Entrepreneurship Isn’t a Calling - It’s a Survival Strategy for Neurodivergent People

What if the reason so many neurodivergent people become entrepreneurs isn’t because we’re chasing some grand vision, but because the world keeps shutting the door on us everywhere else?

Let me take you back to my first “real” job. I was fresh, bursting with ideas, and determined to prove myself. But the office was a minefield: fluorescent lights buzzing, phones ringing, colleagues making small talk that felt like boring and unnecessary.

Every day, I masked my quirks, double-checked every email for “tone,” and tried to keep up with rules that seemed obvious to everyone but me. By Friday, I was so drained I’d spend the whole weekend recovering-just to do it all again.

I thought I was the problem. If I could just focus harder, or be less “much,” maybe I’d finally fit in. But the harder I tried, the more invisible I felt. I watched as neurotypical colleagues breezed through networking events and team meetings while I struggled to remember my own name under the fluorescent glare.

Eventually, I left. Not out of bravery, but out of necessity. I needed to breathe. I needed to build something that worked with my brain, not against it.

And I’m not alone. Research shows neurodivergent people-those with ADHD, autism, dyslexia, and more - are statistically more likely to start their own businesses. Not because we’re “born entrepreneurs,” but because traditional workplaces are often inaccessible, rigid, or even hostile. For many of us, entrepreneurship isn’t a passion project; it’s a survival strategy.

Yes, there are strengths: hyperfocus, creativity, relentless problem-solving, and the kind of out-of-the-box thinking that can change industries. But let’s not romanticise it. The truth is, many of us turn to self-employment after years of being overlooked, misunderstood, or outright excluded. We build our own tables because we’re tired of waiting for a seat at someone else’s.

I’ve seen the headlines: “Neurodivergence is a superpower!” And sure, sometimes it feels that way - when I’m in flow, when my intuition guides me to a solution no one else can see. But there are days when it feels less like a superpower and more like a fight for air. The reality is, neurodivergent entrepreneurs face unique challenges: navigating social protocols, managing energy crashes, and juggling the never-ending admin that comes with running a business.

What would happen if workplaces were truly inclusive - if they offered flexible hours, sensory-friendly environments, and space for different communication styles? What if we didn’t have to choose between masking and burning out, or between hiding and hustling alone?

I dream of a world where entrepreneurship is a choice, not a last resort. Where neurodivergent people can thrive in any environment - whether it’s a boardroom or a home office - without sacrificing their wellbeing or authenticity.

Until then, I’ll keep building my own path, and helping others do the same. Because our differences aren’t just marketable - they’re necessary. But we shouldn’t have to go it alone.

If you’re reading this and feeling seen, know this: you’re not “too much.” You’re not broken. You’re building something the world desperately needs-even if it wasn’t the plan you started with.

And maybe, that’s where real innovation begins.