The room is intimate, closed in by off-white walls and textured grey carpet. This event is meant to open doorways for budding writers and journos as we “network” with prospective future employers.
Hands are being shaken, index fingers are tapping name tags and every conversation begins with “So what do you do?”, “Who do you know?” or “Tell me more about yourself.” I take a deep breath because for me, events like these are a nightmare.
I am a neurodivergent Muslim woman of colour with borderline personality disorder (BPD). Networking confuses me and I hate small talk.
I glance at the seating arrangements. I’ve been placed next to a stranger. My heart thunders in my chest as my mind races through self-taught tips:
- Don’t be stand-offish
- Ask people who they are and what they like
- If you are confused or an answer doesn’t interest you, be subtle in changing the topic
- Above all, don’t relate everything back to your disability
One thing I have learnt is talking about disability makes people uncomfortable. No amount of reposts on social media or hashtags change this reality. Networking events are not exempt from this.
I spend the event watching people’s body language and facial expressions become uncomfortable as I fumble over my words. One of my BPD traits is that if I’m feeling overwhelmed, clear communication, reassurance and a two-minute breather are necessary for me to get back on track. How do you slip in, “Hey, I’m really overwhelmed right now, be right back” without making a total fool of yourself?
My neurodivergence impacts every moment of my life, and not knowing whether networking events are safe spaces to be authentic is nerve-wracking.
I find that often talking about disability at professional events either makes others uncomfortable or lead them to applaud the equity quotas their company has introduced. I’ve had managing directors say to me, “I want you people to know that we’re ok with you.”
As a neurodivergent person, I perceived that networking required me to get people to like me. This is not an exclusive experience of neurodivergent people but while someone who is not neurodivergent may also experience difficulty in establishing and maintaining relationships, my neurodivergence adds an extra layer of bias and difficulty. This struggle is heightened when a person is open about their neurodivergence like I am. BPD already has a bad reputation, with those who experience it often stigmatised as being socially inept or manipulative.
Lina Ali (right), with a friend after a networking event. Source: Supplied
I love spreading awareness about neurodivergence but the added pressure at networking events, of ensuring managers and others understand me and my boundaries, is overwhelming. While not everyone who has a conversation with me will instantly think about my BPD, there is always a lingering doubt that I am being dismissed because of my BPD. I recognise my feelings of doubt are not the responsibility of attendees at networking events but it cannot be denied that these feelings result in me working extra hard to get people to like and see me for more than just my BPD.
For me, conversations at networking events are a means to an end to create contacts for work purposes. But rarely have I conversed with someone at these events and believed their interest in my work as a writer and podcaster was because they enjoyed my content. Instead, for some reason I’ve felt that the work I have done needs to be perfect beforehand and only then could I weave it into conversation at an event.
As someone with BPD, my flight or fight response can be extremely intense. At networking events, my flight response is almost always triggered
This feeling of inadequacy is not without basis. I already feel like an outsider as a minority Muslim woman. Disability masking and employment discrimination is real. I didn’t receive my diagnosis until I was in my late teens and looking back now, the confusion with never quite knowing how to be charming or being “too loud” and too much of a hassle has followed me since kindergarten. As someone with BPD, my flight or fight response can be extremely intense. At networking events, my flight response is almost always triggered, adding an extra barrier to understanding social cues.
This is why networking often sucks for me. There’s little room for error and starting over is not an option. I constantly check in with myself: “I said ‘X’ to this person. Oh no, was that rude?”
At the same time, people’s discomfort and comments such as, “It’s remarkable how talented disabled people are,” at these events makes me aware stereotypes surrounding the careers of people with disability continue to place us in boxes.
But the reality? We exist in all spheres of society. And I will continue to create change by taking up space, expressing myself and my needs and changing the culture by being unapologetically myself.
Lina Ali is a freelance writer and arts/literature student at Sydney University. You can follow her on Instagram , or LinkedIn.
She is also a 2022 Createability Intern, working as a Diversity and Inclusion Research Assistant in the SBS Television and Online Content Division.
