The ND Lawyer Project

At 13, working as a pot washer in a pub for £3 an hour, I barely said a word to anyone. Many of the staff mocked me for being “strange.” At 16, I was asked to leave my 2 week work experience at a nursery because I “didn’t engage enough.” From 15, I spent 3 years working in a cafe, only finding the comfort to talk with coworkers in my last year there. Another cafe job? I left after three weeks after being left to close on my own and getting so stressed. At 17, I quit a job in a clothes shop after 7 weeks, having been shouted at by a customer over a security tag and struggling to connect with anyone who worked there. At 19, I dropped out of a vacation scheme assessment centre because the stress of making conversation on the office tour became too much. I also ran out of my first law firm open day crying. As a teenager, it’s safe to say I didn’t see a corporate career in my future, if any career at all. I was so disappointed in myself and just wanted to be “better.” Looking back, I feel sad for that younger me, a literal child, and autistic, whether I knew it then or not. I was harsh on myself, but many people who were much older than me were too. I didn’t deserve that. No child does. It took years of building confidence, finding my voice, pushing through discomfort and learning to advocate for myself to believe I could achieve anything. I was rarely told I could. I came close to losing myself, trying to be “employable” and leave that “strange” little girl behind. But she was fine. She just needed to know she wasn’t broken, she needed a little support. Employers: be gentle with your teenage staff, apprentices and work experience students. You never know what they’re carrying and they’re still growing. Not everyone needs “toughening up.” They may just need some support and kindness. And to the many teenage students who message me feeling the same as I did, be patient with yourself. You don’t need to have everything figured out and please don’t break yourself trying to become someone you’re not. You can’t fix neurodivergence, but you can find supportive environments, learn your strengths and work with your brain. It feels like nothing will change at that age, but it will. Photo: me at 13 and 13 years later ☀️ [First photo: Amelia as a young teenager with light brown curly hair and brown eyes, slightly smiling. Second photo: Amelia as an adult with dark blonde hair, clear glasses, white t-shirt and red cardigan]

Ranked as the 11th highest legal LinkedIn influencer this quarter, and the only Trainee Solicitor in the top 20 ✅ In an industry where many law firms pledge to support neurodiversity but often fall short of the basics, it’s encouraging to feel accepted by the online legal community. As a junior, openly autistic professional who is a stubborn over-emotional, over-sharer and occasionally forgets to post for weeks, this recognition means a lot. Thank you to everyone for the support! Especially uplifting for someone battling the Oktoberfest flu and an infected perforated eardrum 👂 Read the full report here: TBD Marketing Ltd Simon P MARSHALL https://lnkd.in/eRPQXn_Z Image: [Amelia’s LinkedIn circular profile photo with a blue ring around the outside which says "Q3 2024 Top 20 Legal LinkedInfluencer". She stands in a corner. There is a potted plant behind her and a view of a city at night through the window.]

"You need to play your part in adapting to the workplace." Quite possibly the most frustrating sentence to hear as a neurodivergent employee. Let me tell you a story, one I’ve heard more times than I can count: A neurodivergent person starts a job with optimism, ready to contribute. They sit through training that isn’t designed for their learning style and are told to work against their neurodivergence. The expectation is they will network and function in neurotypical ways, with no room for their unique processing or strengths. From day one, they’re already behind, always catching up, constantly feeling like they’re failing. No strategies are offered to work with their strengths, something they should innately know, only unspoken pressure to mask their differences and blend in. Each day is exhausting, a battle to keep pace in an environment that feels like an assault on the nervous system. When they request reasonable adjustments, nothing more than the basics to perform at their best and actually create value for their employer, they're often denied or dismissed as if it was their idea. If they're lucky enough to get them, they're met with subtle pity, as if they’ve been given a handout instead of a simple accommodation. They're pushed into certain work, or they start getting less of it, seen as a kindness. This is, of course, a kindness they never wanted. Still, they push harder, working five times more to match their neurotypical colleagues. The acknowledgment they crave rarely comes, and burnout begins to creep in. When they succeed, it’s chalked up to their "superpower," as if hard work didn’t play a part. But when mistakes happen, their neurodivergence becomes an excuse, or they’re told to find a more "suitable" job. They’re told to advocate for themselves and join neurodiversity initiatives, so long as their voice stays positive and doesn’t make waves. The moment they point out real issues or offer constructive feedback, they’re labeled difficult, inflexible or not a "team player." Authenticity is encouraged, but only if it resembles neurotypical norms. Prioritising mental health is praised in theory, but the moment they truly need to, their career suffers. They adapt constantly, more than most people can fathom, but no matter how much they adapt, they’re never seen as a "good" employee. There is always some ‘development’ point to address (normally a direct neurodivergent trait). Despite doing more than their part, they’re left questioning if the workplace will ever do even 10% of theirs. But they should be “grateful” for being part of the minority who are employed. Eventually, they leave. Maybe this kind of job isn’t for them. They gave everything, but were destined to fail. Or maybe they just needed to "adapt" more (the world doesn’t revolve around us after all). The cycle repeats in a multitude of industries until they realise the adapting narrative was gaslighting. Because that is all it is. Stop gaslighting us.

Please don’t tell me to "just go and talk to them" unless you truly understand the weight of what that entails. Allow me to walk you through how many of my social interactions unfold as an autistic person in professional settings: 1. First, I sift through the countless negative encounters I've had over the years when meeting new people; 2. Then, anxiety creeps in about how I’ll be perceived, and I meticulously script every word I plan to say (but never am able to stick to); 3. Despite my preparation, I often come across as too blunt or awkward, fumbling over introductions or misgauging the amount of detail needed for a simple "How are you?"; 4. I start the internal countdown, keeping track of how long I’ve maintained eye contact, reminding myself to look away at intervals to seem "natural"; 5. My face begins to ache from forcing expressions meant to convey friendliness or enthusiasm, all in an effort to make the other person more at ease; 6. Meanwhile, I’m mentally repeating their words, trying to stay engaged and keep up with the conversation; 7. As soon as there’s a pause, panic sets in as I scramble to find a link between topics — a connection my brain doesn’t effortlessly make; 8. I either interrupt too quickly or wait too long, both of which make me seem either rude or disinterested; 9. I'm constantly working to decipher hidden meanings in gestures, expressions and tone, applying learned knowledge where instinct is lacking; 10. At some point, I’ll notice that I've been misunderstood, having focused so intensely on all the above that I can’t express myself clearly — or worse, I’ve come off as cold or rude. I know the person may now avoid me; 11. Finally, I leave the conversation drained, fully aware that I’ll spend the next several days replaying the interaction, picking apart every mistake, and berating myself. So, I implore you: stop oversimplifying your advice to neurodivergent colleagues. What might seem like insignificant small talk to you is an entirely different ordeal for me. A few gentle reminders for interacting with neurodivergent people: 1. Be patient, avoid jumping to conclusions, and always lead with kindness. 2. Ask people about their preferred mode of communication. 3. Consider the dynamics of that method (for example, if the conversation is virtual, some may be more comfortable with the camera off). 4. Be mindful of the environment, as sensory overload makes everything more difficult. 5. Don’t dismiss people or assume they’re not worth engaging based on a single interaction. 6. Please, don’t stare — you won’t learn much about me from my body language or eye contact alone. #autismatwork #adhdatwork #neurodiversityatwork

How do I approach instruction meetings as a junior neurodivergent lawyer? …because no one bothers to teach you any techniques in education catered to your brain. A few months ago, I shared insights on handling instruction meetings as a neurodivergent person, discussing the challenges I faced and helpful adjustments. However, I didn't cover my specific approach to these meetings. Preparation: 1. I set up recording/transcribing software, grab my stim toy and prepare my note-taking format. 2. For first-time collaborations, I ensure any necessary adjustments have been communicated. 3. I confirm the meeting location is sensory-friendly, or if virtual, I book a quiet space. During the Meeting: (Shocking news: I did not invent the 5 Ws/1 H) WHY: Understand the task’s purpose, context and expected use. WHAT: Define deliverables, format, key points and billing details. If I can map out what it should look like, I’ll do a little diagram. Clarify unclear terms (what do things like comprehensive mean in this context). WHO: Identify relevant parties, including clients, reviewers and possible support contacts (e.g., other teams in your firm). HOW: Determine the first step, estimated time they would expect it to take and budget considerations. WHEN: Clarify deadlines—what does “ASAP” mean in this context? Set expectations based on other priorities and build in small breaks for my regulation. Are there next steps and when do these need doing by. WHERE: Find out where relevant documents are saved (e.g., templates, precedents, guidance papers etc.) and identify research sources. If anything is unclear from the above (I take a post it note with the above on and check it off), I ask questions during the meeting, avoiding masking behaviors (like forced eye contact and nodding along) to maintain focus. I will sometimes repeat what I’ve been asked to do, just to double check I’ve processed the information. After the Meeting: 1. Review instructions, using recordings or transcripts to ensure accuracy. 2. Gather relevant documents, saving (or versioning up) and organising them. 3. Develop a step-by-step plan, blocking time in my calendar and setting soft deadlines, using timers to manage executive dysfunction. 4. Create a basic format for the task (e.g., setting up the table etc.) 5. Test the instructions on a small part of the task. 6. If stuck, review the instructions, research briefly, then seek clarification. This structure doesn't fit every task and it won’t work for everyone (every ND is different!) but has been crucial for me in capturing what I need and leveraging my adjustments for the best outcome. #neurodiversityatwork #neurodivergenlawyer #actuallyautistic

Auf wiedersehen, London 👋 Hallo, Deutschland 🤝 I am SO excited to be joining Clifford Chance Germany’s Munich office next week for a six-month secondment with the Global Financial Markets team. Sometimes, you have to step back and think, "Wow, look how far I’ve come." What might seem minuscule to some is monumental for someone like me. As a child, I struggled to form sentences and often played alone. As a teenager, I cried every day, feeling overwhelmed by even the smallest things, without understanding why. As a young adult, I faced more mental health crises than I could count. Now, as a woman who has fought tirelessly for equal opportunities and respect whilst openly autistic, being a Magic Circle lawyer going on secondment feels truly special (even if I am a bit nervous!). P.S. Shameless plug—if you’d like to follow my journey as an Autistisch (that’s autistic in German in case anyone missed that) lawyer on her travels, follow me on TikTok and Instagram 🤝. #neurodiversityatwork #actuallyautistic #neurodivergentwomen

"Go live in a home then."* "Get a carer then" "Try an easier autistic job then." These are just some of the comments I’ve received for simply speaking out about the challenges I face as an autistic person in the corporate world. Being openly autistic in certain areas of law can feel isolating and, at times, anxiety-inducing. There aren’t many people who truly understand your experience (from their own lived experience). You constantly question how you’ll be perceived, whether new people will be supportive and how quickly things could unravel—despite the support your employer provides. I’d be lying if I said I have never wondered whether I truly belong. But from a young age I’ve I’ve grown accustomed to that uncertainty, and I’ve learned to keep moving forward in spite of it. Yet, even when I do press on, pointing out issues that hinder my success can still lead to accusations of incompetence. Every time I speak up about neurodiversity at work, someone (mostly a complete stranger) inevitably suggests that I just need to ‘adapt’ or that I’m just not cut out for my job. But I’ve learned not to let those comments hold me back. I have the “audacity” to speak up, even if it means being labeled lazy, stupid, entitled or worse. Because I know myself better than anyone. Im not a diversity hire or a pity party. I know I’m a capable, qualified, intelligent and skilled person who has worked incredibly hard to get where I am today. I belong here, struggles and challenges included, without a doubt. And I know so many other neurodivergent people who are incredible (or just simply as good as neurotypical employees)—people who are or could be assets to any employer, if only given the opportunity. It just takes a little bit of outside-the-box thinking to see that many neurodivergent individuals can be integrated into the workplace (in ANY position or level of seniority) and supported properly, even if they struggle with certain things. And not as “charity cases” but as highly skilled, creative and intelligent employees. I also know we are already in workplaces in numbers (diagnosed/disclosed or not) and we aren’t going away anytime soon. Ultimately, I don’t believe that autistic and neurodivergent people who can and want to work should have to settle for niche roles simply because they are easier for employers to accommodate. Nor should we be pushed out of the workforce or be doubted just because we have the audacity to call out blatant ableism and discrimination. Unless you want to pay additional taxes to support me and my fellow neurodivergent individuals who can and want to work so that we can live comfortably (because disabled people shouldn’t have to live on the poverty line just because they can’t contribute monetary value), I suggest you examine your biases. P.S. Comments like these assume that the care provided to autistic people who can’t work is adequate and up to standard. Let me put it simply: it is far from that.

Contrary to popular belief, you can’t “feedback” autism out of a person (or any other neurodivergence for that matter). I recently made a video about times when I received feedback in previous job roles that I felt was unwarranted because it targeted traits directly linked to my neurodivergence. I didn’t think this would be particularly controversial, but given the amount of hate comments, it’s clear that some people don’t and may never agree with me. So here is how I would have responded: You can tell me to be more social or to communicate in a more neurotypical way—but all that will do is exhaust me through masking. And when I’m masking, my other work will suffer. I already fulfill all the necessary social aspects of my role. What I take issue with is the “extra” stuff that isn’t part of my job description and doesn’t contribute directly to my performance. You can tell me to process things faster—but I can’t physically change the way my brain works. I already employ strategies like transcribing instructions, taking notes, and asking clarifying questions to process information as quickly as possible. I also can’t make up for poor instruction giving. You can tell me to stop getting overwhelmed—but without the right support, and when I’m constantly placed in situations that clash with my neurodivergent traits, I can’t manage that overwhelm. I already attend weekly therapy and have worked for years to maintain your version of “professionalism.” So, if you see me overwhelmed, it’s because I’ve been pushed too far. Also, I will never regulate my emotions in the same way a neurotypical person would, because I’m not neurotypical. I also can’t fully control sensory overload. I do everything I can to limit my exposure, but sensory input isn’t always avoidable. When I receive feedback like this, what it tells me is that while you’ll employ me as a neurodivergent person, you still expect me to change everything that makes me neurodivergent—for your convenience. I’m not ashamed of who I am, but this feedback makes me feel like I should be. People like to point out that these traits are all mandatory parts of most jobs. But a little open-mindedness would show you that 1) I can still do most jobs, especially if I’m given the support I’m legally entitled to (and no, that doesn’t make me “entitled”) and 2) neurodivergent people, including myself, need to be seen holistically. Yes, I may struggle in some areas, but I excel in others. And while I hate having to justify my challenges by listing my strengths, none of the issues I’ve mentioned are blanket “weaknesses”—there is nuance to all of them. I am not immune to constructive feedback, I have areas I need to develop on and I will in every role I have. I work hard to work on feedback I receive. But what I won’t accept is feedback that implies my neurodivergence is something to be fixed. #neurodiversityatwork #adhdatwork #autismatwork

Absolutely appalled by the racist, Islamophobic and xenophobic riots happening over the country this weekend - no one should be made to feel unsafe for the colour of their skin. Astonished and disappointed at various areas near where I'm from participating in such hateful and senseless violence. Sick to my stomach seeing people from my community participating. I have watched some absolutely abhorrent things for reasons that absolutely defy logic. Obviously, this is nothing 'new', such views have always existed, just a collection of individuals now using a horrific femicide to push their own agenda. Now more than ever, we really need to stand up as a nation, support, speak out and fight back - especially when you, like me, are looking at these acts as a person with privilege and as a person that will never have to face such fear for those reasons. The ND Lawyer Project and I will always stand against such acts and we send all our love and support to everyone in our community and beyond who has felt fear, hopelessness and upset. Hoping that employers also step up and offer whatever support is necessary. Hate that I even have to say this but Strut Safe, an organisation I have used myself for very different reasons, are available to take calls until the early morning for support and reassurance if you need it whilst being out.

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