Authenticity, Burnout, and Our Neurodivergent Children

Authenticity, Burnout and Allied Health

Lately, I’ve been reflecting a lot on authenticity—and how central it is when we’re supporting our brilliant little gems (aka neurodivergent children with their own precious ways of being).

You see, I love a good deep dive—making connections, turning over stones, and discovering new gems of understanding. And recently, two (very much interrelated) things have stood out:

• Many neurodivergent children are hesitant—or outright resistant—to engage with health professionals.

• Many health professionals are exhausted, disillusioned, and teetering on the edge of burnout.

These two phenomena are closely entwined, and they deserve a closer look.

When Our Gems Don’t Want to Engage

It’s a familiar story: a parent shares that their child isn’t “getting much” out of therapy. There’s resistance, disengagement, or shutdown. And while it might be tempting to chalk it up to a bad day or tricky behavior, I wonder... could something deeper be going on?

Could it be that our gems are sensing something we don’t always name? A lack of authenticity? A hidden (though well-intentioned) agenda?

Because let’s be honest: even when our goal is to help, kids—especially neurodivergent kids—are masterful at picking up on the energy we bring into a room. If we’re not fully aligned with our own values, if we’re acting from a place of “what we’re supposed to do” rather than genuine curiosity and connection, they know. They feel the incongruence.

They don’t need fixing. And they know it.

(We probably know it too—but it can be hard to say that out loud when systems are loudly demanding outcomes.)

The Trap of “Fix-It” Culture

Here’s the sticky part: we’ve been trained—programmed, even—to make things happen. To set goals, track progress, tick boxes. We’ve been taught that success looks like “improved functional capacity” and “reduced challenging behavior.”

But what if that lens is inherently misaligned with the lived experience of neurodivergence?

The environments causing the distress are rarely addressed. The systems, in all their well-meaning ways, are often trying to mould neurodivergent kids into neurotypical shapes. And surprise! Many of our clients (especially those with PDA profiles) aren’t here for that. They’re seeking to do their own thing—thank goodness—and our challenge is often, to catch up.

And here’s the thing: deep down, we often don’t believe in the goals we’re tasked with either. We feel the dissonance, the quiet discomfort (or full-blown existential dread) of trying to align ourselves with systems that don’t quite fit.

But saying that out loud? Risky.


Speaking up in the wrong room might get you labeled something like - unprofessional. So we play along. We tick the boxes. We stay safe—but at what cost?

The Cost of Playing the Game

Over time, this tension wears us down. Our passion becomes performance. Our spark dims. We start to wonder why we got into this work in the first place.

Authentic practice—the kind that connects us to others and to ourselves—can’t thrive in environments that prioritise output over insight, or conformity over connection.

And if you’re neurodivergent yourself? Double whammy. You’re not just sensing the disconnect—you’re living it.

Neurodivergent people often have incredible radars for inauthenticity. They pick up on what’s unspoken. They crave honesty, openness, and deep attunement. And they thrive when they’re seen and accepted for exactly who they are.

Returning to Realness

What if, instead of imposing agendas, we gave ourselves and our clients permission to show up as we are?

To explore freely.
To connect without masks.
To lean into the “now” instead of the “next step.”

This is where the real medicine lives—not in programs or protocols, but in presence.

When we practice from a place of authenticity, we stop seeing neurodivergence as something to manage, and start recognising it as something to celebrate. We move from compliance to curiosity, from fixing to witnessing. And that, is where healing happens.

An Invitation

This is what I offer to the families and professionals I work with: full permission to show up—exactly as they are, in the reality of any given moment or experience.

We move from there.

Needs arise, ideas spark, growth unfolds—but not because we force it. Because we make space for it.

What a gift.

What a radical act.


To live, work, and support from a place of authenticity.

Are you in?