Narrative Therapy and Neurodiversity

Narrative Therapy and Neurodiversity: Making Sense of Your Story

Many people searching for Narrative Therapy and Neurodiversity want to understand how story-based therapy supports neurodivergent experiences—especially ADHD, autism, and other ND identities. As someone who works closely with neurodiverse clients here in Melbourne, I often see how powerful it is when people finally get the space to explore their stories in a way that feels human, respectful, and grounded in who they are. This approach blends lived experience, identity, and the social world we all navigate. And honestly? It can change how people see themselves.

A quick peek into two of my favourite topics and greatest specialities as a therapist. How do they fit together? What’s so great about them, anyway?

As a neurodiverse narrative therapist, I’m a little biased in thinking these two fit together like chocolate gelato and lemon sorbet: weird on paper but delicious in practice. (The reason is that I’m 85% sure Michael White was on the spectrum, but that is pure speculation on my part based on reading any of his papers. Do not quote me on this, you will fail your exam.)

What Is Narrative Therapy All About?

Narrative Therapy is often misunderstood, especially when people first explore it alongside Neurodiversity. At its core, it’s a way of treating people’s stories as meaningful, valid, and worth taking seriously. Instead of focusing on “what’s wrong,” narrative therapy explores how someone has made sense of their experiences—especially when they’ve been misunderstood, labelled, or dismissed.

An easier to cite reason is that Narrative Therapy is all about personal interpretations of experiences, and taking people seriously when they describe how they think and feel. If there’s one tragic quote shared by most of my clients, peers, and friends, it’s “my therapist didn’t get me”. It’s not always a brain difference thing, but it’s often enough to be noticeable that neurodiverse people can be misunderstood by professionals, labelled as noncompliant, pathologised, or expected to change essential (and harmless!) parts of who they are. In theory, Narrative therapy is about recognising and honouring your experience, and “de-centring the practitioner” by focusing on your interpretation of events, not theirs.

Neurodiversity, viewed through the lens of narrative therapy, invites us to challenge cultural assumptions about ‘normal’ behaviour. Normal isn’t the goal; sometimes it’s even the problem. It’s about unravelling stigmatising and marginalising stories, and replacing them with stories that respect our identities.

But isn’t Neurodiversity the “problem”?

This is a question I hear often—especially from people trying to untangle what their diagnosis means. When we talk about Narrative Therapy and Neurodiversity, a big part of the work is separating the person from the problem. Neurodivergent traits are not moral failings. They’re not character flaws, not evidence of being “too much,” “too intense,” or “too distracted.” They’re simply one way of being human.

This was my number one biggest struggle when I started learning about Narrative Therapy. Because Michael White has heaps of case studies working with ADHD kids and their parents, and in many of them, ADHD was the “problem” they were working on. I really struggled with that. Luckily for me (and hopefully for you), it isn’t so black and white as “your diagnosis is your problem”.

In those cases, parents would walk in with a kid and say, “Sam is driving us crazy. He’s out of control, he refuses to listen, he’s a menace.” Talking about the kid like that painted a picture of the kid being helpless – or an agent of chaos – that needed to be fixed or reined in. From that perspective, taking those “negative” traits and giving them a new home, AD/HD, gave the kid back his agency to make choices about his behaviour, and the parents could talk about what was difficult without complaining that their child was difficult.

Even then, ADHD might be the first label to come up, but it was important to find a name for the experience. A kid who named their problem “Jumping Thoughts” would be telling us that the problem, for them, was the way their thoughts jumped from topic to topic, making it difficult to focus. A symptom of ADHD, yes, but the problem isn’t the diagnosis, it’s the specific experience.

I identify strongly with my label – I’m an ADHDer, or a neurodiverse person, not a person with ADHD, because I can’t separate my experience of the world from my identity. So when I talk about my experience, it’s not me vs ADHD, it’s me & ADHD, united against the world. It’s my brain fighting against Pointless Social Rules or Nightmarish Boredom. When I jitter out of my skin standing in a long line, I don’t blame ADHD; I blame the line, and try to find ways to cope with standing in it, instead of hating myself for not being able to stay still.

Connecting the Personal and the Political

Narrative therapy emphasises both political and personal aspects, and it has profoundly influenced my worldview. While I’ve always recognised society’s impact, my understanding deepened and became more complex when I engaged with narrative. Sitting in that strange in-between space of “do I have a mental illness, or is my brain just different? But if I’m just different, why is everything so hard?”

I found comfort in hearing practitioners discuss neurodiversity as a way of existing that is beautiful and valuable in itself, yet struggles to find acceptance within a system not built for it. Shifting the conversation to question the systems in place and why we should adapt ourselves instead of changing the system is quite empowering. Narrative approaches help us reclaim our stories and contribute to a collective redefinition of societal narratives, values, and beliefs.

Does this approach sound like your kind of work?

If you’re curious about how Narrative Therapy and Neurodiversity could support your identity or everyday life, you’re welcome to reach out. Whether you want to explore your story, make sense of your diagnosis, or simply have a space where your experience makes sense, narrative therapy can offer a grounded, respectful, and empowering way forward.