At 50, Jude started retraining for a self-employed career in nutrition. She would rather be a part of a larger team, but experience has taught her that many organisations aren’t doing enough to support neurodivergent people in the workplace.

She’s sharing her story as she wants to inspire employers to make changes so more autistic people can be their best selves at work and companies can have the advantage of a neurodivergent workforce.

Finding out I was autistic with sensory processing disorder when I was 48 came as a surprise and a relief. I had experienced burnout four times, and I couldn’t understand how everyone else thrived at work when it was so hard for me. If I’d had an earlier diagnosis and reasonable adjustments to accommodate my needs at work, I may have had a happier, more sustainable career.

My working life started after college when personal assistants had their own office. I was fine working in a quiet and calm environment; I love organisation and was successful in my work. Shortly thereafter, open-plan offices became more common along with the noise and ‘busyness’ of large teams in one space.

In addition to being overwhelmed by sound, I was struggling to handle social engagement in the workplace. I constantly felt like I was playing a part on a stage. I know now that autistic women and girls are often skilled at masking - hiding their true selves and copying others to fit in. For me, social interaction feels like I am playing a game where everyone knows the rules except me.

My husband ran a business so I worked for him for some years as well as part-time contract jobs in marketing or project management. In one contract role, the MD gave very little verbal feedback, which made me assume the worst about my performance. I don’t easily read facial
expressions or pick up on non-verbal cues, so he may have been showing his approval but it wasn't in a way I could read. After a year, I left; it was just so hard not knowing whether I was doing a good job.

A couple of years later, my husband bumped into the company owner, who said, “Jude is the smartest person I have ever worked with. One of my team said I should have made her Operations Director.” I wish he’d said that when I worked there!

I have had to reluctantly refuse several job offers once it became clear they would include things I found difficult: Travelling to unknown and new places; being persuasive on the telephone; working in an open-plan office where they play music all the time. All these things can be overcome with small adjustments, it just needs open dialogue to make it work.

Since my diagnosis three years ago, the knowledge I am autistic hasn’t helped in my search for work. I applied for a job at a local library that required a group reading session with children. I emailed the manager and explained that I was autistic and had a sensory disorder, but I was very interested and had relevant experience. I asked if I could have 10 minutes in a quiet space to reset after sessions. I was told it wouldn’t be something they could guarantee so it probably wouldn’t be appropriate to apply. It did make me laugh; if a library can’t provide a quiet space, what hope have I got working anywhere else?!

Another time, I tried being upfront about my diagnosis in an interview. When I said I was autistic and needed a quiet environment, one of the interviewers replied, “Of course you’re not autistic”. This felt hugely invalidating at a time when I was still coming to terms with my diagnosis.

My experiences in the workplace have made me feel that employment just isn’t a viable option. It’s Hobson’s choice: self-employment is really the only option on offer.

I realised that unless I took things into my own hands and created a role for myself, I wasn’t going to find fulfilling employment. I’ve always been passionate about food and nutrition, so I started a course in culinary medicine. My aim is to specialise in helping neurodivergent people improve health outcomes through diet - both what to eat and how to cook.

Truthfully, I would rather be employed. I would love to be part of something bigger; a team working toward a common goal. I dread having to market myself, the need to generate a customer base is terrifying. But my experiences in the workplace, along with recent interviews, have made me feel that self-employment is the only option.

We are all unique, but generally speaking, we like routine, are open and honest, and have different ways of looking at the world so we can see solutions to problems that others may not. We can be detail-oriented, creative, and focus intensely on our work.

We could be making a huge contribution to the workplace in return for some small adjustments: interview questions in advance, quiet spaces to work, flexible working times, open dialogue about our individual needs, clear verbal feedback, and one-to-one training to fill skills gaps. It’s not much to ask when there’s so much value and richness to be gained in return.

Thank you to Jude for sharing her story. If you would like to make your organisation more neuroinclusive, take part in the Neurodiversity Employers Index - NDEI®