Rest Is Resistance: Reclaiming Summer and Navigating Burnout as a Neurodivergent Queer Person

Summer burnout is real. Here's how to stop fighting yourself and start reclaiming the season.

Summer Isn’t Always the Vibe

It’s the season of sunshine, late nights, loud music, and good vibes only. Or at least, that’s the message everywhere—from commercials and social media to coworkers asking, “Got any fun plans?”

If your nervous system hears that question and thinks “Fuck, I hope not,” you’re not alone.

For many neurodivergent queer people, summer isn’t freeing. It’s overwhelming. It’s hot and sticky and loud. It’s too many expectations, too little structure, and a pressure cooker of FOMO and sensory overload. If you’ve ever found yourself hiding in a bathroom at a barbecue or needing a full day to recover from a single social event, you’re not broken. You’re tuned in. Check out that body, pointing out your needs, being a source of wisdom and information.

Neurodivergence, Sensory Overload, and the Myth of the “Fun Summer”

Let’s break this down. Sensory sensitivity is common among neurodivergent folks—including Autistic people, ADHDers, folks with sensory processing disorder, PTSD, or chronic pain. And summer? It’s a whole season of unfiltered input:

• Sunlight so intense it feels like you’re being interrogated by the sky

• Humidity that makes clothes feel like wet weights

• Fireworks that don’t care if you have misophonia or trauma

• Social expectations stacked on top of already-depleted executive functioning

There’s also the deep discomfort of being expected to enjoy it all—to “just relax” in environments that don’t always feel safe or accessible. That expectation alone can stir up shame, especially for folks socialized to believe that “normal” people love the pool party, the Pride parade, the late-night concert, the spontaneous road trip. And if you don’t? You must be doing something wrong.

Even people who don’t identify as neurodivergent can hit a wall in summer. Too many plans, too much noise, too little downtime—it catches up with everyone eventually. The difference is that neurodivergent folks may reach that threshold faster, or feel the effects more intensely. But the cultural expectation that summer must be fun, carefree, and endlessly social? That pressure can wear down anyone.

Let’s name it clearly: you’re not doing summer wrong. Neurodivergent summer burnout is a real thing.

Pride and Pressure: When Liberation Starts to Feel Like Obligation

It’s okay if you’re tired. Of the heat. The noise. The social plans. The expectations. The pressure to love summer when your brain and body are just done.

It’s okay if you’re watching your calendar fill up with Pride events (in September, Virginia—we see you) and wondering: How long does party season last?

It’s okay if your answer is: Too long.

We want to say this clearly: deep love and gratitude to the organizers and volunteers who make Pride happen. We’re especially grateful to Nick at Cville Pride, who took the time to meet with us and explore how Divergent Path Wellness could collaborate and be part of the celebration. It takes heart and grit to create spaces that celebrate queerness, especially in regions where that celebration is hard-won. Your labor matters. Your joy matters. You’re building something powerful. We hope to see folks at Cville Pride this year—we’ll be raffling off sensory-friendly self-care items for people who stop by and share what affirming mental health care means to them.

And—it’s also okay if your body or brain can’t join in this year. If the music’s too loud, if you’re touched out, if you’re grieving, or if you just don’t have the energy to be visible right now, you’re still part of the community. Pride isn’t a test you pass by showing up to everything. It’s a spirit of resistance and belonging that lives in you—even when you’re resting.

Pride was born out of protest, grief, and refusal. But what gets sold to us now is performance—rainbow capitalism, aesthetic queerness, and an endless demand to be visibly celebratory. For those with chronic illness, mental health struggles, mobility issues, or sensory processing differences, “showing up” can become a full-time job.

So if you're watching from the sidelines this year—or skipping the event entirely—you still count. You are still worthy of celebration.

Pride can look like rest. Like taking your meds. Like texting a friend when you’re spiraling. Like opting out of the party and into your sensory cocoon. Like saying, not this time, but I'm still here.

Rest Is Resistance, Not a Luxury

In a culture that idolizes productivity, rest is radical. That’s not just a buzzword—it’s survival.

The neurodivergent brain often works overtime to regulate, translate, and anticipate. If you’ve been masking for years, saying yes when you meant no, or powering through burnout until you crash, your body may not know how to stop. You may associate rest with laziness. You may even feel guilt when you take a break—even though your entire nervous system is waving a white flag.

That’s not your fault. That’s internalized capitalism. And if we've internalized the ongoing pressure to perform, to hustle, to keep saying yes—ask yourself: Who benefits? Who profits from your exhaustion? Who gets to stay comfortable when you disappear into overwork or burnout?

Reclaiming rest is about honoring your own rhythms, not someone else's expectations. It's about disrupting cycles that treat bodies like machines. It's about remembering that rest isn’t passive—it’s protective.

You might try journaling on one of these prompts:

• What does rest look like for you? Not in theory, but in practice?

• What beliefs about rest have you inherited that no longer serve you?

• If you fully trusted that your needs were valid, how might you spend your time differently?

You deserve rest that’s rooted in self-trust—not shame.

If you're looking for liberatory, anti-capitalist summer reads that affirm rest and embodiment, we recommend Rest Is Resistance by Tricia Hersey and The Body Is Not an Apology by Sonya Renee Taylor. Both are powerful reminders that your worth is not tied to your productivity—and that reclaiming your body and time is deeply radical work.

We live in a society that rewards output over well-being, busy-ness over balance. When you choose to rest, especially in a body or identity that’s been historically marginalized, you’re rejecting a system that never had your wellness in mind.

What Reclaiming Summer Can Look Like

So what does reclaiming summer actually look like? It’s different for everyone, but here are a few guiding principles that might help:

1. Start with Sensory Support

Protecting your sensory needs isn’t picky—it’s protective. Consider:

• Noise-canceling headphones for fireworks or crowds

• Sunglasses and hats for sun sensitivity

• Breathable fabrics and a cooling towel for heat regulation

• Loop earplugs at events

• Fidget tools and stim toys to self-regulate in overstimulating environments

You can build a sensory go-bag with what you need to feel grounded.

P.S. If you’ll be at Cville Pride this year, stop by our booth—we’ll have sensory-friendly self-care items and a raffle for folks who share what affirming mental health care means to them.

2. Create Gentle Routines

Without the usual structure of school or typical work rhythms, summer can feel unmoored. For neurodivergent brains, predictability brings safety. Even a loose daily rhythm (wake, hydrate, meds, movement, meals, rest) can help your nervous system breathe easier.

If planning is hard, tools like GoblinTools or How to ADHD offer executive function support.

3. Challenge Internalized Productivity

Notice when rest feels "bad." Ask yourself:

• Who taught me that I’m only valuable when I’m producing?

• What would I say to a friend who needed rest?

• What does my body actually need right now?

Compassionate books like How to Keep House While Drowning by KC Davis offer an affirming reframe: care tasks are morally neutral. You are not a bad person because your brain needs rest.

4. Choose Joy on Your Terms

If joy feels inaccessible, aim for comfort. What feels good to your body? That might be a sensory swing, a solo picnic, a rewatch of your favorite show. If joy does show up—lean in. Let yourself have it, even if it’s not the Instagram version.

Joy doesn’t have to be loud to be real.

5. Practice Saying No (and Yes, Selectively)

You are allowed to say no to the things that drain you—even if others expect you to show up. And you’re allowed to say yes to the quiet, weird, or unconventional things that bring you peace.

Try this script: “Thanks for the invite! I’m keeping things low-key this week, but I hope you have fun.”

You get to set limits that honor your needs. No explanation required.

You Deserve Relief from Neurodivergent Summer Burnout

Summer doesn’t have to be a three-month-long endurance test. It doesn’t have to be a highlight reel. It can be slow. Tender. Weird. Honest.

If you need permission to rest, here it is: You are not behind. You are not broken. You are responding appropriately to a world that was not built with your nervous system—or your full humanity—in mind.

This summer, choose rest. Choose refusal. Choose what aligns with your values—not just the ones you were taught to chase.

Want Support Reclaiming Rest?

You don’t have to do it alone. Our therapists at Divergent Path Wellness understand what it means to navigate a world of “shoulds” when your brain and body speak a different language.

Whether you’re looking to unpack internalized productivity, explore neurodivergent-affirming tools, or just build a version of adulthood that works for you, we’re here.

When you connect with a liberation-oriented therapist they're not going to ask why you’re “wasting” the summer. We’re more interested in how you’re surviving—and how we can help you thrive.

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By Helen Dempsey-Henofer, LCSW, ADHD-CCSP

Want support creating a summer that centers your needs? Schedule a free 15-minute consultation with a therapist at Divergent Path Wellness—available to teens 14+ and adults across Virginia.