations. They were super smart, and I wasn't, I reasoned (this was only backed up by 9-year-olds' flavor of elitism, going out of their way to say things like, "I can't go to your birthday party, I have to study that day"). I carried "I'm just not naturally smart" with me for the rest of my education, and my undiagnosed ADHD really hammered that in further. Because I could work twice as long for a B+ as my neurotypical classmates did for an A+ and pass it off as no sweat, I was put in advanced level classes, where the competitive culture taught me to associate my worth with grades. I struggled with many of the same emotional burdens of a "gifted kid" but without the same level of recognition and celebration. I, like so many neurodivergent adolescents, hovered in the "so much potential," "above average but not quite exceptional" categories, and I doggie-paddled, exhausted, to keep up with my peers who were easily swimming with broad strokes.

Twice exceptional (or "2e") is a term to describe individuals who are both gifted and either disabled or neurodivergent (or both—as we know, they are not mutually exclusive). They decided to give it its own name because intersecting traits can mask or complicate one another, leading to misperception, misdiagnoses, and, well, trauma.

The irony of "twice exceptional" is that while it aims to put a magnifying glass on the intersection of disability and giftedness, it actually requires that we think about these two things as distinct categories. Additionally, combining the two in the 2e framework emphasizes differences euphemistically. "Exceptional" is akin to "special," as in "special needs," which implies needs that are abnormal and replaces the term "disabled," implying it is an offensive word rather than a neutral descriptor. "Twice" indicates that it is exceptional that you are disabled and it is exceptional that you are gifted. Look at all the ways you stand out; let's give you an identity defined by your differences and hope it doesn't have any social impact down the road. I've even heard a guess from someone unfamiliar with the term that it meant that it is exceptional that someone so disabled could also be so smart. Yikes!

Some people prefer terms like "neurodivergent with intellectual intensity" or simply "complex learners" to avoid the hierarchy of the 2e and gifted labels, but others find value in the terms because they make advocacy, support, and self-understanding more accessible. Think of it as parallel to the second "D" in ADHD: we know "disorder" doesn't align with the neurodiversity paradigm, and many of us don't consider it to be a disorder, but if we used the proposed alternative—Variable Attention Stimulus Trait (VAST)—no one would know what we were talking about, we might be perceived as elitist, or worst of all, we might be accused of "trying to make 'fetch' happen" (/s). Because there is no consensus in either community, I will use the default terms here.

While our story begins with controversy around each of these terms, I want to emphasize that this is about so much more than semantics. The language debate highlights a deeper issue: since these are the most common words we have, they shape the average person's understanding of who gets to identify with them.

Overlooked in childhood

My stepmother used to say there was something "off" about me. In hindsight, most of her comments were referencing my "spiky profile," or seemingly paradoxical strengths and challenges: "You write all this poetry, but you can't do your own laundry" was critical, not curious, shaming when just a slight shift could've been the key to unlocking self-understanding. This is a common recollection of many neurodivergent adults, 2e or not. I share it because it was the perception of something being "off" but not quite a problem, different but passable, smart but not a genius, that kept adults from digging any deeper. What else keeps children and adolescents who are, in fact, gifted from being identified alongside their peers?

• High masking ability: Many gifted children learn to compensate for executive functioning struggles or sensory sensitivities through intellectual strengths, making challenges less visible but also making adults think twice about their capabilities

• Asynchronous development: When kids show advanced abilities in one area while lagging in others, adults, like my stepmother, perceive them as "average" or even "difficult."

• Behavior misinterpretation: Traits like hyperfocus, sensitivity, and perfectionism may be seen as defiance, laziness, or anxiety rather than signs of cognitive difference

• Educational mismatch: Standardized tests and rigid educational systems prioritize compliance and consistency, overlooking out-of-the-box thinking and divergent learning styles. Not to mention if your strengths lie in, say, language, but are below-average in math, a binary lens on giftedness ("you are or you aren't") won't cut it.

• Gender and cultural bias: Girls, BIPOC students, and those from lower socioeconomic backgrounds are disproportionately under-identified due to systemic biases.

Off our radars in adulthood

What keeps the "gifted" or "2e" identity out of reach in adulthood, when we are theoretically no longer beholden to educators and caregivers to tell us who we are? Ironically, lack of education, mostly. Even though we know neurodivergence often masks giftedness for 2e individuals at any age, early experiences often teach us that if we were truly gifted, someone would have noticed, and this belief is reinforced by praise received for hard work rather than intelligence. Most people don't realize that giftedness is more than IQ and is not a fixed, rigidly defined thing that you either are or aren't. If they even wonder about it after graduating from the K-12 education system, adults typically figure that if they weren't told they were gifted in childhood, they simply weren't. And because it's so associated with education, once we leave academia it stands to reason that we just wouldn't find it relevant anymore.

Then there's the stigma.

The fear of seeming arrogant keeps many from claiming the label, especially when societal values prioritize humility or productivity. If we're so "gifted," why don't we have the income, the career milestones, the stereotypical presentation of "success" to prove it? The just-world myth really has people believing that those who "deserve" rewards will get them, and those who don't have them don't deserve them. Even if we don't buy into this, it's painful to be in a position to defend ourselves to those who do.

In adulthood, when intelligence is judged by tangible output rather than inner complexity and external validation is complicated by things like networking and the economy (in contrast to the honor roll certificates of our youth), it becomes more difficult to recognize or trust one’s own mind. For those who prioritize curiosity over achievement or who feel existentially out of sync with peers, this disconnect can fuel self-doubt. Emotional baggage tied to unmet potential, pressure, or feeling misunderstood further complicates the desire to explore or own this identity. As a result, many adults continue to see giftedness as something that belongs to others, even when it quietly shapes their entire experience.

Cultural discourse around intelligence is often more about ego and dominance than genuine intellectual ability. In Internet comment sections, “stupid” is usually shorthand for being wrong, disagreeable, or socially out of step — traits that have little to do with cognitive capacity. Meanwhile, those labeled “smart” are often praised for confidence, quick responses, or rhetorical skill rather than depth of thought. This framing rewards self-assuredness over reflection, making intelligence seem like a performance rather than an internal experience, a metric of social capital rather than a way of being. For adults trying to understand their own minds, this adds confusion, as public conversations rarely reflect the nuanced reality of being gifted. Slow, complex thinking or intellectual humility can appear less intelligent in these spaces, leaving many wondering if they’re truly smart or just “overthinking” things. In this distorted context, giftedness feels elusive — more like a title bestowed by others than a way of being.

Subtler indications of giftedness

If you find yourself wondering now, with a new perspective on what it means to be gifted, whether this identify might fit you, it's worth exploring some of the following unconventional indicators that hit on not just what it means to be gifted but also how we come to cope with the challenges it poses, even unconsciously. I hope it goes without saying that identifying with some of these experiences is not a surefire way to confirm something so important about your self-understanding. There are plenty of alternative conclusions to draw about why you experience the constellation of experiences that you do, but giftedness should be on the table. You deserve the chance to see all the possibilities, not just those granted to you by people with power and a narrow lens. Consider it a screener; that is, if you can relate, it's probably worth digging deeper into with someone who knows the ins and outs of giftedness.

• Complex, layered communication: Frequent use of metaphors, analogies, or storytelling to convey complex ideas, tendency to over-explain or "spiral" into tangents when processing thoughts aloud

• Depth of thought in unusual areas: Strong interest in niche or obscure topics that others overlook, deep philosophical or existential questioning from a young age, hyperfocus on understanding people, relationships, or emotional dynamics

• Sensitivity to inconsistency or injustice: Noticing subtle contradictions in others’ statements or societal norms, discomfort with hypocrisy, even in minor, everyday situations

• Unconventional problem-solving: Solving problems through unconventional or non-linear methods, preference for inventing their own system or approach rather than following established methods

• "Overexcitability" in specific areas:

  • Intellectual: insatiable curiosity and need to keep learning

  • Imaginational: rich inner world, daydreaming, or creating elaborate scenarios

  • Emotional: intense emotional reactions, often misunderstood as overreacting

• Struggles with "basic" tasks: Highly capable in complex areas but struggles with executive functioning, like keeping track of time or following routine steps, difficulty starting or finishing tasks unless there is deep personal interest

• Avoidance of recognition or underplaying abilities: Downplaying achievements or avoiding opportunities for fear of standing out, framing intelligence as "just being curious" or "just working hard."

• High tolerance for ambiguity: Comfort with abstract or paradoxical concepts, fascination with "gray areas" where there is no clear right or wrong.

• Relational complexity: Desire for deep, meaningful relationships but feeling isolated due to differences in thought processes, difficulty in small talk or surface-level interactions

Unique mental health considerations for late-identified gifted adults

Gifted adults who come to understand their giftedness later in life face unique mental health challenges that stem from years of misunderstanding themselves and feeling misunderstood by others. And that's on top of any other late-discovered neurodivergent identities they may hold. Many grow up with a sense of "otherness," noticing they think more deeply, feel more intensely, or struggle with things that seem effortless for others. Without the framework of giftedness to understand these differences, they may internalize negative narratives, believing they are broken, lazy, or perpetually falling short. This can lead to heightened vulnerability to anxiety, depression, and self-esteem issues. For late-identified individuals, the realization that giftedness was always part of their identity can bring both relief in finally having a lens that makes sense of their experiences and grief for the years spent feeling isolated or underachieving in environments that didn’t fit their needs.

Twice-exceptional (2e) adults often face additional layers of mental health complexity. The coexistence of strengths and struggles can create profound cognitive dissonance, where external performance doesn't reflect internal potential. This gap can fuel imposter syndrome, emotional dysregulation, and burnout, especially when high standards are self-imposed or reinforced by societal pressure. Many late-identified gifted adults also experience existential depression, wrestling with questions of meaning, purpose, and justice that others may not share or understand. Traditional mental health approaches can feel invalidating if they don’t account for intellectual overexcitability, asynchronous development, or the sometimes-insatiable need for intellectual stimulation. Therapy that addresses not just emotional well-being but also the intellectual and existential needs of gifted adults is essential for fostering a more holistic sense of mental health.

Additionally, gifted adults are likely to struggle with differences in relationships that are best tended to through an affirming lens. For example, a gifted partner may feel frustrated when their deeper thoughts aren't fully understood, while their partner might feel overwhelmed or inadequate, each individual more likely to project their emotions onto the other if they don't have an understanding of the problem's origin. Differing interests can also pose an issue: one partner may crave deep discussions and analysis while the other prefers more practical or emotional engagement. The more analytical partner may favor logic and abstract reasoning when making decisions and struggle with others' prioritization of emotions or lived experience. Feeling unseen or unappreciated is a common relational experience for gifted adults who feel lonely in their inner world while their partners may feel dismissed or judged. Finding a shared language to communicate complex thoughts (such as via metaphor, leading with the bottom line, or accepting partial understanding) can help bridge some of these gaps, as can appreciating different strengths, creating intellectual outlets elsewhere, discussing needs openly, and watching out for subtle power dynamics.

It's not necessarily all sunshine and rainbows once the late-identified gifted adult works their way through grief and starts intentionally meeting their relational needs differently Those who are used to engaging primarily with people who do not "keep up" with them intellectually may struggle when interacting with those they perceive as equally or more intelligent because it disrupts their sense of identity and competence. When they’re accustomed to being the most insightful or fastest thinker in the room, their intelligence often becomes a core part of how they value themselves. Engaging with equally gifted or smarter individuals can trigger imposter syndrome, self-doubt, or fears of inadequacy, as they are no longer the "expert" or "explainer." Additionally, being surrounded by those who process just as deeply can feel overwhelming, and they might struggle to keep up, feel pressure to perform, or worry that they are not as unique as they once believed. This shift can be disorienting, causing some to retreat or avoid situations where they feel intellectually vulnerable.

What does giftedness and 2e have to do with eating disorders?

Eating disorders in gifted adults often reflect the complex intersection of intellectual intensity, emotional depth, and a need for control in a chaotic or overwhelming world. For gifted individuals, the mismatch between their inner experience and external environment can create deep feelings of alienation, perfectionism, and self-criticism. Many gifted adults experience intellectual maturity that far outpaces emotional or physical development, leading to a sense of being "out of sync" with themselves. In this context, disordered eating can emerge as an attempt to regulate overwhelming emotions, cope with existential distress, or impose structure where life feels unpredictable. The mind-body disconnect that often accompanies giftedness, where one’s body feels like an inconvenient vessel for a restless or overactive mind, can further complicate the relationship with food and body image.

Late identification can intensify these dynamics. Adults who spend years believing they are "too much" or "not enough" often turn to disordered eating as a coping mechanism long before they understand the root cause. Discovering giftedness later in life can bring clarity, but it can also trigger a period of identity reconstruction. During this time, eating disorder behaviors may worsen as individuals process the grief of missed understanding, the fear of embracing a stigmatized identity, and the pressure to "make up for lost time." Healing requires an approach that addresses the intellectual, emotional, and sensory complexities of gifted individuals, validating both their struggles and the unique way they experience the world.

An upcoming blog post will focus entirely on the intricacies of the rarely-discussed gifted-eating disorder intersection.