The Coaching Mindset - How We Learn to Back Ourselves
As neurodivergent people, we spend a lot of time decoding a world that wasn’t designed for us. We learn to translate our thoughts into “acceptable” versions, to hide our intensity, to soften our brilliance so it doesn’t startle anyone. That takes energy, a kind most of us run out of halfway through the week.
Coaching gives some of that energy back. It’s not therapy, not advice, and not another system to fix what isn’t broken. Coaching is a conversation that starts with curiosity instead of correction. It helps us turn the lens inward and ask, What do I actually need to thrive, not just survive?
Kirsty Nunn is an educator and coach, exploring how neurodiversity, psychology, and creativity intersect to help us build lives that work for our brains, not against them.
A space to think clearly
In a coaching conversation, no one is analysing you or diagnosing you. There’s no pressure to meet expectations or mask your reality. Someone listens, really listens, and asks questions that help you see the patterns under the noise.
Questions like: What’s getting in your way today? What would make this easier for your brain? What’s worked before that you’ve forgotten about?
For many of us, that kind of space feels rare. We’re used to people telling us what to do, often without understanding how our minds actually work. Coaching flips that dynamic. It assumes competence. It gives us time to think. It reminds us that we are the experts on our own minds.
When we’re coached, or when we learn to coach ourselves, several things start to shift.
We make better decisions. Because we pause. We step out of autopilot and ask, What’s really happening here? That alone can stop the spiral of overwhelm.
We gain confidence. Coaching reframes the internal story. Instead of “I can’t get organised,” it becomes “What kind of system would work for me?” We start designing life around how our brains function, not how they “should.”
We communicate more clearly. Asking open questions builds empathy. When we use a coaching approach with friends, colleagues, partners, we stop assuming and start exploring. That creates safety and trust on both sides.
We regulate emotions more effectively. Structured reflection helps us catch patterns early: the sensory build-up before shutdown, the hyperfocus before burnout, the anxiety before avoidance. Coaching teaches us to name what’s happening and choose what to do next, rather than reacting on instinct.
We recover self-worth. Many of us carry the scars of misunderstanding. Coaching softens that. It helps us see the strengths beneath the struggle: creativity, empathy, pattern recognition, tenacity. And it helps us use them intentionally.
Self-coaching: thinking with kindness
A great way to start engaging with coaching is to self coach. Self-coaching is the art of being your own ally. It’s learning to talk to yourself like someone you respect. Instead of using a deficit model and asking, What’s wrong with me? we ask, What do I need right now? Instead of, Why can’t I focus? we ask, What conditions help me focus best?
We replace blame with curiosity. And curiosity is the doorway to growth. Self-coaching doesn’t require a formal plan, just gentle structure. Some of us use frameworks like WOOP (Wish, Outcome, Obstacle, Plan) or GROW (Goal, Reality, Options, Way Forward). Others just keep a notebook of self-questions. What matters is the mindset: permission to pause and think deliberately before acting. Over time, self-coaching builds resilience the way strength training builds muscle. It doesn’t stop hard days from happening; it helps us move through them without losing ourselves in the process.
When we coach each other
Something remarkable happens when neurodivergent people use coaching with one another. We stop competing to appear “functional” and start collaborating to stay authentic.
In schools, for instance, students who coach each other learn that everyone’s brain has rhythms and glitches, and that’s okay. One might say, “I think best when I’m walking,” and another replies, “I need silence first.” Suddenly, difference isn’t a hierarchy. It’s data for problem-solving. In workplaces, a coaching-informed culture means meetings become less about blame and more about discovery. Instead of, “You missed the deadline,” it’s, “What blocked you, and how can we remove that barrier next time?” That one shift creates psychological safety, the fertile soil where innovation grows. In friendships, coaching helps us hold space instead of fixing. When a friend is overloaded, we ask, “Do you want empathy or ideas?” and mean it. We learn that helping doesn’t always mean solving.
The deeper reason it matters
For many of us, self-understanding arrived late. We might have spent years feeling lazy, messy, forgetful, or too intense before discovering that our brains were simply wired differently. Coaching helps repair that fractured self-trust. It says: You are not the problem. The mismatch between you and the environment is the problem, and that’s something we can work on together. Through coaching, we learn to zoom out, to spot the systems that trip us up, and to design gentler ones. It’s empowering to realise that we can architect our own ways of being—ones that honour our energy patterns, sensory needs, and bursts of brilliance.
Practical ways to start
1. Ask better questions. When your brain criticises you, reply with curiosity. “What’s the need underneath this frustration?”
2. Catch language traps. Replace “should” with “could.” “I should tidy” becomes “I could do five minutes.” It invites flexibility instead of guilt.
3. Use micro-reflections. End each day with one thought: What helped my brain today? What didn’t? Tiny awareness, big payoff.
4. Find your flow rituals. Music, movement, colour-coding - whatever sparks momentum, build it into your day intentionally.
5. Coach others gently. When someone’s struggling, ask, “What would make this easier for you?” That question alone can dismantle shame.
A culture that coaches
Imagine if our society worked this way, if schools, families, and workplaces took a coaching stance: listening first, asking before advising, assuming capability instead of deficiency.
Neurodivergent people wouldn’t just survive in those spaces; we’d lead in them. Coaching isn’t about turning us into something else. It’s about giving us tools to turn our self-knowledge into power. It helps us navigate systems that weren’t built for us while slowly redesigning those systems to be kinder for everyone.
We talk often about neurodiversity awareness, but awareness alone can leave us standing in the spotlight, labelled and explained but not empowered. Coaching is the next step: from awareness to agency. When we coach, whether ourselves or each other, we reclaim authorship of our stories. We learn to live intentionally, to design environments that fit our minds, and to celebrate the strange, spectacular logic of how we think. So when life next feels chaotic, try this: pause, breathe, and take the coaching stance. Ask yourself one question that begins with kindness. That’s how revolutions begin; not loudly, but quietly, in the moments we choose to back ourselves.