You could sit across from me in a counselling room or hear me speak at a conference, and never know what makes it possible.
I found out later in life that I’m AuDHD: Autistic and ADHD. I also live with PTSD and complex PTSD, sensory processing differences, PMDD (a severe hormonal mood condition) and hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. For most of my life, people missed the needs I was quietly working around.
Not absent. Missed.
I built a life that fits how I work, before I had names for some of my needs. And it worked.
I started Neurodivergent Empowered, a registered NDIS provider, and The Nest in Caloundra. I’m a neuroaffirming registered counsellor and behaviour support practitioner, and I lead the charity Sparkly Aliens Inc. I wrote FREE 2B ME: Less fixing. More living., the first of eight books. I’ve spoken in London and Paris, won international awards and played hockey for Australian Country. I am a solo mum and earning top grades in my Masters.
None of that happened in spite of how I work. It happened because I built my life around it. I choose how I communicate, set my own pace, shape my spaces and keep good people in my corner. Adjustments don’t give me a head start. They put me on the same starting line as everyone else. Capability with adjustments is still capability.
For me, that’s sovereignty: deciding how my life works, with the support I choose. It doesn’t mean doing everything alone.
This year, I learned how fragile that is when someone else gets to decide.
When disclosure changes how you’re heard
During my Master’s, my progress depended on other people’s decisions. I told them about my diagnoses, believing it would help them understand what I needed.
Disclosure is meant to share an access need. It can end up feeling like handing over your credibility.
You share private things, trusting it will help people understand you. Then you find yourself defending what you know about yourself.
I corrected the very documents meant to support me, asking that unclear instructions, time pressure, noise and lighting be named as what made things hard, not me. I explained again and again that I can do my job well, and asked for direct answers to my concerns.
I wasn’t asking for lower standards or a head start. I was asking to start from the same starting line as everyone else.
Slowly, it felt like what other people thought about me mattered more than what I told them I needed. When it all got too much, like anyone, I was upset. And it felt like being upset was treated as the problem, instead of the things that had upset me.
I had gone from the person explaining the problem to the person being treated as the problem.
My daughter and my team see me fight for them and for our clients. This year, they also saw me hit my knees while fighting for myself.
If you’re a parent, this may sound familiar
Your child may cope well in one place and struggle in another. Noise, pace, instructions, changes between activities and room to move can all change what they can do and show.
Adults may see refusal, shutting down or tears. A good response starts with curiosity. What did your child need? What were they trying to tell us? Who could change what was around them? The answer isn’t always the environment; health, skills, support and relationships matter too. But when distress is all adults notice, your child’s own explanation gets lost.
I’m nearly fifty, with qualifications, a business and a voice, and I still found this overwhelming. Our children have fewer choices and less say. Some communicate in ways adults haven’t learned to understand yet. Their chance to join in should never depend on explaining their needs in the way that suits us.
Children need ways to learn and show what they know that work for them. Does your child really have to prove understanding out loud, on the spot, in front of thirty classmates? What could we see if they had another way?
They also need room for friends, curiosity, rest, play and the things they love. Their lives are bigger than what adults measure.
Three questions to ask your child’s school
- What does my child need to show what they can do?
- Who decides that, and does my child get a say?
- When my child is upset, does anyone ask what happened before deciding what it means?
At home, believe your child when they say something is hard, even when nobody else can see it.
Beyond what you can see
This Invisible Disabilities Week, look past the achievement and past the distress. Ask what’s around each, whose voice is heard and who can change what happens next.
Every human deserves to remain the primary authority over their own life. Support can help make that possible.
I want our children to inherit more than encouragement to be themselves. I want them to grow up where they can communicate differently, need help, disagree and still belong.
No one should have to hide who they are to belong.
Less fixing. More living.
About the author
Tanya Hicks is the founder of Neurodivergent Empowered and The Nest in Caloundra, and the creator of FREE 2B ME: Less fixing. More living. An author, speaker, counsellor and behaviour support practitioner, she brings lived experience as a late-identified AuDHD woman and mother together with professional practice to build places, practices and pathways where people can belong without becoming less of themselves.
