You’re in the middle of a conversation with your partner and somehow, it’s gone sideways again. 

They’re frustrated that you didn’t remember that plan from three days ago. You’re overwhelmed, trying to sort your racing thoughts, but they see you as shutting down. You don’t feel heard. They don’t feel understood. 

It’s not that you don’t love each other. It’s just that communication seems to fray at the edges every time something emotional comes up. 

If this sounds familiar, you might be living in a relationship where neurodivergence – like ADHD, autism, or other forms of cognitive difference – is in the mix. And if no one’s named it yet, it can feel like you’re speaking different emotional languages without a translator. 

You finally make it to couples therapy, maybe after months (or years) of trying to fix things on your own. You sit down with a therapist, open up about your challenges, and hope for some clarity. Instead, you walk away feeling just as misunderstood as before. 

It’s more common than you might think. 

For many neurodivergent couples, or couples where one partner is neurodivergent and the other is neurotypical, traditional therapy models can actually miss the mark. That’s because most therapists aren’t trained to recognize how differently a neurodivergent brain processes emotions, conflict, or connection. 

And couples? They leave feeling like they’re the problem, when in reality, they’re just wired differently. And research supports this disconnect. One study found that up to 75% of women with ADHD go undiagnosed until adulthood, many only discovering their neurodivergence while seeking help for relationship issues.  

This lack of awareness in the therapy room can lead to misdiagnosis, ineffective strategies, or even further relational harm. 

Finding the right couples therapist can often feel like dating all over again: awkward, uncertain, and full of mismatches. But when neurodivergence is part of your dynamic, the stakes are even higher. You need someone who doesn’t just tolerate differences in how your brain works, but understands and honors them. 

A therapist trained in neurodivergence won’t shy away from naming it in the room. You might hear them ask things like, “When did you notice your brain works differently from your partner’s?” or, “How do you each approach emotions and conflict differently?”

These aren’t throwaway questions, they’re signs the therapist is tuned in to neurodivergent experiences. 

And It’s okay to ask therapists directly: “What experience do you have working with neurodivergent clients?” or “How do you adapt your approach for different processing or communication styles?” 

Unfortunately, the majority of therapists do not have any formal training in neurodivergence. That makes this kind of intentional search even more important. 

There’s no one-size-fits-all approach to therapy, especially not when working with neurodivergent clients. What feels grounding for one person might be overstimulating for another. What helps one brain focus might shut another one down completely. 

This is why Grazel Garcia doesn’t just “adjust” her approach, she rebuilds it from the ground up for each client. 

That might mean slowing down to allow for processing time. Or being mindful of sensory overload, like avoiding overuse of metaphors, keeping the lighting soft, or offering breaks mid-session. It might mean explicitly helping with executive functioning, like providing summaries, written reminders, or visual tools. 

It’s not about “dumbing things down”. It’s about syncing with how your brain actually works. 

For many neurodivergent adults, the signs were always there but buried under years of cultural expectations, family norms, and the quiet pressure to just “get it together.” 

Especially in communities where obedience, perfectionism, or academic success are emphasized, there can be an attempt to erase neurodivergence through culturally and socially enforced compliance.

In cultures where structure and discipline are prioritized, behaviors like forgetfulness, daydreaming, or emotional intensity might have been met with punishment or shame. So many children grow up learning to mask: adapting, overcompensating, and blending in to avoid judgment. It’s survival. 

By adulthood, this masking can be so ingrained that people assume their exhaustion, overwhelm, or sensitivity is just “a personal flaw.” Therapy clients often come in thinking their struggles are purely emotional, only to discover that underneath lies a lifetime of unseen neurodivergence. 

Sometimes clients come to therapy already carrying a diagnosis: ADHD, autism, sensory processing disorder. Other times, there’s just a quiet hunch: “Something about me feels… different.” 

In either case, the goal isn’t always to slap on a label. It’s to understand how your brain works so you can move through life, and relationships, with more clarity and compassion for yourself and others. 

Grazel’s approach is grounded in ethical care. Testing is recommended only when it serves a real purpose: accommodations at work, clarity around learning needs, or a client’s personal curiosity about their brain. 

Sometimes, the need for diagnosis is practical, where you may need legal documentation, workplace protections, or school-based support. But other times, healing begins with a shift in narrative, not paperwork. 

Labels can be empowering, yes, but they’re not required to begin making meaningful changes. 

And for many clients, especially those from cultures where diagnosis carries stigma, skipping the formal assessment can actually feel safer and more accessible. Therapy then becomes a space for exploration rather than evaluation. 

In these moments, the therapist’s role is less about proving something, and more about affirming: “You don’t need a diagnosis to know your experience is real.” 

Ever notice that the world isn’t exactly designed for brains that work differently?

From job interviews to open-plan offices, from school structures to social expectations, neurodivergent folks are often left to adapt to a system that wasn’t built with them in mind. And that constant adapting? It’s exhausting. 

This isn’t about pushing clients to be louder, it’s about helping them get strategic, clear, and self-protective in how they speak up. Advocacy, after all, isn’t just about demanding change. It’s about surviving, and thriving, in the meantime. 

And the stats back up the need: only 21% of adults with autism are employed full-time, despite many being highly capable and qualified.

If you’ve never felt truly comfortable in a therapy space, you’re in good company. Many neurodivergent clients have spent years navigating environments that subtly (or not so subtly) ask them to mask, adapt, or shrink. 

That’s why neuro-inclusivity isn’t just a buzzword in the mental health space: it’s a radical shift in how therapy is offered and experienced. 

At Grazel Garcia Psychotherapy & Associates, inclusivity starts from the inside. 

We don’t just understand neurodivergence academically, our team is actively living it. That lived experience shapes how our therapists show up in the room: with flexibility, authenticity, and deep compassion. Sessions aren’t scripted. They’re co-created. And they’re designed to support the way your brain actually works. 

That might look like offering different pacing options, using plain language instead of psychobabble, or creating physical spaces that feel calming rather than clinical. Neuro-inclusive therapy honors your full humanity. 

When clients walk into a practice like this, they feel expected rather than accommodated for.