Psychologist logo
Eden
Autism, Careers and professional development, Neurodiversity

Walking the Identity Tightrope: how I found my balance

Eden Christoforou shares the challenges of being diagnosed with multiple neurodivergent conditions while beginning her first Assistant Psychologist post.

17 January 2025

Starting your first-ever assistant psychologist post is both challenging and exciting. You're thrown in at the deep end, learning new skills, developing existing ones, getting to know a new team, their ways of working, and the client group they serve. The good news is that you're doing something you love, in a job that is so very hard to get, and all your hard work has finally paid off. 

I'm three months into this exact experience, and want to share my reflections on one of the more unanticipated challenges I've encountered as a newly appointed AP.

Who am I? Identity shifts and crises

Late last year, shortly before my 29th birthday, I was diagnosed with multiple neurodivergent conditions. Discovering your neurodivergence relatively later in life is deeply impactful, and for me, resembled a grieving process where I fluctuated between feelings of anger, despair and self-compassion. The diagnoses completely shattered my sense of self and everything I thought I knew about myself. I went from feeling insightful, self-aware and self-assured in my identity, to suddenly feeling that I had no idea who I truly was. It was such a surreal experience that I truly believe only other late-realised, late-diagnosed neurodivergent people can fully appreciate it. 

Much like grief, adjusting to a new diagnosis isn't a linear process, and how I feel about my neurodivergence shifts regularly. Whilst there are many positives to my new identity; like no longer feeling as though there is something inherently wrong with me, it also comes with its challenges, like navigating the emotional toll of disclosing it to friends, family, employers, and colleagues. 

To disclose or not to disclose

I had already spent 12 years in the workforce prior to my diagnoses and had experienced my fair share of workplace bullying, exclusion, and differential treatment. The negative consequences of being perceived as different were firmly engrained in my psyche, and I knew that it wasn't always well received when I acted instinctually at work. To avoid any kind of negative repercussions, I buried the aspects of me that were 'different' and instead, modelled the behaviours of my colleagues. I would spend hours in bed reciting and scripting the following day's interactions and micro-analysing every word, movement and facial expression I had made the day before. In essence, I had learnt how to curate a perfect (and more importantly, accepted) professional identity. 

What I was actually doing was identity management through masking, a term used to describe the suppressing and modifying of identity and self to fit in (Miller et al., 2021). The problem with masking is that it uses up a huge load of cognitive resources, making it both unsustainable and detrimental to one's physical and mental health and well-being (Evans et al., 2024). 

A crucial factor in improving my ability to live well following my diagnoses has been learning to accept myself for who I truly am and living life in a way that feels authentic to me – known as unmasking. One part of unmasking has meant living in alignment with my values; promoting social justice, advocacy, inclusion, and compassion. All are seamlessly intertwined with my neurodivergent identity, but also my professional identity as an aspiring clinical psychologist. So, how do I reconcile this and decide which parts of myself I want to show up at work, when the lines between professional identity and concealed, stigmatised identity can become blurred?

Claiming my authentic self at work

My AP post is part of a widening access initiative aimed at recruiting applicants without prior experience as an AP, and with lived experience of a physical health condition and/or a mental health issue and/or neurodivergence. Despite this, and the ongoing struggles I faced in my personal life around identity disclosure, I hadn't given much thought as to which parts of my identity I was comfortable with being 'visible' at work.

Some weeks into my post, I saw my name next to the words 'widening access role recruited to' on a past agenda for a team meeting that I hadn't attended. My heart sank, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach, and suddenly I was acutely aware of how I felt about my invisible identity being made visible. Despite my best efforts to accept and be proud of this part of myself, past experiences took a hold, and I was swept away by that familiar feeling; I'm ashamed to be different. I don't want to be different. 

I began to think about why I felt this way, and reflected on how social history and context had shaped and upheld the stereotypical and reductionist beliefs I had about neurodivergence, despite being neurodivergent myself. Clinically, neurodivergent conditions have been conceptualised as a series of deficits, and socio-culturally, neurodivergent people have continually been typecast into the same narrow presentations. Consequentially, 'historical truths' about neurodivergence formed due to the majority controlling the narrative instead of amplifying the voices of the minority (Shaw et al., 2024). If the minority had had a voice earlier, I would have recognised my own difference sooner, potentially alleviating years of strain, shame and self-blame. After all, the realisation that I was neurodivergent came about after an encounter with someone who reminded me of myself, which is true for many late-realised, late-diagnosed adults (see Doherty et al., 2024). 

Evidently, a deficit perspective of neurodivergence has implications for the individual and society as a collective, in that it contributes to the upholding of the status-quo, ableism and internalised ableism. As such, I will continue to have days where I struggle to feel proud of something I've spent years being chastised for. On the other hand, reframing this perspective, and consciously shifting towards a neurodiversity paradigm (see Shaw et al., 2024) will undoubtably hold benefits for people of all neurotypes.

The importance of psychological safety

I agonised over the meeting agenda for a few days before deciding to broach it with my supervisor. I was worried about raising something that had potential to cause issues, like anyone in a new job would, but in a way that perhaps is amplified for people with intersecting marginalised identities. I was afraid of being perceived as difficult, being treated differently moving forward, and potentially jeopardising my job security. 

In the end, there were a few protective factors that enabled me to feel like I could speak to my supervisor. One of them was living in alignment with my values. By sharing my experience of how it felt to see that meeting agenda, without having attended the meeting myself, or knowing that information would be shared, I was facilitating discussions about social justice, advocacy, inclusion, and compassion. Speaking to my supervisor was also helpful in reconciling any feelings of guilt that I had around not wanting to claim all parts of my identity at all times but still wanting to contribute to the reframing of neurodivergence and how it is conceptualised. 

The other protective factor was psychological safety, defined as "the belief that individuals can engage in interpersonally risky behaviours, such as disagreeing, asking questions and reporting mistakes, without negative consequences" (Lee et al., 2022, p1). My supervisor did a great job of fostering a supervisory space where my voice was encouraged, heard, respected and valued. That in and of itself was fundamental to feeling as though I could approach them and ultimately prompted these important and meaningful reflections. 

Check in regularly

Having difficult conversations about difference of any kind and how identity narratives are led and managed in the workplace is conducive to moving towards a more flexible, diverse, and inclusive workforce. Moreover, the parts of self that a person feels comfortable to bring to work is likely to change over time, so it is essential to have regular check ins to assess how you feel about the visibility of your identity across several timepoints in your career.

For supervisors of those just starting out in the psychological professions, I urge you to consider how you can create psychologically safe spaces to hold these discussions in with your supervisees. For supervisees, I would encourage you to reflect on your own relationship with your identity, and consider the ways in which you may, or may not, want to embrace it at work. My exact experiences of course, are unique to me and I think it's important to address the privileges I have that might make it safer for me to disclose aspects of my identity than others (e.g., I'm a cis-gender, white woman, from a middle-class family), and I acknowledge that for many, un-masking is fundamentally unsafe. 

On the days where I'm feeling more assured in my neurodivergent identity, its visibility feels hugely empowering, and I want to advocate for myself and others that it's ok to be you authentically. On days where I don't feel quite as strong, revealing those parts of myself can feel too daunting. Understanding that it's ok for these feelings to be fluid has been hugely beneficial in alleviating some of the cognitive dissonance and discomfort I've been feeling around claiming all parts of myself at all times.

References

Doherty, M., Chown, N., Martin, N., & Shaw, S. C. K. (2024). Autistic psychiatrists' experiences of recognising themselves and others as autistic: A qualitative study. BJPsych Open, 10(6), e183. 

Evans, J. A., Krumrei-Mancuso, E. J., & Rouse, S. V. (2024). What you are hiding could be hurting you: Autistic masking in relation to mental health, interpersonal trauma, authenticity, and self-esteem. Autism in Adulthood, 6(2), 229-240.

Miller, D., Rees, J., & Pearson, A. (2021). "Masking is life": Experiences of masking in autistic and nonautistic adults. Autism in Adulthood, 3(4), 330-338.

Shaw, S. C. K., Brown, M. E., Jain, N. R., George, R. E., Bernard, S., Godfrey-Harris, M., & Doherty, M. (2024). When I say… neurodiversity paradigm. Medical Education, 1‐3.