How I Explain How I Work: Writing a Neurodiversity Statement
When you first start to understand that you’re autistic, ADHD, or otherwise neurodivergent, there’s a big gap between “I know this about myself” and “I know how to explain it to the people I work or study with.”
You might know that you struggle with vague instructions, constant context-switching, noisy meetings or unplanned interruptions. You might also know that you have real strengths: pattern-spotting, deep focus, structured thinking. But turning all of that into a calm, readable explanation can feel overwhelming.
This is where a neurodiversity statement – or, if you prefer, a “how I work” statement – can help. It’s a short document that says:
- here’s how my brain tends to work
- here are my strengths
- here are the things I find harder
- here’s what helps me do my job or my course well
I recently wrote one for my own role and shared it with my line manager. With my permission, they also shared it with my director and with HR, so the people making decisions about my role had the same clear information. The response so far has been positive and, more importantly, clarifying.
In this article I’ll walk through how you might write something similar for work, study or volunteering, using examples based on my own statement. I’m not reproducing the whole thing here; it’s a personal document. Instead, I’ll share the structure and the kinds of sentences that might be useful.
Use what fits, ignore what doesn’t. You’re the expert on you.
Quick Summary
- A neurodiversity statement (or “how I work” statement) is a short document that explains your strengths, challenges and access needs in everyday language.
- You don’t have to share your whole life story. You can choose what to include, who sees it, and how detailed it is.
- A simple structure is: strengths → how your brain works → tricky bits → communication and meetings → what helps → what you’re doing yourself → what you’re not asking for.
- You can adapt the same core statement for work, study and volunteering by changing the examples and the people you address.
- Sharing a statement is optional. It won’t magically fix everything, but it can make it easier for others to understand that your needs are about how your brain works, not about effort or attitude.
What is a neurodiversity / “how I work” statement?
For this article, a neurodiversity statement is:
A short, written explanation of how you work best, shaped by your autism, ADHD or other neurodivergence.
It is not:
- a medical report
- a legal document
- a full personal history
- a list of demands
It sits somewhere between access needs and working style. Enough detail that someone reading it could think:
- “Oh, that’s why they prefer clear deadlines.”
- “Right, long unstructured meetings are hard for them.”
- “If I’m specific, they’ll probably do an excellent job.”
You can share it with:
- a line manager
- HR or occupational health
- a supervisor
- a personal tutor or course leader
- a volunteer coordinator (for roles like Scouts / Beavers, etc.)
You don’t have to give it to everyone at once. You can also adapt it for different audiences.
How much of it should you share?
You’ve already made a big decision if you choose to give a statement to someone in authority. Online or in wider settings, you may not want to share that full text.
You may not want all of your work details and internal wording searchable on the internet, especially while you’re still in the same role. That’s one reason I only use excerpts and paraphrased lines from my own statement here; the full version is a deeply personal document that I keep private.
A few things to consider:
- Privacy and safety.
You may not want the exact wording you’ve given to HR or your manager to be discoverable by anyone who Googles you. - Flexibility.
If your needs or situation change, it’s easier to update a private statement than to feel tied to a public version everyone has seen. - Purpose.
Your work statement is written for a specific job, team and context. A website article is for a wider audience. Templates and short examples serve that audience better than your entire text.
A middle ground that often works:
- Keep your full, specific statement between you and the relevant people at work, study or volunteering.
- In public spaces, share:
- the structure you used
- short, anonymised example sentences based on yours
- and reflections on how it went.
That’s the approach I’m taking here.
Before you write: questions to sit with
You don’t have to answer these perfectly. They’re just prompts.
You might jot down a few notes on:
- Strengths
- What am I genuinely good at?
- What kind of tasks suit my brain (patterns, detail, big-picture, people)?
- Trickier areas
- What uses a lot of energy?
- Where do I consistently get stuck or overloaded (even if I still get things done)?
- Communication
- How do I naturally communicate (written, spoken, bullet points, long-form)?
- Where do misunderstandings usually happen?
- Meetings and interaction
- What types of meeting are hardest or easiest?
- What helps me follow and remember what was agreed?
- Environment and structure
- Noise, lighting, open-plan vs quiet space, home-working, hybrid patterns.
- Clear priorities vs “do everything”.
- Support that genuinely helps
- What, realistically, would make my work or study more sustainable?
You don’t have to show this rough thinking to anyone. It just gives you raw material for the statement.
A simple structure you can borrow
Here’s one possible structure, with example snippets based loosely on my own statement.
Use any parts that resonate.
1. How you describe yourself
A short opening that sets the context.
“I am currently awaiting a formal assessment for autism. Whatever the final outcome, it’s clear that I process information and work in ways that are consistent with being autistic.”
You might swap “autism” for ADHD or “autistic/ADHD” or simply say “neurodivergent” if that feels safer.
2. Strengths and how your brain works
Lead with what you bring, not just what’s hard.
“My main strengths are pattern recognition, structured thinking and sustained focus. I work well with complex information, detailed analysis and projects that require logic and consistency.”
Adjust this to whatever is honestly true for you.
3. Trade-offs and what’s hard
Name the costs without putting yourself down.
“There are trade-offs. Rapid context-switching and juggling several unrelated priorities at once are demanding and use a lot of cognitive energy. I work most effectively when priorities are clear and when I can group similar work together in planned time blocks.”
You could mention things like:
- time blindness
- sensory overload
- email or messaging load
- meetings
- last-minute changes
4. Communication style
Explain how you tend to communicate and plan.
For example:
“My writing and communication style are shaped by how I think. I usually plan in bullet points, expand them into sub-points, and then write the final text. Because my thinking is associative, my sentences can sometimes become dense as I try to hold related ideas together.”
And then, importantly:
“I’m working to simplify where I can, breaking complex points into shorter sentences while keeping the analysis accurate.”
This shows awareness and willingness to adapt, without apologising for how your brain works.
5. Keeping in touch and “going quiet”
This is where a “go quiet and deliver” pattern can live.
“One area that has been highlighted is keeping in contact and ‘touching base’. My default is to focus on delivering the task and to report back when there is a concrete output.”
You can then add what you are doing about it:
“I’m addressing this by setting reminders for brief progress updates, agreeing check-in points at the start of pieces of work, and using short summary emails on longer tasks.”
You might adjust this to reflect your own strategies, or simply say you are trying these things.
6. Clarity, structure and feedback
Name clarity as a real need.
“Clarity and structure in communication make a noticeable difference to how well I can do my job. I work best when it is clear what is needed, by when, and in what format. Vague or open-ended instructions can create unnecessary strain, because I’ll often hold several possible interpretations in mind at once.”
Then add how feedback fits:
“Direct, specific feedback is very helpful, and I’m always willing to revise work when I understand the priorities and rationale.”
This reassures the reader you’re not avoiding feedback; you’re asking for feedback you can use.
7. Meetings and recovery time
You can briefly describe how meetings land for you.
“Meetings, workshops and other high-interaction periods can be tiring, even when they are positive. Having an agenda in advance and short written notes or action points afterwards helps me process information accurately and follow through on agreed actions. After particularly intensive meetings, a short period of quieter work helps me reset and maintain performance.”
Exactly how much detail you include depends on the role.
8. Masking and sustainability
If it feels safe, you can point to the history underneath.
“For much of my working life I have masked many of these traits in order to fit expected norms. While that has often been effective outwardly, it is tiring over time and can make it harder to flag difficulties early. Being more open about how I work is intended to reduce the need for masking and support a more sustainable way of contributing to the role.”
This helps explain why you might be communicating about this now rather than years ago.
9. What you’re not asking for
It can be reassuring for managers or tutors to see that you’re not using this as an excuse.
“I’m not asking for special treatment. It’s simply useful for colleagues to know that these are underlying cognitive traits, not a lack of interest or effort. I’m committed to doing my job well, improving how I communicate and check in, and being proactive in updating colleagues. This statement is offered as context to support that, not as an excuse.”
You can soften or strengthen this depending on your situation, but the core message is: “I care about the work; this just explains how to get the best from me.”
Adapting it for study or volunteering
The same structure can work for university, college or community roles – you just change the details.
For study, you might emphasise:
- lectures, seminars and group work instead of formal meetings
- assignment deadlines and time blindness
- communication with supervisors or tutors
- exam conditions and sensory issues in exam halls
For volunteering (like Beavers or Scouts), you might mention:
- noise and sensory load from groups of children
- needing short breaks or ear protection when things get loud
- preferring clear plans for sessions, roles and responsibilities
- your strengths: structure, consistency, reliability, empathy with ND kids
The same basic headings still work; the examples shift.
How to actually share it
Some practical options:
- Email before a one-to-one.
“I’ve put together a short ‘how I work’ note that explains my strengths and what helps. Would you be happy to look at it before we meet?” - Bring it to a meeting.
You can share it on paper or on a laptop and talk through the key bits. - Use extracts in conversation.
You don’t have to give the whole statement in one go. You can lift a couple of sentences and say, “This sums up how meetings affect me,” or “This explains why I prefer written instructions.”
You can also have slightly different versions:
- a full one for HR or disability support
- a shorter, plain-language one for line managers or supervisors
- a very brief “headline” version you might share with close colleagues if you want
None of this is all-or-nothing. You can start small and add more detail later if it feels safe.
A quiet closing thought
Writing a neurodiversity statement can feel exposing. You’re putting things into words that you may have spent years trying to hide, explain away or manage silently.
But it can also be a relief.
When you say, on paper:
- “This is how my brain works.”
- “These are my strengths.”
- “These are the trade-offs.”
- “Here’s what actually helps.”
you give other people a chance to meet you halfway. Not everyone will. Some won’t know what to do with it. But some will be grateful for the clarity.
You don’t have to publish your entire statement online. You don’t have to share every detail with every person at work or study. You can keep some things just for you, or for a small circle of people you trust.
If this article helps you sketch the first rough version of a statement, or gives you one sentence that feels like yes, that’s me, that’s enough. The goal isn’t a perfect document. The goal is for you to have a way to say, gently and clearly:
“I want to do my job well. Here is how to work with the brain I actually have.”
I’m Andrew, the person behind Quietly Neurodivergent. I’m an autistic adult who spent many years trying to pass as “fine” – holding things together at work, showing up to meetings, hitting deadlines – and then unravelling in private. I know what it feels like to look competent on the outside while running on fumes underneath.
By day I work with student data in higher education; by night (and very early mornings) I’m a part-time PhD student thinking about education, inequality and how people move through systems that were never quite built for them. I’ve also spent nearly ten years as a town councillor and I volunteer as a Beaver Scout Leader, which means I’ve had a lot of practice navigating meetings, forms, responsibilities and sensory/social overload at the same time. That mix of lived experience, community work and research shapes how I write here: practical, plain-English pieces that sit somewhere between “this is what it’s like” and “here are some things you could try”.
I’m not a clinician and I don’t offer diagnosis, therapy or miracle fixes. What I can offer are honest accounts of what has and hasn’t helped me with study, work and everyday life, alongside small, realistic tools you can adapt for yourself. If you recognise yourself in the phrase “quietly neurodivergent”, this site is for you.











