Over the past 12 months, a significant part of my professional development as a coach has been rooted in one key realisation: coaching, especially in corporate contexts, can unintentionally be ableist.
This isn’t about bad intentions. It’s about how traditional coaching techniques and models often assume a particular way of thinking, processing, and responding — a way that simply doesn’t reflect the lived experience of many neurodivergent individuals. Including mine.

As someone with ADHD, I’ve had conversations as a coachee where I felt switched off by the very techniques that were supposed to empower me. I’ve agreed to goals that didn’t truly resonate, driven by a sense of people-pleasing, fatigue at correcting assumptions about what I mean, or the pressure to “get something done.” I’ve even agreed with someone’s labelling of my experience as an example of “x,y,z” when it really isn’t how I saw it at all.
I’ve experienced the dopamine high of setting exciting intentions… only to crash shortly after, unable to sustain the energy or even remember why it felt so important in the moment. I’ve sat in sessions so disassociated that I was counting down the minutes, not because I didn’t care — but because I felt disconnected, boxed in, or simply overstimulated. Sometimes, it may might even be due to the excitement and then resulting preoccupation with getting started on the solution or next step after a sudden brainwave or neurons firing.
At other times, the usual rules of goal setting simply don’t work. I am not motivated by sharing a goal – quite the opposite. If I truly want to achieve something, it’s often in my best interests not to share it. As soon as I’ve shared those words with someone, they fly away on the wind. Alternatively, it may just become a task, with all fun and enthusiasm sapped from it.
As a result, I often hold back, keeping things to myself, quietly beavering away at them, enjoying each micro celebration, or giving myself a pat on the back when the end goal is achieved. That is if it’s achieved – as someone with ADHD I can often lose interest in something (sometimes because I’m quick to start something and discover I’m not truly invested) . I do sometimes return to them, perhaps months or even years later – but this isn’t the stuff of traditional goal setting models.
And yet coaching can be transformational for neurodivergent clients — if it’s designed to meet us where we are.
What Coaches Need to Know About Neurodivergent Clients
There’s no one-size-fits-all model. This is why working with an experienced coach who is able to draw on a range of techniques is vital.
With this, I want to be clear that my experience doesn’t represent everyone with ADHD, let alone the broad and diverse neurodivergent community. But here are some themes I believe are important for coaches to explore if they want to be truly neuro-affirmative:
1. Linear goal-setting may not work — and that’s okay
Traditional coaching often hinges on SMART goals, action plans, and accountability check-ins. For some neurodivergent people, this can be helpful. For others, it can be deeply unmotivating, or even anxiety-inducing. A rigid goal can become a fixed point of failure.
Instead, focus on curiosity and values. What energises your client? What feels meaningful today and what might feel meaningful tomorrow? Progress might look circular, jagged, or sporadic. That doesn’t mean it’s not valid.
2. Coachees may mask or people-please
I’ve agreed to goals that didn’t align with my deeper needs simply because I wanted to be a “good” coachee, or tired from masking or trying to be understood. I’ve nodded, agreed, and smiled — even while internally spiralling. If your neurodivergent coachee seems compliant but detached, check in gently. Ask what feels true for them. Give permission to pause or pivot.
3. Cognitive and emotional fatigue is real
Processing time matters. A question that sounds powerful on paper might be overwhelming in real life. Some days, your client may arrive dysregulated, scattered, or exhausted. That doesn’t mean they’re uncoachable — it means they need a coach who can flex with compassion and responsiveness.
4. Coaching spaces can become cognitive minefields
The pressure to identify insight, to “get somewhere” by the end of the hour, can create a sense of disconnection. For me, there have been times in a session as a coachee (and many times in business meetings too which I’m sure many can relate to) that I just wanted it to end. That’s a sign the space isn’t psychologically safe or accessible, not that the client isn’t ready or able.
5. Agency is key — but so is safety
Being neuro-affirmative doesn’t mean ignoring support needs. It means respecting the autonomy of each coachee and creating conditions that honour their strengths and challenges. You don’t need to have all the answers , this is coaching after all — but you do need to listen, adapt, and make it safe to say “this doesn’t work for me.”
How This Shows Up in My Practice
As a coach, I’m learning to:
Slow down. I resist the urge to steer toward action unless the coachee is ready.
Use flexible tools. I offer metaphors, mind maps, or body-based check-ins instead of linear goal charts.
Normalise non-linear progress. We revisit things, celebrate reflection, and name the energy ebbs and flows without judgement.
Name the power dynamic. I invite clients to shape the space, question the process, and say no.
Where helpful, I may be transparent about my own neurodivergence when it feels relevant and where the coachee has disclosed. It can help build trust and dismantles shame. However I am also mindful to not make the session “about me” and that nobody, even a coach, should feel pressured to disclose if they don’t wish to.
What I Wish I’d Known Before My Diagnosis
It’s okay that your progress doesn’t look like a straight line. You’re not broken — the system is just not designed for your brain. Coaching is meant to support you, not pressure you. You’re allowed to say “this doesn’t help” or “I need something different.”
Want to Learn More?
If you’re a coach looking to make your practice, workplace or community, more inclusive and neuro-affirmative, here are a few starting points:
📘 Neurodiversity Coaching by Nancy Doyle and Almuth McDowall – a foundational and practical guide.
🌐 Neurodiversity Hub – resources for inclusive education and employment practices.
🎧 ADHD Adults Podcast – often funny, always insightful, and very real. The Hidden 20% podcast and ADHD Chatter are also excellent.
🎓 Check out training and articles from:
The Neurodiversity Coaching Academy.
British Psychological Society’s Neurodiversity and Coaching SIG Coaching for Neurodiversity (UK-based CPD resources).
The European and Mentoring Coaching Confederation UK (EMCC UK) Neurodiversity SIG.
Ultimately, being a neuro-affirmative coach isn’t about getting it right every time. It also doesn’t mean you are delivering ADHD coaching. It’s about being open, reflective, and willing to challenge our assumptions — especially the ones that come built into the frameworks we were taught. Coaching should be a space where all minds can thrive — not just those who fit the model.
If any of this resonates, I’d love to hear your thoughts — whether you’re a coach, a coachee, or simply someone learning to understand their brain better.
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