Many neurodivergent people struggle with not being seen. Often because neurodivergence still doesn’t carry a positive image in society. Or because they don’t want to explain, again and again, why they react differently.
Invisible – or overlooked?
Neurodivergence can show up in many different forms, often in ways that are misinterpreted. The typical stereotypes (autistic people can’t hold eye contact, people with ADHD can’t sit still, dyslexic people can’t read fluently, and many more) are almost never true.
Instead of dwelling on these, I want to shed light on connections. So here are three examples of what neurodivergence can show up – and how you, as the other person in a dialoge, can respond:
1. Long-winded explanations
If someone takes the time to explain something to you in great detail, it means either the topic or you matter to them. Probably both. For many neurodivergent people, having a strong reason is necessary to tackle tasks or develop enthusiasm. Sharing that reasoning with you is a form of connecting.
How to respond: Listen. A small, curious question is often enough to build a sense of common ground. “Geeking out” together creates belonging.
2. Pedantic precision
Someone points out the tiniest rule deviation from the rules and you wonder why. For many neurodivergent people, patterns and processes act like an internal map. Deviations stand out immediately and can feel like real risks.
How to respond: Thank them for the input. Simply being heard already helps. Ask whether – and why – this detail might be important. Often, it leads to valuable insights and a deeper mutual understanding.
3. Quibbling over words and misunderstandings
Sometimes neurodivergent people take language very literally. But the deeper issue is this: two people interpret the same question differently. For example, “What can you contribute?” is often understood by neurotypical people as “What would you like to contribute?”. A neurodivergent person may read it as “What would be the most valuable contribution for the group?”. Again for others the range of possible answers can feel overwhelming – and misunderstandings arise fast.
How to respond: Name it. If something feels off, ask and paraphrase. A short “Are you also thinking about what you’d actually like to contribute?” can dissolve misunderstandings instantly.
Invisible to avoid standing out
The problem: neurodivergent behavior is often perceived as criticism. Most neurodivergent people grow up with this experience – and that’s 15–20 % of society.
On top of that, the language we use in these contexts is often negatively loaded. Did it catch your attention while reading that we called it “long-winded” explanations instead of “detailed”? “Pedantic” precision instead of “conscientious”? Or “quibbling over words” instead of “precise clarity”?
For a long time, I myself was proud of being able to disappear into a crowd. Adjusting my movements, mirroring the same energy, making sure not to stand out. Invisibility meant safety. In the short term, it worked. In the long term, it didn’t make me happy.
Creating visibility
Today I know: visibility creates belonging.
In the summer of 2025, I openly said for the first time and in front of around 200 people that I am a neurodiversity coach, and neurodivergent myself. The response was overwhelming. So many conversations followed that, for the first time, I felt truly welcome.
Showing myself goes against everything I learned in the first 30 years of my life. But that’s where the power lies: making yourself visible, creating connection, shaping impact.
How do your teams approach neurodivergent strengths today – and where do you see potential to make more of them?
I’m Monika from Flow by Wolff. My focus: clear processes, inclusive leadership, and environments where ideas can form, grow, and prosper.
From my own experience, I know how much energy it takes to remain invisible. Today I work with leaders and teams to make sure that’s no longer necessary.
Together, we create structures that make neurodivergent strengths visible, prevent boreout just as much as burnout, and open up spaces where true innovation can thrive.
Read more interesting articles on survival strategies Creativity Was My Lifeline. Neither talent, nor luxury, but a survival strategy. and autistic experience I Was Never Introverted. Just Wired Differently.