Wicked: Part Two arrives this November, but the real magic of Part One wasn't the Emerald City or soaring vocals. It was the story underneath. How society turns difference into danger. How identity becomes performance. How the "wicked" witch was made, not born.
We know this story. Elphaba's green skin is the brilliant, overt metaphor for being "othered." We're meant to see the injustice of judging someone by how they look.
But what about the differences we can't see?
As clinical psychologists, we see Wicked's true, timely power in its accidental, yet perfect, portrayal of a neurodivergent trio. The story's central conflict is a powerful allegory for the lived experiences of autism and ADHD.
The characters' struggles and strengths map beautifully onto the lived experiences of people with ADHD and autism: the challenge of a brain wired differently, the exhaustion of constant masking, and the extraordinary power that comes when you finally stop trying to fit in.
“This isn't about diagnosing fictional characters. It's about using them as a diagnostic tool for our own empathy.”
1. Elphaba: Autistic Passion & Uncontrolled Power
First, you have Elphaba, who maps powerfully to the autistic experience. Her "difference" isn't just her skin; it's her entire operating system. She is blunt, socially “awkward,” and misses the cruel subtext of Glinda’s jokes (like the “pointy hat”).
A key trait is that her power is initially something she cannot control. It explodes from her unexpectedly—a powerful parallel to an autistic meltdown or the emotional dysregulation of unmanaged ADHD. It’s a raw, overwhelming force born from distress and sensory overload, not from intention.
Her other defining trait is a fierce, unshakeable justice sensitivity—a common characteristic among autistic individuals. When she sees the Animals losing their rights and Dr Dillamond being persecuted, her reaction isn’t just empathy; it’s visceral, physical. She has to intervene.
The Challenge:
This raw, uncontrolled power and her rigid moral compass make her an outcast. She can’t “just let it go” or “play the game,” and her unpredictable outbursts frighten people.
The Opportunity:
Her journey is about learning to harness that difference. This is where the parallel becomes so vital: it highlights the profound importance of guidance, support, and self-understanding. Elphaba needs help to see her difference not as a curse, but as a gift. Defying Gravity is the turning point: the beautiful, explosive result of her conviction, where she finally directs that overwhelming power on her own terms.
“For many neurodivergent people, that journey is familiar: learning to understand and harness a mind that once felt chaotic, only to discover it’s your greatest strength.”
2. Glinda: The 'Cure' Mindset & Social Masking
Next, you have Glinda, who is a masterful portrait of social masking. Her “Ga-linda” persona, the hair toss, the bubbly voice, the obsession with social rules is a meticulously rehearsed script. She’s not “ditsy”; she’s hyper-vigilant, constantly scanning the room to perform “neurotypical” behaviour correctly.
Her initial, smiling suggestion that Elphaba's differences can be "cured" is perhaps the most painfully accurate moment in the film. It’s the "polite" face of a society that views neurodivergence as a "malfunction" or "disease" that needs fixing.
The story's genius is that it makes the audience instinctively feel the injustice of this. We side with Elphaba. But it forces us to reflect on why that compassion doesn't always translate to our own world, where this "fix-it" mindset is common, often not from malice, but from a deep, systemic misunderstanding.
The Challenge:
The mask is exhausting. It demands she hide her intellect (she does want to study sorcery) and her empathy (she feels genuine guilt about the hat). It also drives her to pathologize Elphaba's genuine self, seeing it as a problem to be solved.
The Opportunity:
For a time, the mask works. It gives her social power. But her real journey is the slow, painful process of that mask cracking as her authentic self—her empathy for Elphaba—begins to win.
“Many neurodivergent people know this conflict well: the tension between fitting in and being real, between belonging and burning out.”
3. Fiyero: ADHD Under-stimulation vs. Hyperfocus
Finally, you have Fiyero, a perfect ode to an under-stimulated ADHD brain. His anthem, Dancing Through Life, isn't shallow; it's bored. The rigid, “brainy” structure of Shiz provides zero stimulation. His “scandalacious” behaviour and thrill-seeking aren’t moral failures; they’re a desperate search for dopamine.
The Challenge:
He’s written off — by others and himself — as a careless, shallow brat. He’s “dancing through life” because he hasn’t found anything worth stopping for.
The Opportunity:
When Fiyero finally finds something that truly engages him — a real, high-stakes cause like saving the Lion cub — his whole personality shifts. The “shallow” prince disappears, replaced by someone of deep, unwavering hyperfocus.
“That moment captures the ADHD experience perfectly: the transformation that happens when the mind finally meets meaning.”
Questions for Part Two: Who Really Gets to Be 'Good'?
Wicked: Part One sets the stage beautifully. We see characters who aren't "good" or "wicked" but deeply human—each processing the world differently.
We see cognitive rigidity in Nessarose, whose black-and-white thinking will harden into tyranny. We see relational hyperfixation in Boq, whose entire sense of self revolves around Glinda.
As we wait for Part Two (out November 21st, 2025), this lens raises powerful questions:
- What happens when Glinda's mask becomes her permanent face? What is the cost of a lifetime of masking for the public good?
- Now that Elphaba has embraced her "wicked" label, how will her unbending justice sensitivity cope with a world that demands compromise?
- When society labels passion, directness, and sensitivity as "wicked," who really gets to define what "good" is?
Your Turn: Who Do You See in the Mirror?
At Diverse Diagnostics, we believe stories like Wicked help us see neurodiversity not as disorder, but as difference—and difference as strength.
So here's our question: Who do you see yourself in?
- 💚 Are you Elphaba, whose passion and justice sensitivity the world calls "too much"?
- 💗 Are you Glinda, exhausted from years of performing the role everyone expects?
- 💛 Are you Fiyero, still searching for the thing that makes you stop dancing and start fighting?
“Tell us in the comments. And if this resonates, share it—because the people who need to read this might not know they're looking for it yet.”
Understanding your neurodivergence isn't about being "fixed." It's about being seen.
If you've spent your life feeling "wicked" for being different, maybe it's time to defy that label. A formal assessment isn't about diagnosis—it's about clarity, strategy, and finally understanding why the world feels harder for you than it seems to for others.
We're here when you're ready.
Further Resources:
- ADHD UK: adhd-uk.co.uk
- National Autistic Society: autism.org.uk
- Neurodivergent insights, stories, and support: Follow us on Instagram | LinkedIn | Twitter/X
Disclaimer: All images, characters, and trademarks from Wicked are the property of Universal Pictures and the respective rights holders. This article is an independent piece of critical commentary and analysis. It is not endorsed by or affiliated with Wicked or its creators in any way.