Good Different

Self-expression emerges as one of Selah’s most powerful tools for understanding herself, and this approach eventually reshapes others’ perceptions as well. While her masking techniques suppress her interior world, Selah uses her poetry to articulate her feelings and sensory experiences and to metaphorically “voice” the fears that she cannot yet bring herself to speak aloud. As Selah begins to engage in self-advocacy by asserting her needs and challenging people’s misconceptions, she essentially invites her community to see her more accurately. Through the structure of the verse novel and Selah’s evolving relationship with her own writing, Good Different illustrates the idea that deliberate self-expression can become a catalyst for personal empowerment and cultural change.

Poetry first appears in Selah’s life as a private refuge, a space where she can name what is otherwise unnamable. Her early poems describe her discomfort with social expectations, her fascination with dragons, and her struggle to make eye contact. In accordance with this approach, Mrs. V’s encouragement validates Selah and helps her to realize that there is nothing inherently wrong with her inner world. Selah’s poem “Dragon-Girl,” for example, declares that dragons do not hide their emotions or adhere to petty social rituals, and this piece represents her longing to cast aside the restrictive rules that she follows in order to appear “Normal” (120). Through this comparison, Selah begins to understand that the only way to find authentic acceptance is to risk displaying her authentic self, but she also takes decisive steps to challenge injustices and carve out safe spaces where the truest version of her personality will be welcomed by those around her.

When Selah attends FantasyCon, the welcoming, neurodivergent-coded people that she meets in this unique space help her to realize that she has the power to declare her needs and adopt creative strategies to cope with her overwhelm and sensory differences. Empowered by the idea that others may share her experiences, Selah signs up for an open-mic reading and dares to give voice to the poetry that has remained silent up until this point. Her poem about being perceived as “weird” reveals her vulnerabilities, but when she admits that writing helps her “feel like a dragon” (179), this image celebrates her inner bravery and receives applause and warm responses. This moment transforms her poetry into a vehicle for genuine connection. Importantly, this public reading also exposes Selah to a broader disability community, foreshadowing her later use of poetry to advocate for herself and to critique the systemic flaws plaguing her school.

When she decides to distribute her poems throughout Pebblecreek Academy, she takes an active role in her own path. She wants the poems to be “something you could reach out and feel / with your hands” (240), and it is clear that she is no longer content to hide in the shadows and let her perspective remain misunderstood. Her success is reflected in the interest of her peers, who engage in spirited conversations that prompt them to reflect on their own social experiences. Even as the principal repeatedly removes the poems, they multiply, forming a grassroots movement initiated by a single voice. When Selah openly shares a poem revealing her autism diagnosis and asserts that being different does not make her wrong, this act of self-disclosure challenges the stigma against autism and redefines how her classmates understand her identity.

Good Different illustrates the complexity of relationships among families and peers alike, suggesting that these evolving connections are constantly reshaped by episodes of misunderstanding, emotional intensity, and reconciliation. Selah’s journey is marked by moments in which harmful dynamics create a sense of distance between her and those she cares about. However, the narrative repeatedly returns to the idea that these same relationships can be strengthened if people are willing to reexamine their assumptions and admit their mistakes.

The ruptures between Selah and her peers often arise from neurotypical and neurodivergent misalignments. Her conflict with Addie, for example, is a misunderstanding that arises when Selah’s sensory overwhelm collides with Addie’s well-meaning but intrusive gesture of braiding her hair. When Selah lashes out physically at Addie, this reaction is part of an involuntary response to her own inner distress; she has no wish to harm her peer but cannot keep herself from responding to an external environment that has suddenly become intolerable. Selah’s eventual apology, which is delivered through a poem that explains the reasons behind her reaction, gives Addie the context she needs to appreciate Selah’s worldview and reach out to her as a friend. Addie’s compassionate response and heartfelt apology reflect her own maturity and growth, suggesting that relationships can be repaired if both parties approach each other willingly and openly. 

As Selah learns more about herself, she also gains the ability to repair her relationship with Noelle. Selah initially interprets Noelle’s moments of confusion or hesitation as rejection, while Noelle misreads Selah’s withdrawal as anger. Their mutual misunderstanding reflects the fragility of early adolescence, when friendship can feel conditional and uncertain, but it also outlines the dangers of making assumptions based solely upon another person’s body language, as these indicators can often be misinterpreted. When Selah finally voices her fears over the recent incidents, Noelle responds with honesty and reassurance, admitting, “Yeah, I mean, / I don’t get / you sometimes. / But so what? / Did you really think / I wouldn’t wanna be friends / over something like that?” (231). By showing Selah a bit of grace, Noelle allows the protagonist to reconsider her long-held assumption that her differences will inevitably cause her to lose those she considers to be her friends.

Just as Selah works to improve her connections to her peers, she also seeks to alter her family dynamics for the better. This aspect of the novel is primarily focused on her relationship with her mother, Sue. Much of their conflict arises from Sue’s fear of going against her own unspoken social “rules” and of making a mistake as a parent. In turn, Selah lives in fear of disappointing her mother, and the two labor at cross-purposes for much of the novel. Only after Selah shares the emotional truth behind her meltdown with Addie does Sue realize that she may have inadvertently contributed to Selah’s shame over her own differences. Later, when Sue recognizes her own autistic traits, the gap between mother and daughter narrows, opening up an unprecedented opportunity for mutual empathy. 

In each facet of Selah’s social world, the protagonist applies the important lesson that misunderstandings do not have to remain unresolved or mark the endpoint of a relationship. As Selah learns to address her concerns openly and express her emotions, she embraces opportunities to build more honest, resilient connections with those around her.