It's been an honour to work with many neurodivergent clients in my therapy practice.
Together, we've explored topics such as identity, self-acceptance, burnout, emotional connection, and the challenges of navigating a world that isn't always designed for neurodivergent minds.
One increasingly common experience I support clients through is a late diagnosis of neurodivergence. Many adults are discovering—sometimes after years of self-doubt—that they are autistic, have ADHD, dyslexia, or identify with other forms of neurodivergence.
Whether you've recently received a diagnosis or are simply exploring the possibility that you may be neurodivergent, therapy can be a valuable space for understanding yourself and building a life that works for you.
For many adults, the journey begins with a question:
Am I neurodivergent?
This moment of self-inquiry can be powerful—and unsettling. You might recognise yourself in some descriptions of neurodivergence but feel unsure whether they truly apply to you. Often, it sounds something like this:
I've always felt different somehow. Now that I'm learning about neurodivergence, a lot of the signs resonate—but I don't fit the stereotypical image of a neurodivergent person. I have good relationships. I've learned to cope in many areas of life. Do I still count?
Wrestling with these questions can be destabilising. You may feel like you're on the edge of claiming a neurodivergent identity but aren't sure if you have the "right" to do so. Many people experience what's known as imposter syndrome in this process.
As a therapist, I often support clients in navigating these feelings. Whether or not you pursue a formal diagnosis, the most important thing is to arrive at a place of self-understanding and self-acceptance that feels true to you. Some people seek an official assessment because it offers clarity and validation; others may choose not to, for personal, financial, or systemic reasons. Both paths are valid.
Discovering you're neurodivergent—whether through a formal diagnosis or self-identification—can be life-changing. For many people, it explains aspects of themselves that have long been confusing or painful.
There's often a profound sense of relief:
I'm not lazy. I'm not broken. There's nothing wrong with me.
This realisation can bring about self-compassion, and it often allows people to stop holding themselves to neurotypical standards that were never meant for them.
But there can be grief, too. You may mourn time lost, opportunities missed, or wonder how different life could have been if you had known sooner. It's common to worry about what this means for your future:
Will this affect my career?
Will people see me differently?
Can I still have the relationships I want?
The simple answer is that your future can be brighter than ever.
Self-knowledge empowers you to create a life that honours your needs. Small changes, like adapting your environment or adjusting expectations, can have a huge positive impact on your well-being. Many neurodivergent people find that life becomes easier, happier, and more authentic once they embrace their differences.
For many clients, a key concern is how "visible" to be about their neurodivergence.
Should I tell my friends and family?
Should I disclose at work to ask for accommodations?
How do I explain my needs without feeling vulnerable or exposed?
These are complex, personal questions without one-size-fits-all answers. In therapy, we can explore your values, boundaries, and options—helping you decide when, how, and if you want to share this part of yourself.
Another important area of work with neurodivergent clients involves emotional connection. Neurodivergent people experience the full range of emotions, but the way they process, express, or even notice those feelings may be different.
Many clients I work with describe feeling disconnected from their emotions, sometimes as a result of masking (hiding their differences to fit in) or growing up in environments where their authentic selves weren't fully accepted.
In therapy, we can:
Explore emotional awareness and regulation
Develop ways to express feelings safely and authentically
Rebuild a compassionate relationship with your emotional self
My approach is integrative, meaning I draw on a variety of therapeutic tools to meet your unique needs. Sessions move at a pace that feels comfortable for you, and I'm always open to adjusting how we work together. This could include:
Clear structure and predictable sessions
Using creative approaches like mindfulness, drama techniques, or body-based practices
Focusing on self-advocacy and practical strategies
Creating a sensory-friendly space (whether in-person or online)
I aim to create a therapeutic space where you feel safe to be yourself—where there's no need to mask, no pressure to conform, and no judgment.
You're in the final stretch. Your time studying in Paris — whether it's been months or a year — is coming to an end. It's a strange, chaotic limbo of finishing exams, packing boxes, and navigating a complex swirl of feelings… or perhaps, a kind of numbness.
The first moment I can remember thinking like a conspiracist, I was seven years old. I was watching The X-Files.