Our story

Where this started

I spent my school years being told I was not trying hard enough. The education system was not built for how my brain worked, and for years I assumed the gap was mine to explain. University came later, as a mature student. Then a career that looked fine from the outside, but I was always hired as a doer, not a thinker. Hired to execute, not to build. To analyse spreadsheets, not to shape strategy. I excelled, then got bored, then moved on. The cycle repeated.

The work I was actually good at, building strategy, making connections, driving real change, rarely made it into a job description. I was not underperforming. I was miscast.

And then there was the other thing: I was always drawn to what was new. A new challenge, a new problem, a new direction. Once I had figured something out, the energy left. The routine that followed felt like a slow drain. That is not a character flaw. It is how my brain is wired. But no job description ever said: we want someone who will rethink this from scratch, get it working, and hand it to someone else. So I kept fitting myself into shapes that did not quite fit.

The diagnosis came later still: ADHD for me, AUDHD for my wife and our children. Getting a diagnosis as an adult is its own kind of reckoning. It reframes a lot. The exhaustion, the masking, the sense of working twice as hard to get half as far: it all starts to make sense. The problem was never the people. It was the process.

What is missing

Neurodivergent adults are not hard to employ. They are hard to see through a hiring process built for neurotypical self-presentation: the polished CV, the structured interview, the unwritten social rules that everyone is apparently just supposed to know.

What is missing is human connection. An employer who understands what reasonable adjustments look like in practice. A resource that speaks to your real experience, in plain English, using UK law and UK terminology. A place that says: you belong here, and here is the door.

What I am building

The job board is a tool. What I am actually building is a door that was not there when I needed it.

A place where neurodivergent adults in the UK can find employers who have done the work, access information that uses the right language for the right law, and feel like they are being spoken to as professionals rather than managed as a problem.

Volunteering with Little Brains Inclusive Well-being, a group for neurodivergent children, keeps the stakes clear. Those kids will need jobs one day. The workforce they walk into should be better than the one that existed for us. This is part of building that.

If any of this sounds familiar, it was built for you. Not for a demographic. For you.