Paulina Treanor | Neurodiversity Therapist

Around one in seven (more than 15%) of people in the UK are believed to be neurodivergent, meaning they don’t fit into expected patterns of thinking and behaving – patterns that are referred to as “neurotypical”. Neurodiversity is increasingly being recognised and acknowledged, with growing numbers of people receiving a diagnosis for Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) – including Asperger’s, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), Dyslexia and Dyspraxia. Many of these conditions can also overlap or co-occur.

Yet, despite the growing awareness of neurodiversity, many assessment and support systems remain outdated and rooted in deficit-based models that fail to capture the depth and nuance of neurodivergent experiences. As a therapist working with neurodivergent patients, I see how these systems frequently miss the mark – overlooking the complexities of masking, and failing to recognise the emotional toll of self-advocacy, and the profound impact of social and environmental barriers.

This is particularly true for autistic women and those socialised as female, who are significantly underdiagnosed and underserved by systems designed for neurotypical people. Many autistic women develop sophisticated coping mechanisms, masking traits that don’t fit traditional diagnostic models. This can lead to years – even decades – of misdiagnosis, self-doubt, and mental health struggles.

If we are to create real change, we must rethink how we assess neurodivergence and evolve our approach to support and redefine resilience. We have a responsibility to do this not just individually but collectively.

Rethinking assessments: beyond deficits to lived experience

Neurodivergence has long been framed in medicalised, deficit-based terms; treating differences as ‘disorders’ rather than valid variations in cognition, perception, and interaction. This model is particularly harmful to autistic women, non-binary individuals, and people of colour, whose presentations often differ from outdated diagnostic criteria that is largely based on white, heterosexual males.

Many autistic women, for example, become adept at social camouflaging at an early age, mimicking neurotypical behaviours to avoid exclusion. They often excel in reading social cues, at least superficially, and tend to internalise distress rather than externalising it. As a result, they are frequently misdiagnosed with anxiety, depression, or borderline personality disorder, while their underlying neurodivergence goes unrecognised.

To make assessments more equitable and accurate, we must:

• Recognise masking as a response to social conditioning, not as evidence that someone is “less autistic”.
• Shift from a pathology-based model to a needs-based one, asking: ‘What environments allow this person to thrive?’ rather than ‘How impaired are they?’
• Ensure intersectional approaches, understanding how gender, race, and socio-economic background shape neurodivergent experiences.

Evolving support: from “fixing” to co-creating accessibility

Too often, neurodivergent individuals receive support aimed at making them more “functional” within neurotypical spaces rather than focusing on adjusting environments to be truly inclusive. In education, workplaces, and even mental health settings, the goal is frequently ‘adaptation’ rather than ‘accommodation’, reinforcing the message that neurodivergent individuals must change themselves to fit into existing structures.

For autistic women, this pressure is compounded by societal expectations of emotional labour, social conformity, and caretaking roles. Many report feeling unseen and exhausted by the effort it takes to “perform normally”. This can lead to burnout, chronic anxiety, and a sense of isolation.

A genuinely neurodiversity-affirming support system should:

• Prioritise personal agency, allowing individuals to define their own needs rather than forcing themselves to fit into predetermined structures and norms.
• Move beyond surface-level ‘inclusivity’ and actually address the deep-rooted systemic biases that make workplaces and institutions less accessible for neurodivergent people.
• Acknowledge the emotional toll of advocacy, providing spaces where neurodivergent individuals don’t have to constantly justify their experiences.

Instead of offering piecemeal adjustments, we need to rethink and redesign environments with neurodivergence in mind from the start.

Building resilience: beyond individual responsibility

Resilience is often framed as something neurodivergent people must develop so they can overcome challenges. But resilience isn’t just about personal grit – it’s about the presence of structures that make thriving possible.

For autistic women, resilience is often a double-edged sword. Many are praised for their ability to “cope”, while their struggles remain invisible. They are expected to be high functioning, often at great personal cost and with little recognition of the energy it takes to maintain that façade. True resilience is not about enduring stress but instead it’s about creating the conditions where people don’t have to suffer in order to be accepted.

Resilience is built through:

• Community and belonging, where neurodivergent people feel seen, validated, and understood.
• Policy and workplace changes that eliminate barriers, rather than requiring constant self-advocacy.
• A cultural shift that recognises neurodiversity as an essential component of human diversity, not as a deviation from the norm.

If resilience is always about the individual “coping”, then we have failed to address the real issue. It’s time to move from defining resilience as ‘survival’ to defining resilience as ‘collective empowerment’.

Where do we go from here?

As a therapist, I see both the struggles that come from current thinking about neurodiversity and the incredible potential for change.

I believe we are at a turning point.

We can either continue expecting neurodivergent people to conform to rigid systems – or we can rethink those systems entirely.

The question is no longer “How can neurodivergent people fit in?” but rather “How can we build spaces that embrace neurodiversity from the ground up?”

Let’s continue this conversation. What has helped or hindered you in navigating neurodivergence? What still needs to change? I’d love to hear your thoughts.