Close your eyes and picture an apple. What do you see? If your answer is “nothing,” you might have aphantasia—a condition where the mind’s eye is essentially blind. You know what an apple is, but you can’t visualize it. No color, no shape, no shine. Just the idea of apple.
If your apple is so vivid you can practically taste it? You might have hyperphantasia, the opposite condition—where your mental imagery is so rich and intense it can be overwhelming.
Chances are, you grew up assuming everyone’s imagination worked the way yours does. That’s the kicker: most people don’t realize how differently we all see, feel, and experience the world—literally.
Yup. It’s a neurodivergent trait that affects how people process imagery, memory, learning, and even relationships.
People with aphantasia often say things like:
“I didn’t know people could actually picture things in their head.” “When I close my eyes, it’s just black.”
While people with hyperphantasia might say:
“My daydreams are like IMAX movies.” “Memories feel so vivid it’s like I’m back in the moment—sometimes painfully.”
It can be disorienting to learn your brain processes the world in a way others can’t fathom. But like all forms of neurodiversity, this isn’t a flaw—it’s a difference.
If you have aphantasia, you may:
If you have hyperphantasia, you might:
Let’s talk feelings.
People with aphantasia often describe their emotional responses as “flattened” or hard to access—not because they don’tfeel, but because they can’t summon a memory or image to trigger it. This can make grief, nostalgia, or even love feel strangely… muted.
On the flip side, those with hyperphantasia might:
Because aphantasia and hyperphantasia aren’t commonly understood, they can create disconnects in relationships, classrooms, and even therapy.
Imagine:
Understanding how you perceive the world is key to explaining it to others—and getting the support, patience, or accommodations you need.
In LGBTQ+ spaces—where so much of our identity is about self-awareness, expression, and emotional connection—understanding your mind’s eye (or lack of one) can be profound.
Because maybe it’s not always in the eye of the beholder.
Maybe it’s in the way we listen, learn, love, and lead—seen or unseen.