Musings of a neurotypical coach

Lady showing humility

I used to pride myself on sensing what was going on beneath the surface of individuals I worked closely with, for example in a coaching capacity. However, I discovered that this is not true with neurodivergent people because they are often heavily masked in their interactions with me. I thought that I was a mastermind at building trust and creating safety for others. I badged this as my superpower until I discovered that I could unwittingly make others anxious rather than safe.

Neurodivergent persons are continually told that they are wrong, too much, lazy, rude, should try harder, and so on. This constant battering puts them on alert for danger (more negative messaging and rejection) so that many live in a state of heightened anxiety in which they try to second guess whether their words or deeds were appropriate or misunderstood. So, it’s not surprising that they suppress and submerge who they are with their unique gifts and needs to conform to what can seem like arbitrary neurotypical rules and unexplained social etiquette. How often are you really interested in the answer to ‘How are you?’

I thought that I could cut through this with my innate ability to form strong bonds with others so that neurodivergent people with whom I connected would feel safe to be themselves. I learnt the hard way that this is not the case. This is because things that I say or do can have unintended consequences.

For example, I thought it would be useful to get some focus in a mentoring session that I was having with a young person with ADHD. But I did not signpost that this was my intention and counter to our previous interactions I interrupted their download of all the things that had happened since the last time we met to ask how I could most be of support. Whilst the intent was to ensure they got the most from our interaction, my execution was poor. So, they felt that I was angry with them and became subdued. I wasn’t angry at all but because I had decided to disrupt our normal way of operating, I probably came across as abrupt or brusque. Fortunately, we had sufficient emotional capital and trust that they could tell me that’s how they felt and I could explain my motives and gently coax them to continue with their download. The lesson for me was not to take unilateral decisions and to have a conversation with them about what was working well/less well for us both in our interactions. I didn’t do that and it then meant I had to work hard to regain our equilibrium.

I have discovered that simply stating my hopes, concerns, desires, expectations, can put a neurodivergent person in a spin. This is because they want to please me or not receive criticism or approbation from me. I naively thought that I could express my hopes as something I was aspiring and also show some vulnerability. When I have done this in the past, it has led to a deeper level of conversation as it prompted us both to reflect on subconscious thoughts and feelings that we may not have recognised let alone expressed. In an exploratory conversation with an autistic person, I declared that I wanted to build a strong relationship in which they felt they could unmask safely with me.  I later discovered that they had knew that they would not be able to unmask in my presence, however, I had no indication of that at the time. Masking in action!

Another expectation I had was about the way we communicated. I thought I was being flexible because I’m fine with whatever medium works for the other person. However, I do have a bug bear if people are unresponsive to messages I have sent to them or become radio silent. Neurodivergent have poor working memory which means that they cannot retain information in the short term. For example, an email received that requires a response may be forgotten due to other messages arriving in their inbox. Unless the neurodivergent person has a system for ensuring that they respond to emails, I could be left with my question unanswered, leading me to feel undervalued, disrespected, etc. This has happened to me in helping relationships, or an individual has not shown up to our session, not communicated with me and not responded to my subsequent enquiries about their wellbeing.

I wanted to establish some ground rules about how we might work together and was indirectly stating an expectation that our communication was proactive. When I have raised it in other relationships, it seemed to have landed well.  In this case, however, my comment led to concern for my autistic colleague that they might drop the ball and thus disappoint me. Unwittingly, I had increased their level of anxiety about the relationship, which was not my intention.

I am eternally grateful that both neurodivergent individuals they were open and direct with me about the impact that I had had on them. One person did this in the moment, whilst the other chose to tell me at our next meeting after they had reflected on our conversation. If they hadn’t shared their feelings, I would have continued in my own merry way, deluded that I had created the best environment for our relationship. One thing that stood in my favour is that I had formed a strong enough bond that the individuals felt safe and trusted me. They were able to express themselves knowing that I wouldn’t blow up in some way and make them feel wrong for being honest.

My learnings from these encounters are:

·       Don’t take what I see and hear at face value. As a coach I am trained to listen on a deep level and to take in cues from body language, tone, speed, shifts in energy etc. However, neurodivergent people are continually masking to fit in with neurotypical norms and to please others (usually at their expense). This means that I won’t always be aware of the impact I am having.

·       Be curious in the other person. As a result of the first point, I cannot rely on my intuition and gut instinct alone. I need to be genuinely interested in the other person and how they tick. By asking questions I can gain insights about them that helps me learn how to best relate to them and vice versa.

·       Be authentic and ask for grace. I want connect with neurodivergent individuals in a meaningful way and create positive experiences in which they feel seen, heard and valued. In my desire to do that I try hard to say and do the right things and be intentional about creating a welcoming and supportive environment. In doing so, it is important to be myself and ask for grace if I get something wrong. The neurodivergent people I know relax into our conversations because I do.

·       Don’t lose yourself. It is easy to reflect on the things that don’t work and try to eliminate them from our practice. I’ve learnt that rich learning can emerge from gently encouraging neurodivergent people to try things that may not come easily by finding creative ways of arriving at the same destination. For example, instead of shying away from asking an autistic person with alexithymia to tune into their bodily sensations, inviting them to use cards to identify their emotions.

By opening myself up to the experiences of the neurodivergent people I have encountered, I have grown enormously as a human being. I hope the same can be true for you too.