Neurodivergence and the invisible struggle with self-esteem

In the layered tapestry of our emotional world, self-esteem is one of the most subtle yet powerful threads. It quietly shapes how we relate to ourselves, how we show up with others, and how we move through life. And for those who are neurodivergent — especially autists and ADHDers - it’s often a thread that’s been frayed and tangled for years before anyone even notices.

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We don’t talk about it enough: the way autism and ADHD interact with self-worth. We focus on executive function, impulsivity, and time blindness. But beneath the late homework, missed appointments, or restless legs in waiting rooms lies something even more raw - an enduring feeling of ‘not enough.’ Not focused enough. Not consistent enough. Not like everyone else.

We will explore how this plays out in self-esteem in this article - low, healthy, inflated, and unstable - through the lens of autism, ADHD and other neurodivergence.


Low self-esteem: The internalised apology

For neurodivergent folks, low self-esteem often isn’t where it started, but where repeated misunderstandings left it.

The inner voice - often formed by years of correction, criticism, or just never quite fitting in - becomes an internalised apology. 

  • Sorry, I forgot.
  • Sorry, I interrupted.
  • Sorry, I didn’t do it the ‘right’ way.
  • Eventually, it becomes: Sorry for being me.

The body mirrors the burden: hunched shoulders, fidgeting hands, a glance that avoids eye contact. It’s the posture of someone bracing themselves for being ‘too much’ or ‘not enough’ - again.

In behaviour, there’s hesitancy. Over-explaining. Shrinking in group settings. A need to mask - code-switching between who they really are and who they think they need to be to be acceptable.

And in relationships? Boundary-setting feels impossible. People-pleasing becomes a survival strategy. There’s often a deep, lifelong fear of being rejected for being ‘too intense,’ ‘too forgetful,’ or ‘too emotional,’ or ‘too withdrawn.’

The internal script is familiar:

  • Why can’t I just get it together?
  • Everyone else manages this; what’s wrong with me?
  • I’m a failure.

This isn’t just low self-esteem - it’s the chronic exhaustion of trying to meet neurotypical expectations in a world that rarely meets you halfway.

"Before therapy, I felt like I was constantly walking on eggshells - overthinking everything I said, terrified I'd offend someone without meaning to. I masked so much I didn’t even know who I really was anymore. I’d write down what to say before work meetings, but even then, I'd dissociate mid-call and have no idea what I'd just said. I wasn’t listening - I was too busy rehearsing the right thing to say, the right way to be. Social anxiety ruled everything.

"I kept thinking, ‘Why can't I just behave normally? Why does everyone expect me to just switch something on?’ There was no manual for this. I couldn’t learn it from a book. I’d go through a million possible ways to say something and still end up doubting myself. Even people close to me didn’t seem to understand. Therapy helped me finally unlearn the pressure to be "normal," and start accepting how my brain works instead of fighting it."


Healthy self-esteem: The quiet strength of self-acceptance

For neurodivergent people, building healthy self-esteem often starts not with change, but with unlearning.
 
Unlearning shame. Unlearning the idea that productivity equals worth. Unlearning the belief that sensitivity or intensity is something to hide.
 
With time, support, and often therapy, a new voice emerges - calmer, kinder, more grounded. It says things like, 

  • That didn’t go as planned, and it’s okay.
  • You’re allowed to work differently.
  • Your brain isn’t broken - it’s brilliant in complementary ways to the world that plays catch-up.

Healthy self-esteem isn’t loud or boastful. It’s a quiet confidence that lets us take up space. It shows up in posture that’s relaxed but alert. In honest conversations. In the ability to say ‘no’ without guilt, and ‘yes’ without fear.

It allows the neurodivergent person to stop performing and start living — to be their full, uncensored self without apology.


Inflated self-esteem: The mask of overcompensation

Sometimes, in response to a lifetime of being underestimated, a different kind of self-esteem develops - not healthy, but inflated. Think bravado instead of bravery. Performance over presence.

For neurodivergent people, this might look like over-promising and then quietly burning out. Talking fast, interrupting often, needing to be the smartest person in the room. Not out of arrogance - but out of fear.

There’s a deep vulnerability here: a sense that if I don’t seem impressive, I’ll be dismissed. So instead of admitting our struggle, we mask it. Instead of asking for help, we deflect. Criticism feels catastrophic. Vulnerability feels dangerous.

The inner voice is defensive: 

  • They just don’t get me.
  • I’m better than this. 

But underneath it all is often a desperate need for validation - and a fragile sense of worth that's built on unstable ground.


Unstable self-esteem: The emotional whiplash

This is where many autists and ADHDers find themselves: swinging wildly between
I’ve got this! And I’m the worst.

On Monday, we might feel unstoppable - hyperfocus hits, creativity flows, motivation surges. But by Wednesday, the crash comes. We forget something important. We’re late again. A throwaway comment from someone knocks us sideways.

The result is emotional whiplash. Our self-image is situational, inconsistent, and often reliant on external validation.

In relationships, this can mean over-adapting to please others, manifesting different versions of ourselves to fit in and mirroring whoever is in front of us, then wondering later, Who even am I?

The internal narrative is uncertain: “I was doing so well - what happened?” It’s not that they lack resilience. It’s that their self-worth is on a rollercoaster, built on moment-to-moment performance rather than deep-rooted belief.


What now? Reclaiming neurodivergent self-worth

Self-esteem isn’t a fixed trait. It’s a dynamic process — one that’s deeply shaped by our neurobiology, environment, and the messages we absorb over time.

For autistic individuals and ADHDers, and other neurodivergent people, reclaiming self-worth is revolutionary. It means rewriting the script. It means learning that executive dysfunction isn’t laziness. That emotional intensity isn’t immaturity. That being different isn’t being wrong.

It also means building spaces - internally and externally - where you can be fully seen. Therapy can help. So can community. So can simply hearing someone say,
You’re not broken.

Because the truth is, the world doesn’t always know what to do with minds that move differently. But that doesn’t mean those minds are any less worthy.

If you’ve been taught to doubt yourself, know this: your self-worth is not up for debate. It’s not dependent on your output, your organisation, or your ability to fit in.

You are good as you are. You were never not enough.

You were always just right - you just needed the right lens to see it.

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The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Counselling Directory. Articles are reviewed by our editorial team and offer professionals a space to share their ideas with respect and care.

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London W1G & Oxfordshire OX1
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Written by Olena Baeva
MA | BPsych | PgDip | MBACP | Neurodiversity affirming
location_on London W1G & Oxfordshire OX1
I have over 20 years of experience in the field. I specialise in neurodiversity because I am multiply neurodivergent myself and creating a good life for my fellow neurodivergent people is my passion.
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