Learning to advocate for yourself is something many of us are encouraged to do more of. We’re told it’s healthy to speak up about our needs, set boundaries and be honest about what we can realistically manage.
In theory it sounds empowering. In reality, it can sometimes feel a little more complicated.
Recently I found myself in a situation that many people will probably recognise. I had said yes to something that sounded fun – a collaboration that initially felt light and positive. But as the details started to unfold, it became clear that the format was going to be quite difficult for me.
It involved cooking live while chatting at the same time. Now for some people that might feel completely natural, but for my brain it’s a different story. When I’m following a recipe or concentrating on cooking, I need to focus on that. Trying to cook while having a conversation and keeping track of everything happening on a live would almost certainly leave me flustered and overwhelmed.
So instead of pushing through and hoping for the best, I did what many of us are learning to practise more often. I spoke up and explained honestly what I could realistically manage. I said I would happily join the conversation and chat, but that cooking at the same time would probably be quite stressful for me. In other words, I was advocating for myself and being honest about my capacity.
The response was kind enough, but it also made something clear. The series was really about cooking together, so if that part wasn’t going to work then perhaps it was best not to do it this time. And just like that, the opportunity quietly disappeared.
At first I actually felt a sense of relief. The pressure was gone and the situation had resolved itself quickly. But not long afterwards that familiar internal voice started to creep in.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.
Maybe I should have just gone along with it.
Maybe I’d made things awkward.
If you experience rejection sensitivity, particularly the kind that can show up with ADHD, you’ll probably recognise this moment. Even when nobody has said anything unkind, a change like that can still feel like a kind of social rejection. The nervous system reacts before logic has time to catch up. Suddenly the mind starts replaying the situation and looking for evidence that we somehow got it wrong.
Was I difficult?
Did I create a problem?
Should I have handled it differently?
But when I sat with it for a while, something else became clear. Self-advocacy hadn’t gone wrong. What it had actually done was create clarity.
When we speak up about our needs, our capacity or the way our brains work, we sometimes discover that the situation isn’t quite the right fit after all. That can feel uncomfortable in the moment, especially if the outcome isn’t what we were hoping for. But the alternative would have been pushing myself into something that I already knew would be stressful. And chances are I wouldn’t have shown up as my best self anyway.
For many women, particularly neurodivergent women, learning to advocate for yourself is still a relatively new skill. For years we’ve often been the ones adapting, masking, pushing through and trying not to cause inconvenience. We’ve learned to override our own needs in order to keep everything running smoothly.
So when we do finally say “this is what actually works for me”, part of us still worries that speaking up might make things fall apart. And sometimes it does. But that doesn’t mean speaking up about your needs was the mistake. It simply means you discovered something important about the situation.
Some environments have the flexibility and curiosity to meet us where we are. Others have a structure or expectation that doesn’t easily bend. Neither response necessarily means anyone is wrong or unkind. It simply tells us something about alignment.
Self-advocacy isn’t really about controlling the outcome. It’s about being honest about our energy, our capacity and our nervous system. Sometimes that honesty opens the door to beautiful collaborations with people who genuinely understand and adapt. And sometimes it gently closes a door that might not have been the right one for us anyway. Either way, something important has shifted.
Self-advocacy doesn’t guarantee the outcome you hoped for. It simply guarantees that you didn’t abandon yourself along the way.