The Tragic Truth of Being Gifted: Misunderstood and Marginalized
Imagine a world where humans can only see three colors: black, white, and red. Imagine seeing plants and trees in shades of gray. Imagine the sky appearing only in grays and pinks — especially at sunrise and sunset. Imagine gazing out at an ocean or a lake, perceiving only hues of dark gray.
Imagine all this is normal, and those humans marvel at their beautiful oceans, trees, and sunsets.
Now imagine, in this Red World, you were born with eyes that can also see blue. Looking up at the sky, or into the deep sea, you’d see sapphire tones instead of gray. To your eyes, plants and trees would appear more textured and colorful. Unlike others, you could distinguish between people with blue eyes and hazel. You’d more quickly spot perky blue delphiniums or medicinal borage on a distant hillside. You’d have a unique appreciation for the splendor of peacocks and the variety of irises. You alone would be able to see purple.
Or imagine you could see yellow. Sunlight would take on an entirely different quality for you compared to the Reds. You’d spot venomous snakes more quickly than your neighbors. Since you can see yellow (and therefore orange), you’d be better at identifying ripe fruits and vegetables. Like Blue Seers, you could see a wider variety of reds — useful in distinguishing healthy blood from sick, and hot-enough fires from dying ones.
Then imagine what it would be like to have eyes that see blue and yellow on the Red World. You would see all the colors, and your rainbow world would be vastly different from the Reds’.
Not only would it be vastly different, neither you nor the Reds would realize how different. As a Blue child, you might ask your Red parents why the sky looked that way, but feel unsatisfied when their answers don’t make sense. As a Yellow child, you might earn praise for always knowing when the bananas were ripest but feel confused that no one else could “get it”. As a Rainbow child, you might love creating art about butterflies but feel frustrated that the available colors of paint and paper don’t allow you to fully express your inner vision. You might enjoy talking enthusiastically about how a friend’s eye color changes with their mood or outfit but feel ashamed when others make fun of you … or call you crazy.
On the Red World, these Colorful children grow into Colorful adults who are viewed as eccentric, neurotic, intimidating, or arrogant. Reds see them as “different” in some vague way that’s both “too much” and “not enough”. Many Colorfuls never realize they can see more colors than everyone else, and that the Reds can’t see what they can. They internalize the negative messaging of Red Culture and conclude that they’re wrong, broken, alien, or delusional.
Some Colorfuls decide that other people must be too stupid, too lazy, or too stubborn to see blue or yellow. Some learn to not talk about colors, and conclude life is mostly hard and they’re destined to be outcasts. Meanwhile, other Colorfuls gaslight and train themselves to not see other colors at all, and even join the Reds in bullying Colorful people.
This is what it’s like to be gifted.
***
Like on the Red World, gifted people come in many different “colors” on ours — different flavors, magnitudes, and combinations of genius. Our lived experience is diverse and intersectional. Not all of us grow up carrying painful burdens like the Colorfuls, and it’s true that being gifted bestows tremendous advantage in some contexts. But the common assumption that gifted people have it easy and live charmed lives is far from accurate. Among the many gifted people I’ve met in person, on stage, or on page, a significant majority struggle like the Colorfuls — some even more so, myself included.
The tragic truth is that being different in modern society leads to marginalization and suffering, even — sometimes especially — when the “difference” is considered a strength.
The tragic truth is that being different in modern society leads to marginalization and suffering, even — sometimes especially — when the “difference” is considered a strength.
There are other misconceptions about giftedness. Most people don’t know that “G’s” aren’t just “smart”. My favorite definition of giftedness, and one of the most common today, was crafted in 1991 by the Columbus Group, a consortium of gifted educators and parents. They called giftedness “asynchronous development in which advanced cognitive abilities and heightened intensity combine to create inner experiences and awareness that are qualitatively different from the norm”. This advanced cognition includes greater complexity in thinking and perceiving, and faster speeds of processing more information.
Asynchronous development, also known as “spiky” development, is a key element of this definition and the gifted experience. It means we’re fast/brilliant in some areas, and slow/underdeveloped in others. We sometimes struggle with cognitive tasks outside our zone of genius, and commonly struggle with social behaviors or relationships. We can even find the basics challenging. A gifted six-year-old might play Mozart on the piano but have trouble tying their shoelaces. A gifted eight-year-old might read 11th grade biology books but have difficulty making friends or following directions to a neighbor’s house.
Gifted people can literally “see” blue and/or yellow in a world of black, white, and red. But not all of us see the rainbow, and sometimes we struggle with “red.” Some of us are gifted with words or artistic pursuits (“blue”), while others are gifted with numbers or spatial thinking (“yellow”). Some Gs “see colors” we don’t have words for (gifted in intuition, spirit, ESP). But most gifted people aren’t gifted in all areas, and we aren’t all high achievers.
Gifted people can literally “see” blue and/or yellow in a world of black, white, and red. But not all of us see the rainbow, and sometimes we struggle with “red.”
These differences and disconnects often cause confusion, frustration, and unfair expectations, both for other people and Gs ourselves. Such “asynchrony” continues beyond childhood, causing bewilderment, conflict, and hurt in our romantic partnerships, families, and workplaces.
These challenges are partly physiological in origin — certain areas of G brains are literally larger and more complex than others — but also social and cultural. At only 3–5% of the human population, gifted people are neurodivergent. This isn’t only because we’re a neurotype with “differently wired” brains but by definition: we are a tiny minority who diverges from the norm.
As a minority, we face challenges like those faced by other numerical minorities. We’re often the only one like us in a classroom, team, or peer group which contributes to our feelings of isolation and not fitting in. We inhabit a world that wasn’t built for us, so we shoulder the burden of having to constantly figure out rules that don’t come naturally, and change our behavior to accommodate others. We must regularly “codeswitch” and translate our experience for ourselves and others in order to function. While these challenges exist to some degree for most humans, they’re greatly amplified for minorities and necessary for survival when minority status confers lesser power.
While these challenges exist to some degree for most humans, they’re greatly amplified for minorities and necessary for survival when minority status confers lesser power.
What further complicates giftedness as a minority identity is two things: (1) Gs can usually hide our difference, and (2) sometimes our difference grants us more power. Like other neurodivergents, we mask. Like other neurodivergents, our traits are often pathologized and seen as negative — in fact, some of us are misdiagnosed as autistic or ADHD (while others of us are both gifted and neurodivergent in other ways, which is called “twice exceptional”, or 2e). Still, our asynchrony confuses people (I’ve been accused of being deceptive more than once) and our “superpowers” can cause others to fear, envy, or resent us as often as they make our lives a bit easier.
The “qualitatively different” gifted experience also involves a distinct “personality structure” that most people (including Gs) aren’t aware of. Part of the gifted personality/neurotype is high sensitivity, which for some manifests as overexcitabilities (OEs). These are the “intensities” referred to in the Columbus Group definition, which make us particularly sensitive and responsive to internal and external stimuli in at least one of five areas. Overexcitabilities aren’t unique to Gs — we share them with other neurodivergents (especially ADHDers and autistics) and Highly Sensitive People (HSPs).
On the Red World, being a Colorful with OEs is like seeing all colors more brightly or with neon intensity. A Yellow with one or two OEs might see more hues of yellow than a Yellow without OEs, while a Yellow with three or four OEs might also see yellow moving. A Blue with four or five OEs might be able to hear blues as well as see a wider variety of shades than Blues without OEs.
Having these “powers” sounds pretty cool to Reds. But gifted children and adults, particularly those with overexcitabilities, are especially susceptible to trauma because our sensitivity is turned way up. In fact, according to the Columbus Group, “the uniqueness of the gifted renders them particularly vulnerable and requires modifications in parenting, teaching and counseling for them to develop optimally.” Unfortunately, few parents, teachers, or counselors are up to the task. Most of them are Reds and therefore unable to recognize the uniqueness of the few Colorfuls in their midst, or they’re Colorful themselves and uneducated about what that means.
Sometimes, those rare Colorful G parents and teachers aren’t up to the task because, like the G they intend to mentor, they carry “gifted trauma”. Gifted trauma is injury that happens because of one’s giftedness. Many Gs, me included, carry “regular” trauma on top of gifted trauma. Since giftedness is largely genetic, many of us shoulder the burden of generational gifted trauma from being poorly parented by gifted parents who were traumatized themselves for their brilliance or oddness, and therefore punish, shame, or suppress those traits in their children.
Even sufficiently healthy parents and competent teachers often assume precocious kids are “fine” and don’t need much guidance, emotionally abandoning them to navigate the terrifyingly bizarre Red World unmentored. I’m an “OG” — my term for a person identified as G in childhood (which is pretty gangsta!) — who can attest to the lasting impact that abandonment has on a gifted person’s development, especially when it’s exacerbated by trauma.
As a Colorful adult coming to new understanding of my G-ness in midlife, I can also attest to the special brand of hell suffered by the hundreds of gifted people who struggle to make ends meet, find a suitable partner, make friends, or achieve meaning and purpose in a Red World. This suffering is made worse by the expectations placed by family, school, work, and culture on those identified as gifted to DO MORE, and BE THE BEST. We’re taught it’s our obligation to become superheroines because we happened to be born with superpowers.
We’re taught it’s our obligation to become superheroines because we happened to be born with superpowers.
We get this message even if no one says it directly to our face. Our culture claims to celebrate and revere gifted people, but that reverence is typically reserved for two colors of giftedness: STEM and athletics. These are the folks bestowed with the most praise, trophies, magazine covers, and funding. But there are so many more “colors” to giftedness than those.
Not only are most gifted people marginalized from the most celebrated circles of our culture’s “genius”, but we’re often excluded from one of our own communities — neurodivergents. One reason is that neurotypicals mostly define neurodivergence in disability terms (autistic, ADHD, PTSD, personality disorders, etc.). But this framework is incomplete, and reinforces the marginalization of neurodivergents because “disabilities” are only considered pathological in a social context where the “disabled” person must navigate a world that hinders them and devalues their difference.
Gs experience similar hardship, because even though some of our abilities are considered strengths, in practice they’re just as often “disabilities” because we’re misunderstood, marginalized, or completely unrecognized like Colorfuls on the Red World. Most people don’t understand what we’re talking about when we unmask. Some judge us as manipulative instead of naïve, conceited instead of enthusiastic, or critical instead of oblivious to our own brilliance. People often become annoyed with our meticulous attention to detail, or frustrated with the way we provide solutions to problems they can’t even see. They shrink from or fawn over our uncanny abilities. They counsel, cajole, or criticize us into being more focused, less intense, less sensitive, or more productive.
This is hard for everyone. For the G, it’s devastating. It’s heartbreakingly lonely. It’s traumatizing. It can turn a mutant into Magneto instead of an X-Man.
This is hard for everyone. For the G, it’s devastating. It’s heartbreakingly lonely. It’s traumatizing. It can turn a mutant into Magneto instead of an X-Man.
To be fair, most Gs recoil from the “marginalized” label (a common reaction in marginalized people). Many also shrink from the “gifted” label — in fact, discussions about alternative labels are vigorous and frequent in gifted communities. The issue is the superior tone the “gifted” label confers, which most Gs dislike. Ironically, this allergy to superiority seems to be a feature of both marginalization (a survival impulse to avoid threatening the dominant majority) and giftedness. While gifted people can be just as depraved and sociopathic as the general population, most of us tend to be highly ethical and empathic, so the audacious haughtiness of claiming a word like “gifted” doesn’t sit well.
But sometimes our resistance is driven by hidden grief. Owning the “gifted” label can bring sadness about what went unlived, what got missed, and what was endured alone in the dark. Oddly, the grief can also be about lost hope and purpose. Many Gs believe that if they can just explain it right, Reds can see other colors. Many think that if Reds just try hard enough, they can perceive the rainbow.
But it’s not that they won’t — they can’t. Reds can’t see other colors because they’re lazy, obstinate, or delusional. Their eyes just don’t have the capacity. This realization can be deeply unsettling and make a gifted person feel even more alone.
In reality, the false belief about others’ capacity is championed by our culture, which prescribes toxic positivity, growth mindset, and endless striving as antidotes to any obstacle. But the truth — which is especially inconvenient for societies that profess to value democracy and equality — is that not everyone has the same capacity. Not everyone can grow or develop to the same degree. And no one can be anything they choose.
People are not equal. Some people are more intelligent than others. Some are more capable in certain areas than others. Some have bodies that can do things other bodies cannot. Some exude more integrity or demonstrate stronger character. Some people can see colors beyond black, white, and red, and others simply can’t.
But it’s not that they won’t — they *can’t*. Reds can’t see other colors because they’re lazy, obstinate, or delusional. Their eyes just don’t have the capacity.
Ability, however, is not *worth*. Better “at” is not the same as better “than”.
Ability, however, is not worth. Better “at” is not the same as better than. Thanks perhaps to the invention of agriculture, then the industrial revolution, and competitive capitalism, at some point we began conflating people’s worth with (certain) ability. But this was a mistake that doesn’t serve the majority. A world where every person is believed equal in ability and potential sounds lovely, but it’s a trap that sets everyone up for failure — some because expectations are too high and others because they’re too low. However, a world where every person is deemed equally, innately worthy regardless of ability is actually lovely.
I think humanity is smart enough to figure out how to regard each person as innately worthy, judge each person based on their actions, and adjust the bar to match their abilities. As a lifelong anti-racist and former DEI professional, I understand the complexity involved in identifying people’s capabilities, and the perils in doing so, given our spectacularly sinister history. But refusing to adequately recognize, understand, support, and develop all the gifted people in our midst takes a major toll on our collective thriving, discovery, creativity and joy.
Gifted people will always be neurodivergent, but we need not be misunderstood and marginalized. Everyone learning, recognizing, and communicating everything that giftedness entails will allow more Gs to find ourselves and each other. Normalizing factual comparative language about giftedness (like “Gs think faster, deeper, and in more complex ways than most people”) will reduce our shame and unnecessary appeasement. And cultivating curiosity more than fear and disgust will serve us all.
***
Now, let’s re-imagine that Red World.
It’s a world where most humans can only see three colors: black, white, and red. A world where a handful of humans can see blue, or yellow, or both. And a few of those who see colors dance and hear them sing.
Now imagine that the Elders teach everyone that Blues, Yellows and Rainbows walk among the Reds. The Elders explain what this means, and the gifts the Colorful bring. They teach parents to express curiosity and shower love on children that show Colorful traits. They instruct teachers to ask their “different” students meaningful questions and praise their pursuits. The Elders encourage everyone to bring potential Colorfuls to a Colorful Elder for guidance and training.
On this Red World, imagine that mistreatment of Colorful kids — of all kids — is taboo and brings swift consequences. Imagine that Colorful adults know where to find other Colorfuls in their community. Imagine Red workplaces that allow Colorfuls to contribute their unique abilities to inventing new tools for information tracking and analysis, creating new health diagnosis techniques, and making special traffic lights or road signs. Imagine the benefits to horticulture, medicinal plant knowledge, animal husbandry, and ecosystem stewardship. Imagine the incredible Colorful works of art that everyone could enjoy, in different ways.
Now, imagine making our blue planet more like that Red World.
