I’ve been seeing quite a bit lately of people talking about RSD, and I had a conversation with a friend who didn’t actually know what it meant. That stopped me in my tracks a bit. I thought, why not break it down, because I know she’s not the only person who doesn’t know what RSD stands for or what it actually means for those of us who struggle with it.
If one person doesn’t know, chances are a lot of people don’t. And this is one of those things that, when you do know, suddenly so much makes sense.
SO LET’S START AT THE BEGINNING.
WHAT RSD STANDS FOR
RSD stands for Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria.
LET’S BREAK IT DOWN (WHAT IT ACTUALLY IS)
So in a nutshell, RSD is an intense emotional pain from perceived or actual rejection, criticism, or failure. It’s strongly linked to people with ADHD, but it’s not a formal diagnosis in itself. It shows up as shame, anger, withdrawal, and it’s often described as overwhelming or even debilitating.
Some people compare it to imposter syndrome, but it’s not the same thing. This isn’t just mindset. It’s an emotional response and a massive dysregulation of the nervous system. Logic doesn’t stand a chance when RSD is in the room.
AND THIS IS WHERE IT GETS VERY REAL FOR ME.
ME AND LILS HAVE IT
Both me and Lily have RSD, and it shows up for us in different but very connected ways.
For me, it tends to appear when I’m already overwhelmed or dysregulated on some level. I can misinterpret words as criticism or rejection. I can read into things that might not actually be there. When that happens, it shows up as anxiety, anger, frustration, and a really deep dip in self-worth.
I start second-guessing everything I’m thinking, saying, or doing. It suddenly feels like I’m not good enough or I don’t know enough, even though logically I do know better. But when RSD shows up, it’s like a bad smell. It follows you around and it’s really hard to shake.
WITH LILY, IT LOOKS DIFFERENT BUT FEELS JUST AS BIG.
For Lily, it often shows up when I’m trying to support her with social situations. She can experience that support as criticism. She feels like she’s being told off, that she’s in trouble, that she’s a bad person, or that she’s done something wrong, even when that’s absolutely not the case.
A big one for her is when I try to explain something like, “maybe try this instead of that.” She experiences that as me attacking what she’s been doing. For example, when she’s playing on the PlayStation with her siblings, one of them is quite vocal and direct about what they want. When they say things like “Lily do this” or “don’t do that,” Lily experiences it as an attack.
She then comes to me saying she doesn’t know what to do in those situations, so she shuts down. She doesn’t feel like she can say anything back because she’s scared it’ll turn into something bigger. That shutdown then creates agitation, overwhelm, and emotional exhaustion. It’s a domino effect.
AND THIS IS THE BIT THAT HURTS AS A PARENT.
HOW IT SHOWS UP IN MY / OUR LIFE
This is where RSD sneaks in quietly and fucks shit up without announcing itself.
For me, it shows up in messages, comments, silence, someone not replying, or someone replying with a full stop instead of an emoji. My brain immediately goes, “Cool. You’ve pissed them off. They hate you. You’re too much. You’ve said the wrong thing again.”
I know logically that’s not always true. I know that. But RSD doesn’t give a shit about logic. It’s all body. It’s all nervous system. My chest tightens, my stomach drops, my thoughts spiral, and suddenly I’m replaying every interaction like CCTV footage.
It can make me pull back, go quiet, over-explain, or swing the other way and get defensive and spiky. Then I feel embarrassed for reacting, which just adds another layer of shame on top. Fun times.
With Lily, it shows up as her shutting down or getting overwhelmed really quickly. She’ll say things like, “I can’t do anything right,” or “everyone hates me,” or “I should just stop talking.” That’s when I know RSD has walked into the room and taken over.
This isn’t drama. It’s not attention-seeking. It’s genuine emotional pain from her nervous system going into threat mode. And honestly, watching it in your child hits differently, because you recognise it. You see yourself in it. And that can be brutal.
SO WHAT CAN YOU ACTUALLY DO IN THE MOMENT?
ONE MINI THING YOU CAN DO RIGHT NOW TO RECOGNISE / SHIFT IT
This isn’t about fixing it. Trying to fix RSD while you’re in it is like trying to calm down while someone’s shouting “CALM DOWN” at you. It doesn’t work.
One tiny thing that does help is naming it out loud. Literally saying, “Oh, this feels like RSD showing up again.” Not “I’m being ridiculous.” Not “why am I like this.” Just, “Ah, this is that thing.”
The moment you name it, you create a bit of space between you and the feeling. It reminds your brain that this is a nervous system response, not the truth about who you are.
With Lily, I’ll say things like, “I don’t think you’re in trouble. I think your RSD might be loud right now.” And you can almost see her shoulders drop a little. Not gone. Not fixed. But softened. That awareness alone can stop it spiralling into shutdown or self-loathing.
AND THIS IS WHERE IT ALL CONNECTS BACK.
AND WHY THIS MATTERS SO MUCH TO ME.
Because when you finally understand what RSD is, you stop thinking you’re broken. You stop thinking your child is being “difficult.” You start seeing what’s actually happening underneath the behaviour a nervous system in threat mode, not a character flaw.
This is exactly why I created Mums Embracing Neurodiversity. It’s a space where you don’t have to over-explain, apologise, or minimise what you’re feeling. A space where you can say, “This feels massive to me,” and be met with understanding instead of judgement.
If this post made something click for you about yourself, your child, or both then you’re already in the right conversation.
Where do you notice RSD showing up most for you or your child right now?