How to Support a Quietly Neurodivergent Employee: A Practical Guide for Managers
You might have someone in your team who is bright, reliable and conscientious, but also:
- seems exhausted a lot of the time
- disappears into deep focus and then goes quiet
- struggles with vague instructions, last-minute changes or noisy meetings
- finds phone or video calls more draining than you expect
They may have told you they are autistic, ADHD or otherwise neurodivergent. They may just have hinted that their brain works a bit differently. They may not have said anything at all, but you’ve noticed some patterns and you want to do right by them.
This article is written with people like you in mind: line managers who want to be less accidentally harmful and more genuinely helpful to the quietly neurodivergent people in their team.
It is not about “fixing” anyone. It’s about small, practical things you can do so they can use their strengths without burning out.
Summary
- Many neurodivergent employees mask heavily at work and then crash at home. If someone tells you they are autistic or ADHD, chances are they’ve already been working very hard to keep up.
- Clear expectations, predictable routines and written follow-up are not fussy preferences. They are access needs that help reduce overload and let people do their best work.
- You don’t need to become an expert in autism or ADHD. You do need to listen, take what they say seriously, and act on it where you reasonably can.
- Small changes – clearer briefs, quieter working time, flexible communication channels – often make a bigger difference than dramatic adjustments.
- Neurodivergent employees bring real value: deep focus, pattern recognition, different perspectives. You are not managing a burden; you’re supporting a different kind of strength.
- You are allowed to get it wrong sometimes. What matters is being open to feedback and seeing this as a shared problem to solve, not a personal failing for either of you.
What “quietly neurodivergent” can look like at work
Every neurodivergent person is different, but some common patterns in the workplace are:
- They look calm and competent in meetings, but are exhausted afterwards.
- They do excellent work on complex problems, but struggle to get started on “simple” tasks.
- They cope well with clear projects, but flounder when asked to “just pull something together”.
- They may find open-plan offices, constant noise or interruptions very draining.
- They might not say much in meetings, but when they do speak, it’s usually considered and useful.
- They sometimes miss hints, subtext or social “markers” that others take for granted.
From the outside, this can be confusing. You might find yourself thinking:
- “If they can do X, why do they struggle so much with Y?”
- “They seem fine in meetings, so why are they off sick or burnt out?”
- “They never ask for help, then suddenly everything has fallen apart.”
From the inside, there is often a lot of masking going on: holding it together in public, then quietly falling apart in private. If someone has disclosed a diagnosis to you, it’s likely because continuing as they were has stopped being sustainable.
Strengths you might be overlooking
It’s easy, once words like “autistic” or “ADHD” appear, to focus only on difficulties and adjustments. But the chances are you already rely on this person’s strengths, even if you haven’t named them.
Common strengths for many quietly neurodivergent employees include:
- deep focus on complex tasks when given time and space
- strong pattern recognition and an eye for detail
- noticing risks, inconsistencies or edge cases others miss
- bringing honesty and thoughtfulness to decisions
- caring about doing a good job and getting things right
- offering a different angle or way of thinking that helps the team avoid groupthink
Not every neurodivergent person will share all of these traits, and they are not magical superpowers. But they are valuable, and they are often the reason you hired this person – or why they quietly keep whole bits of work running that others find too messy or detailed.
When you think about adjustments, try to hold both sides in view:
- “What makes this person’s work harder than it needs to be?” and
- “What conditions help their strengths show up more easily?”
Framed this way, you are not managing a burden. You are looking after a member of your team whose brain works differently, and who can contribute a great deal when the environment doesn’t constantly trip them up.
You don’t have to be an expert – but you do need to listen
Many managers quietly panic when someone mentions autism or ADHD. They imagine they need specialist knowledge, or they worry they will say the wrong thing and make everything worse.
A few reassuring truths:
- You are not expected to know everything.
- You are allowed to ask simple, respectful questions.
- “I don’t know, but I’d like to understand what helps you” is a perfectly good starting point.
What neurodivergent employees often need most from managers is:
- to be believed
- to be taken seriously when they say something is hard
- to be invited into a practical conversation about what might help
You don’t have to dive into diagnostic criteria. You can stay close to the work:
“Thank you for telling me. How does this show up for you day to day at work? And what tends to make things easier or harder?”
Then, listen. Really listen. Resist the urge to jump in with solutions before you’ve heard the full picture.
Things that hurt more than help when someone discloses
When someone tells you they are autistic, ADHD or otherwise neurodivergent, they have probably spent a long time thinking about whether it is safe to say this out loud at work. Certain reactions can shut that door very quickly.
Comments that usually feel invalidating or dismissive include:
- “We’re all a bit on the spectrum.”
- “Everyone’s a bit ADHD these days.”
- “Are you sure? You seem fine to me.”
- “Why are you only telling me now?”
- “Well, at least now you’ve got an excuse.”
- “Let’s not make a big deal of it,” said in a way that suggests secrecy rather than respect for their privacy.
- Jokes or nicknames based on their diagnosis, even if you think they “won’t mind”.
These comments are often meant to reassure. They rarely land that way. They can:
- make the person doubt their own experience
- suggest you don’t take their difficulties seriously
- signal that it isn’t safe to be honest with you about what they need
There are also actions that tend to go badly:
- telling other colleagues or senior staff about their diagnosis without their explicit consent
- quietly stripping away responsibilities or opportunities “for their own good” without discussing it
- turning every issue into “because of your autism/ADHD”
- expecting them to become the in-house trainer on neurodiversity on top of their normal job
More helpful responses are simple and grounded:
- “Thank you for telling me.”
- “I appreciate you trusting me with this.”
- “I’d like to understand how this affects your work and what might help.”
If you’re surprised, you don’t need to say that out loud. If you’re unsure what autism or ADHD looks like in adults, that’s something you can read about separately. In the moment, your job is to receive what they’re telling you with respect and curiosity, not to interrogate or minimise it.
And if you realise later that you reacted clumsily, you can repair it with something like:
“I’ve been thinking about what you shared the other day and I don’t think I responded as well as I could have. I’m sorry about that. If you’re still comfortable talking about it, I’d like to understand more about what helps you at work.”
Clarity and predictability as access needs
Two of the most powerful supports for many neurodivergent people are:
- clear expectations
- predictable routines
These are not just “nice to haves”. They reduce the constant background effort of guessing what other people want.
Some practical ways to build this in:
Be specific when you delegate
Instead of:
- “Can you just pull something together on this?”
Try:
- “Could you put together a one-page summary in bullet points for [audience] by [date], focusing on [X and Y]?”
If you’re not sure what you want yet, say so:
- “This is still a bit fuzzy. Could you draft a short outline or half-page with your suggested headings, and we’ll check if it’s heading in the right direction before you do the full version?”
Make real deadlines visible
Vague timeframes like “ASAP” or “when you get a chance” are difficult to prioritise against everything else.
Instead, try:
- “I need this by end of next Thursday to prepare for a meeting on Friday.”
- “In an ideal world I’d like this by Wednesday; the absolute latest is Friday.”
This helps them plan their energy and avoid last-minute panic.
Write things down
After a meeting or verbal conversation, a short recap email can make a huge difference:
- what was agreed
- who is doing what
- by when
It doesn’t need to be formal or long. Two or three bullet points are often enough.
For a neurodivergent brain, having a written record removes a lot of anxiety about misremembering or missing something.
Meetings, calls and communication channels
Many autistic and ADHD people experience meetings, phone calls and video calls as more draining than email or chat.
You don’t have to remove all meetings. But you can make communication more manageable by:
- sharing an agenda in advance where possible, even if it’s rough
- stating the purpose and outcome at the start: “We’re here to decide on X,” not “let’s just see where we get to”
- watching the time and energy, not just the clock; long, unstructured meetings that wander are especially hard
- allowing camera-off in video calls if it doesn’t compromise the purpose of the meeting
- using chat or email for follow-up, not relying on people’s memory
When it comes to ad hoc phone calls, you can ask:
“Would you prefer a quick email first so you have time to think, or is a call okay?”
Even that small choice can be significant.
Quiet focus time and the environment
Neurodivergent people often have a limited number of “deep focus” hours in a day. Constant interruptions and noisy environments burn through those quickly.
Ways to support focus without disadvantaging the rest of the team:
- agree on protected focus blocks where they can turn off notifications and close their door or use headphones, as long as urgent issues have a clear route
- where possible, allow them to work from a quieter space for part of the week
- use shared calendars so others can see when they are in a “do not disturb unless urgent” block
You are not giving special treatment. You are making it possible for them to do the work you hired them for, rather than spending most of their energy filtering background noise.
Feedback that helps rather than overwhelms
Feedback is often a source of anxiety for neurodivergent employees, especially if they have a history of being criticised for things they didn’t realise they were doing “wrong”.
A few principles:
- Be concrete.
“This report is too vague” is hard to act on. “The introduction needs a clearer recommendation in the first paragraph” is easier. - Separate content from style.
If the analysis is strong but the structure needs work, say so. That builds confidence and gives a clear focus for improvement. - Avoid mind-reading language.
Phrases like “you don’t seem committed” or “you don’t care about detail” are likely to land hard and miss the actual issue (e.g. executive function limits, unclear expectations, overload). - Invite questions.
“Is there anything I’ve said that’s unclear, or that you’d like to talk through?” gives them permission to check their understanding rather than guessing.
You don’t have to get this perfect. Even a slightly clearer version of what you already do can make a real difference.
When they go quiet
Many quietly neurodivergent people have a pattern of “go quiet and deliver”: they retreat into their work, say very little, and then eventually surface with a finished product.
From the outside, this can look like:
- a lack of communication
- possible disengagement
- “I don’t know what they’re doing”
From the inside, it’s often:
- trying to protect their focus
- worry about interrupting you
- fear of bothering people unless they have something concrete to show
You can gently help by:
- agreeing check-in points at the start of a task (“send me a one-paragraph update by Wednesday”)
- making it clear that short progress updates are welcome
- asking open, non-accusatory questions if you’re concerned:“I haven’t heard much about X this week. How is it going, and is there anything you need from me?”
If they tell you they struggle with proactive updates, you can work with that:
“Okay, let’s build in some structure so it’s not all on you to remember. How about we set a repeating reminder and keep the update to two sentences maximum?”
Talking about adjustments without putting them on the spot
If someone has disclosed being autistic, ADHD or otherwise neurodivergent, there may be things that would help but that they’re nervous to ask for.
You can open the door without forcing it by saying something like:
“If there are any adjustments that would make your work more sustainable or less draining, I’m happy to talk about those. It doesn’t have to be a big formal process – we can start small. You don’t have to have a list ready today.”
Then, give them time. They may need days or weeks to work out what to ask for.
When they do come with a suggestion, try to respond in a way that shows you’re taking it seriously, even if you can’t deliver exactly what they’ve asked:
- “I’m glad you told me that.”
- “Let’s see what we can do within the constraints we’ve got.”
- “We might not be able to change X, but we could try Y and Z.”
If you genuinely can’t agree to something, explain the reason in plain language and see if there’s a smaller step you can take.
Where to place your own discomfort
Supporting a neurodivergent employee can stir up feelings for managers too:
- guilt about not realising sooner
- anxiety about “saying the wrong thing”
- frustration with systems you don’t control
- worry about fairness across the team
It’s okay to have those reactions. It’s just important not to make them the employee’s problem.
Instead of saying:
- “I feel awful that I didn’t see this sooner,”
you might say:
- “Thank you for trusting me with this. I’d like to do better from here. Let’s talk about what would help.”
If you need space to process your own feelings, take that to your own manager, HR, supervision or a trusted peer – not to the person who has just taken a risk in being honest with you.
A quiet closing note for managers
If someone has shared that they are neurodivergent, or you suspect they might be quietly struggling, the most important message you can send is:
“You don’t have to be exactly like everyone else here to belong on this team.”
You don’t have to redesign your entire organisation. You don’t have to find the perfect adjustment every time. You don’t have to become a specialist overnight.
If all you do is:
- believe them
- ask what helps
- act on some of what they tell you
- stay open to adjusting as you go
you will already be doing more than many managers ever do.
The person in front of you is not asking for an easy ride. They are trying to build a sustainable one. With a bit of clarity, flexibility and trust from you, they are far more likely to be able to use the strengths you hired them for – without burning out in the process.
Manager’s checklist
If you only remember a few practical things from this article, let it be these. You don’t have to do all of them at once. Even one or two changes can help.
Things To Do
| ✓ | Believe them when they tell you they’re neurodivergent. Say “Thank you for telling me” and ask how it shows up in their work, rather than questioning whether it’s “real”. |
| ✓ | Ask what helps in practical terms. Use questions like “What tends to make things easier or harder day to day?” and listen to the answer. |
| ✓ | Make expectations and deadlines explicit. Be clear about what you need, in what format, and by when. Replace vague “ASAP” with real dates. |
| ✓ | Follow up verbal conversations in writing. After meetings or important chats, send a short email summarising key actions, owners and dates. |
| ✓ | Protect some focus time. Where you can, agree on blocks of quieter time with fewer interruptions so they can do deep work. |
| ✓ | Offer choice in communication channels. Use email or chat for non-urgent matters, and ask whether a quick written outline first would help before a call. |
| ✓ | Check in on workload and energy, not just tasks. Ask “How is this workload feeling?” as well as “Where are you up to?” and take signs of burnout seriously. |
| ✓ | Invite adjustment requests without pressure. Let them know you’re open to discussing small changes that would make their work more sustainable, and give them time to think. |
| ✓ | Keep their confidence. Only share information about their diagnosis or needs with others if they’ve clearly agreed who can know. |
| ✓ | Be willing to review and tweak. Check in occasionally on whether the current arrangements are still helpful, and adjust together if needed. |
Things To Avoid
| ✗ | Minimising or joking about their diagnosis. Avoid lines like “we’re all a bit on the spectrum” or diagnosis-based nicknames – they tend to shut conversations down. |
| ✗ | Treating disclosure as a problem or inconvenience. Try not to respond with visible frustration, eye-rolling or comments about “extra work” because they’ve told you. |
| ✗ | Sharing their information without consent. Don’t tell colleagues or senior staff about their diagnosis unless you’ve agreed this with them first. |
| ✗ | Silently reducing responsibilities “for their own good”. If something needs to change, talk to them about it rather than quietly taking opportunities away. |
| ✗ | Blaming everything on autism/ADHD. Avoid turning every issue into “because of your autism/ADHD”; focus on specific situations and practical changes. |
| ✗ | Expecting them to be the office expert on neurodiversity. Don’t assume they want to train the team or lead every discussion just because they’re open about being neurodivergent. |
You don’t have to be a perfect manager of neurodivergent staff. You just have to be a manager who is willing to listen, adjust and see your quietly neurodivergent employee as someone worth investing in, not a problem to be solved.
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.











