Lilith and the midlife neurodivergent woman: Why this ancient archetype still matters

There’s an ancient figure who wanders through myth, folklore and half-remembered stories.

She slips between worlds, always a little wild, always inconvenient, always refusing to be anything other than herself.

Her name is Lilith, and she’s perhaps an unexpected, but much-needed icon for late-diagnosed neurodivergent women in midlife.

Before we dive into why she feels so relevant, it’s useful to talk about archetypes in general. Archetypes aren’t real historical figures or neat personality labels. They’re patterns of human experience that show up across cultures. They act like mirrors or inner characters.

When you meet an archetype that resonates, something inside relaxes. It’s that feeling of "oh, this is me - this is what I’ve been living without the words to express it".

For many of us who discover our neurodivergence later in life, archetypes offer a gentler, more imaginative way of understanding ourselves, without leaning on pathology or self-blame. The Lilith archetype in particular holds up a mirror to the parts of us that never fit the good girl script, the parts we tucked away because they felt too much, too intense or too strange.

A quick guide to archetypes and why they help late-diagnosed neurodivergent women

Archetypes open up language for experiences we often struggle to articulate. They help us explore identity, desire and boundaries through story rather than self-criticism or comparison with peers. For neurodivergent midlifers, especially those born and raised as females and who have spent decades masking or adapting to fit in, archetypes can feel like permission slips to be ourselves and actually start belonging.

They give shape to the inner rebels, creators, outsiders and truth-tellers we’ve always carried.

Lilith is one of the most potent of these archetypes, especially in mid life when so much unmasking begins.

Lilith’s backstory, myth and meaning

Lilith appears in several traditions, but the version many people recognise comes from Jewish folklore. She is said to be the first woman, created alongside Adam from the same earth.

Equal from the start. The story goes that Adam expected her to be obedient, to lie beneath him, to play a role she never agreed to. Lilith refused. She said they were created as equals, so neither should be above the other.

When her refusal wasn’t accepted, she didn’t negotiate or contort herself. She left. She walked out of Eden entirely rather than stay in a life that erased her autonomy. Later retellings twisted her into a demon or a dangerous nighttime terror - which tells you everything about how patriarchy responds to a woman who won’t comply.

But beneath the fear and distortion sits her true symbolism. Lilith represents sovereignty, self-definition, rebellion with integrity and the courage to walk away.

She’s the archetype of the outsider who chooses truth over comfort. The woman who won’t shrink. The one who says no - even when it costs her everything.

The connection between Lilith and neurodivergent unmasking

So many women and nonbinary folk I work with share this moment of becoming, that strange mix of relief and grief when their neurodivergence clicks into place.

They peel back old expectations. They reclaim their pace, their intensity, their sensory world, their longing for meaning. It’s deeply Lilith, this unmasking. It’s a quiet rebellion that rewrites a whole life.

Why Lilith resonates so strongly in midlife

Midlife is often when the cracks appear. Decades of masking become too heavy. Burnout arrives with a whisper that turns into a roar. Old identities stop making sense. Defining ourselves solely by societal roles and responsibilities starts to feel tight and restrictive.

Many late-diagnosed neurodivergent women find themselves questioning everything, from relationships to work to the pace of their daily lives.

This is the moment when Lilith steps in with her fierce little spark of truth, bringing light to the dark corners and shadows we have hidden and turned away from.

She shows us what it looks like to leave a story that doesn’t fit. She reflects back the quiet courage of saying, "This isn’t me anymore". She reminds us that being labelled difficult or too much often just means we’re finally living honestly.

She helps us recognise the parts of ourselves that were never the problem, only the parts that never found space to breathe.

Lilith energy isn’t chaos. It’s clarity. It’s the grounded refusal to keep abandoning yourself. It’s the boundary that says I deserve a life shaped by my nervous system, my needs, my capacity and my truth. It’s the wild yet steady return to self-connection after years of over functioning and overgiving.

If you've felt that gentle tug of recognition, even a small spark of winder or curiosity - that’s the invitation.

Not to become Lilith, but to explore where her archetype echoes inside your own transformation.

Exploring Lilith energy in your own life

Here are a few gentle ways to begin working with the Lilith archetype in a grounded, practical way.

• Journal about the moments you’ve walked away from something that wasn’t right for you

• Explore the roles you were expected to play, and which ones you never consented to

• Notice where you soften or apologise for your pace or needs

• Hold one boundary this week without shrinking back

Let yourself imagine a life shaped around your rhythms rather than external expectations

Lilith isn’t here to frighten us. She’s here as a companion for the messy middle, the mid-life awakening, the unmasking, the holy disruption.

She carries the reminder that your difference is wisdom, not flaw. That choosing yourself is not selfish, it’s necessary. And that the life you long for is not too much, it’s simply yours.

Try the prompts above and see what rises.

Lilith has a knack for stirring the parts of us that are finally ready to come home.