The Sunflower Lanyard: Support, Visibility, and Uncertainty

The Sunflower Lanyard, also known as the Hidden Disabilities Sunflower, is meant to show that a person may have a non-visible disability, condition, or need for extra support. It is recognised in places like airports, shopping centres, transport services, and other public spaces. On the surface, it seems like a simple idea, but for me, the reality of wearing one feels much more complicated.

As someone with AUDHD, I have thought seriously about getting a sunflower lanyard, yet I still feel unsure about whether I could actually wear it. Public places can be overwhelming for me, especially when anxiety and sensory overload build up at the same time. Part of me feels that something as small as a lanyard could make those moments a little easier and make leaving the house feel less daunting.

Wearing the lanyard could quietly let staff and other people know that I might need more patience, understanding, or support. I think one of the biggest reasons I keep considering it is that it might help me feel less self-conscious about things like stimming or struggling with eye contact. Instead of feeling like I have to explain myself all the time, it could offer a small sense of relief in situations that already feel hard enough.

In the best situations, staff might respond with more time, clearer communication, a place to sit, sensory support, or practical help during travel and long queues. That kind of understanding could make a real difference. At the same time, I know this only works if people recognise the lanyard and know how to respond in a respectful way. It also highlights a bigger issue: so many public spaces are still not designed with neurodivergent people in mind, and that burden often falls on individuals to manage.

I can see how the lanyard could be especially helpful in places like airports, public transport, hospitals, shopping centres, and events, because those environments can be exhausting, stressful, and overstimulating. If it helped people feel more understood, it might ease some of that stress and make it possible to feel calmer and safer when going out. In that way, something so small could make everyday life feel a little more accessible and a little less draining.

At the same time, one of the hardest parts is knowing that not everyone understands what the lanyard means. Some people may notice the sunflower and not think anything of it, while others may misunderstand it completely. Awareness is inconsistent across countries, workplaces, and communities. Although there is some discussion online, I rarely see broader public education about it, and that lack of understanding makes the lanyard feel less reliable than it should be.

What makes me hesitate most is the possibility of being stared at, questioned, judged, or treated differently for wearing it. Some people who use the lanyard have spoken about those experiences, and that fear is difficult to ignore. There is something deeply uncomfortable about needing to make my differences visible just to receive the patience or support that should be available in the first place. That tension is what leaves me so unsure.

Ultimately, my feelings about the sunflower lanyard reflect a larger problem: support should not depend on whether someone is willing to visibly identify themselves in order to be treated with care. The lanyard has the potential to offer comfort, understanding, and access, but it also reveals how much responsibility is still placed on individuals to navigate spaces that are not made with them in mind. For me, the question is not only whether I would wear one, but why that choice has to carry so much weight in the first place.