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INT Is My Dump Stat: Behind The Scenes

2025-12-12

A Neurodivergent’s Guide to Presenting When Your Brain Won’t Stop Second-Guessing

The Invitation That Changed Everything

A few months ago, I co-presented at the SANS CloudSecNext Summit about staying sharp after certifications by engaging in some fun, light-hearted competition. I mentioned in passing that I’d just passed my GCIH. The whole room started applauding.

I cried a little.

After that session, folks from SANS approached me. They saw something in my energy, my story, my weird theatre-kid-turned-cybersec-professional vibe. And they asked if I’d be interested in presenting at the Neurodiversity Summit in December.

I said yes before my brain could talk me out of it.

The Problem with Having Too Much Time

Here’s something nobody tells you about being neurodivergent and having months to prepare for something: you will overthink everything.

I had the framework. I used this D&D-to-cybersecurity to map my own life. I knew my story. I knew my stats. I knew my message.

But knowing your content and crafting a 30-minute talk that lands emotionally while also being informative and also being entertaining and also not being too long and also hitting all the right beats and also—

You see the problem.

I spent more hours than I want to admit moving images back and forth by literal pixels in Canva. I’d get a slide “perfect,” then look at it the next day and hate it. I’d write a script, read it out loud, decide I sounded fake, and start over.

The AuDHD brain is excellent at hyperfocus. It is terrible at knowing just when to S T O P.

Finding My Voice (With Help)

I couldn’t have done this without Jared.

Not just as a hype person (though the hype was essential), but as a genuine thought partner. When I’d get lost in the weeds of “should I explain all 13 classes?” he’d ask, “What’s the emotional core here?” When I’d spiral about whether I was being too casual or not technical enough, he’d remind me: “Bruh, your authenticity is the whole damn point.”

The breakthrough came when I stopped trying to write a cybersecurity talk and started writing a permission slip.

Permission to have a non-linear path, permission to have a dump stat. Permission to belong.

Once I framed it that way, the rest fell into place.

The Night Before

I didn’t sleep well. (Any other 3am’ers out there?)

I ran through the slides one more time. I tested my camera, my mic, my internet connection. I set up my space with my dog Rue nearby (one of the perks of virtual presenting — emotional support animals are allowed).

I told myself: “You’ve lived this. You know this. Trust yourself.”

I mostly believed it.

The Presentation (What Actually Happened)

The good:

  • The Slack channel was incredible. Watching people engage in real-time, share their own stats, ask questions, say they felt seen — that kept me going.
  • I hit the emotional beats. When I got to “The Party Needs You” slide, I got emotional. It felt like I was reaching back in time and telling 25-year-old me, 35-year-old me, struggling-in-my-career me: You’re not broken. The party needs exactly what you bring.
  • People laughed at my jokes? It’s hard to tell but I think they landed.

The messy:

  • I dropped my phone. On the floor. MID-PRESENTATION. It was loud. I just laughed and said something like “Over here, just dropping things” and kept going. Theatre training, baby.
  • I was running out of time and had to skip a few things. I sped up more than I wanted to. My pacing wasn’t as deliberate as I’d practiced.
  • My heart was pounding SO fast right before we started. Pure adrenaline. I forgot to drink any water for the entire 30 minutes.
  • I felt like the slides were lagging when I clicked through — I should have practiced the actual clicking-through motion more.

The honest truth: While it wasn’t perfect, it was real. And real > perfect, especially for a talk about authenticity and neurodivergence, duh.

What I’d Do Differently

  1. Practice the technical clicking-through. I’d rehearsed the words, but not the actual mechanics of advancing slides in Zoom. That threw me off.

  2. Give myself permission to cut things in the moment. I’d prepared for 25 minutes but was running long. I should have made peace with cutting a section instead of speeding through everything.

  3. Breathe more. Drink water. Basic stuff, but my nervous system was so activated I forgot all of it.

  4. Stop preparing a week earlier. At some point, more rehearsal becomes diminishing returns and increased anxiety. I needed to trust myself sooner.

What I’d Keep Exactly the Same

  1. The vulnerability. Talking about rejection, tears, and dump stats was terrifying. It was also why people connected.

  2. The dog. Having my pup nearby grounded me in a way nothing else could.

  3. The framework itself. People are still reaching out telling me they’re rethinking their “weaknesses” as dump stats. The metaphor works.

  4. Saying yes before my brain could talk me out of it. Fear of public speaking almost stopped me. I’m so glad it didn’t.

The Aftermath

I’m still glowing, y’all.

People keep reaching out on LinkedIn. Connection requests. Comments saying they were inspired, that they feel like they know themselves better now.

💬 “Liz really touched me and made me understand my imposter syndrome for the first time ever. I feel ready to go slay dragons!” — Heather

💬 “Joined Slack just to thank Liz Gore for your amazing talk.” — Amber

💬 “You brought tears to my eyes.” — Victoria

💬 “I feel so understood.” — Ramah

💬 “This was so emotionally inspiring.” — Chad

That’s why we do this.

Not for the CPE credits (though those are nice). Not for the resume line item (though I’m definitely adding it!). For the person in the audience who needed to hear that their brain isn’t broken.

What’s Next

The recording will be on YouTube soon — I’ll share the link when it’s live.

All my resources are at lizgore.com: the character sheets, the class descriptions, and the quiz to find your class.

I’m also building a Discord server for this community. A place where neurodivergent cybersecurity folks can find their party, share their builds, and support each other. Stay tuned.

And if you’re reading this thinking “I could never present at a conference” — yes, you can. You’ll drop your phone. You’ll run out of time. You’ll forget to drink water.

You’ll also help people. And that makes all of it worth it.

Find me at lizgore.com, or on TikTok @accidental.it.guy

Your brain isn’t broken. You might just be using the wrong framework. 🎲