Neurodivergence and nakedness
I got my ADHD diagnosis in 2018. For years, everything was just “Charlotte is just… like that.”
Yeah. Charlotte struggled to function. And it sucked.
[She also was bubbly, vivacious, scattered, an overthinker, a rambler and—oh. wait. she still is all of those things ha!]
Getting the ADHD diagnosis helped a lot. I’m on medication. It’s not super well-managed but that’s okay because it’s better than it was. We take these small victories where we can.
Along the way, I had also begun to wonder if I was on the autism spectrum. I realised that, for me, I don’t need a diagnosis. Any accessibility needs I might have in workplaces, places of education, etc, can all be fulfilled with the ADHD diagnosis. For me, the label is less relevant. I just know “I have particular needs and difficulties, and I am going to do what I can to accommodate these”.
When I work, I like to have lower lights, gentler music that isn’t super distracting, and nice smells. Some smells set off my migraines, but other smells just make me feel icky. Bright lights suck. Textures—which I’d never thought were an issue to me in the same way that my autistic friends found them—are surprisingly important to me! I guess I didn’t notice a lot of these things though, because I’d simply set my life up to suit these things. I didn’t think much about these things because it was just part of the process. “Oh, I won’t buy these sheets, they feel icky. Oh, I won’t buy this smelly thing, it makes me feel smothered”.
I’ve set my work space up to work for me.
This past weekend, I had a great discussion on autism, and sensory issues and needs.
I have quite a few autistic clients, and I love them. I love finding other people with special interests, who communicate in similar ways to me, who approach everything in ways that I can understand. I feel so lucky to have so many neurodiverse clients, particularly as so many of them have told me they see me because I make them feel safe with their needs and wants. Like, wow, what an amazing compliment ^.^
Over the course of this conversation this weekend, I realised I’d spent a lot of time building my space to suit my sensory needs, but I admittedly had not really thought to ask clients for theirs. In this case, the music was bothersome and needed to be turned down much lower.
Given how many of my clients are neurodiverse, I invite you to communicate with me about how I can better accomodate your needs. Do certain smells bother you? I need to avoid my migraines, but if it turns out strong citrus is an issue for you, please let me know and I’ll light a different candle! Do certain sounds cause an issue? Let’s find a playlist that we both enjoy! Are you claustrophobic and need a larger space than a standard hotel room?
This isn’t an invitation to take the piss—for example, if you say that condoms are a sensory problem for you, I’m going to roll my eyes and simply not engage with you again. This also isn’t inviting extensive outfit requests, etc. You can request outfits (within reason) but they’re not an accessibility accommodation. But I have pretty amazing clients, and I suspect none of you would suggest these things :P
This is me saying, “hey, I am neurodiverse and these things help me feel more comfortable—if you are too, please tell me so that I can make our time together feel safer and more comfortable!”. You do not need to disclose whether you’re neurodiverse if you don’t want to—it might simply be that X smell is a problem because you also get migraines.
I’m going to hope and trust you know what I mean with this. It doesn’t need to be a big conversation (in fact, I’d prefer it not be a big convo because I like to think I’ll simply accept what you’ve said), and you don’t need to mention it in advance. This is simply me indicating that this is a safe space to communicate these things to me should the need arise.
Let’s make our time together fulfilling and enjoyable for both of us—and it starts with making the safe feel good.
xxx Charlotte
