Writing form: personal essay
Intended readership: neurodivergent people (people with ADHD, autism, OCD, BPD, etc.), diverse young Australians
Colour is a Glimmer of Mine
Nakano Broadway is a four-story shopping complex in Nakano, Tokyo, that specialises in ‘otaku’ paraphernalia. That’s a Japanese way of saying that the store is the pearly gateway to nerd heaven; unfortunately, it reeks of unwashed men. I pushed past the sensory onslaught of sweat, dim lights, tight corridors and hurried crowds, as I had the last time I visited. Each store has its own specialty: manga, anime, video games, movies, toys, collectibles and more. What drew me through its enticing labyrinth was the pursuit of colourful toys from one of my favourite franchises.
I found an item that caught my eye, sat atop a plastic stand amongst other Power Rangers memorabilia in a lit display case. The box advertised a ‘morpher’—the devices that transform the rangers—and figures of each member. This was a series that was never adapted for the west, and it’s animal themed. Red, blue, white, green and yellow rangers combine to form Doubutsu Sentai Zyuohger. It’s a unique colour combination among ranger teams, and seeing the hues arranged tickled my brain like a mental massage.
I bought it, handed over the yen, and walked out of the store with zero doubts in my mind about my decision, except maybe how I’d fit the toy in my suitcase on the way home. It sits on my shelf now, alongside other Power Rangers toys, cute plushies and Lego displays. I’m a very mature twenty-year-old, who travels the world to bring back varyingly chromatic baubles.
I’ve had a habit of organising and amassing possessions by colour for as long as I can remember. Who else can say that as an eight-year-old, they were excited for their bedsheets to be changed between green and red versions of the same design? Innocuous enough to be left unaltered, my enjoyment of colours continued without condemnation from my family. I mean, who would tell a kid to not be excited about colours? It’s possible that my wallet would have an objection, but I’ve perfected the art of ignoring it.
The list of examples I have of my colourful quirk is an extensive one. I have a collection of Nintendo Switch controllers in red, black, blue, green and pink, the colours of Power Rangers: Dino Charge. The same colours are present in the Wild Berry Skittles, which I organise and eat in groups of five, one of each colour. Uniqlo is by far my favourite clothing outlet, as each piece comes in a rainbow of colours; I can find a jacket, shirt or scarf that I like, and then purchase it in my favourite shades! When I’m building a Lego set, I organise the pieces first by colour and then by type, culminating in a charming array of plastic that gradates as smoothly as possible. I have hatched thousands of Pokémon eggs in the pursuit of elusive ‘shiny’ Pokémon with alternate colour schemes. The above instances of fixations all illustrate my idiosyncratic weirdness, and they’re far from the only such examples.
I’ve searched my mind repeatedly for words to describe it. Obsession seems strong, it’s not as if I’m compelled by intrusive thoughts to sort things by colour. Hobby is just plainly incorrect, as it’s not an activity, but I do enjoy it. Where language begins to take hold of the concept is in the realm of a ‘special interest’ or ‘hyperfixation’, two positive expressions of neurodiversity. These once felt the closest to articulating my preoccupation with colour, but only in its emotional strength; I’m not an expert in colour as one is in their special interests, nor does it cause me to focus upon it for hours at a time without reprieve, vis-à-vis a hyperfixation.
I searched forums and Reddit threads, articles and definitions—no, it’s not synaesthesia—among autism groups and ADHD communities (the latter of which I am currently seeking a diagnosis for), until one word felt right. It was something I’m sure I’d heard of before, but never contextualised like this: ‘glimmer’. I found it in an article titled ‘Glimmers: Little Hints of Magic in the World’ by Ava Goodwin (2023), on the website More Than Quirky. What made it click for me was the identification of a glimmer as the opposite of a trigger.
Triggers for neurodivergent people can be common things like irritating clothes tags, strong smells, bright lights, rough textures and noise overstimulation, Ava Goodwin (2023) writes. I empathise, a few of those can really get to me too, and pile up to create sensory overload. Glimmers are the opposite of triggers, they are ‘holistic, full body, emotional, physical, and mental experience[s] … provid[ing] a dopamine boost, if not rush’ (Ava Goodwin, 2023).
A wonderful series of drawings follow (Secombe, 2022), depicting all kinds of glimmers. The menagerie includes crunching leaves, purring cats, collecting shells and the sound of rain—oh my gods, everyone around me knows how unreasonably excited I get when it rains! I could talk for hours about rain. These are glimmers. Colour is a glimmer of mine.
Glimmer is a quite a flamboyant word, one that I’m certain some people would laugh at, but it isn’t for them. It’s for neurodivergent people all around the world, to describe wonderful little specificities that bring joy into our lives.
There are many things that trigger me: phrases like ‘if you cared, you’d work harder’, appointments, deadlines, coarse wooden spoons, the sound of chewing and undoubtedly more. Knowing that I have glimmers, sparks of fascination and satisfaction to counterbalance my daily woes, gives me a reason to enjoy my own personal brand of strange and unusual—not lament it. I will always find glimmers of colour in each and every day.
Word count: 953
References
Ava Goodwin, J. (2023, March 30). Glimmers: Little Hints of Magic in the World. More than Quirky. https://www.morethanquirky.com.au/glimmers-little-hints-of-magic-in-the-world/
Secombe, B. (2022, August 22). Autistic Glimmers 1 [Painting]. The ND OT. https://www.thendot.com/product-page/autistic-glimmers-1
