With the Olympics and Paralympics captivating audiences around the globe, now is the perfect time to shine a spotlight on neurodivergent individuals and their unique experiences in sports. Our experiences in sports often differ vastly from those of our neurotypical peers. For some, sports become an essential part of our routine, helping manage mental health and providing a vital outlet for energy. For others, however, the world of sports can be fraught with challenges, leading to a sense of exclusion and even dread.
My journey in sports began at a young age. Born prematurely, I faced numerous developmental challenges—poor muscle tone, difficulties with hand-eye coordination, and sensory processing issues. These challenges were compounded by motor coordination difficulties, making physical movement even more daunting. Despite being labelled as likely to be a "clumsy child”, my parents were determined to enrol me in various activities to help develop the skills I lacked.
From ballet to tennis, swimming to rugby, I was exposed to a wide array of sports. However, instead of building my confidence, most of these activities left me feeling demoralised. The repeated struggle to match my peers' pace, coupled with the disheartening moments when others noticed my lack of coordination, gradually wore down my self-esteem. I dreaded PE lessons and the embarrassment they would bring. For a child struggling with poor muscle tone, the demands of sports—precise timing, coordination, balance—seemed almost insurmountable. At times, it felt like even the simplest drills were beyond my grasp, and I often questioned whether I would ever fit into the world of sports.
Despite these setbacks, netball emerged as the one sport where I found a sense of belonging. As the tallest girl in my year at the time, my height gave me an advantage in goal, and for the first time, I felt I had a place on a team. Even though I knew I wasn’t the best player—in fact, I could barely coordinate my lanky limbs—I didn’t care what others said. I used the negative comments as motivation to improve. Netball became a hyperfocus—a place where I could channel all my frustration and focus on one thing: winning. It was one of the only things I had in common with the other girls on the team, providing me with a sense of purpose and drive.
However, netball wasn’t without its difficulties. One of the most persistent challenges I faced was dealing with auditory processing difficulties. The coaching styles I encountered often relied heavily on verbal instructions for drills, which I found difficult to process quickly. This made following complex or rapid instructions incredibly challenging, leading to feelings of anxiety and frustration. Coaches were unaware of these challenges and often attributed my struggles to ‘not paying attention’. I frequently felt out of place, struggling to keep up with teammates who seemed to have no trouble understanding and executing the drills. This communication barrier not only impacted my performance on the court but also made it harder to connect with others, leading to challenges in building friendships with my fellow players. I often felt misunderstood and isolated, unsure of my place within the team.
Sensory processing difficulties also played a significant role in my sports experience. Many sports environments are rich with sensory stimuli—squeaky gym floors, the buzz of crowds, blaring whistles, and bright lights—all of which can be overwhelming for someone with heightened sensory sensitivities. The intensity of these sensory inputs often led to discomfort, anxiety, and even withdrawal from the activity as the environment became too much to bear. Most of my matches were played under LED blue-white stadium lights, which frequently triggered migraines, inhibiting my ability to play.
In addition to these challenges, my journey in netball was disrupted by several injuries—particularly to my ankles, where I tore ligaments multiple times. My hypermobility, a condition characterised by joints that move beyond the normal range of motion, made me more prone to such injuries. Hypermobility is common among neurodivergent individuals, with a predicted 50% having the condition (National Center for Biotechnology Information, 2022). While hypermobility might seem like an advantage in sports that require flexibility, it actually predisposed me to sprains, torn ligaments, and other joint injuries. Unfortunately, this wasn’t always understood by those around me; I was even labelled as ‘dramatic’ by a coach on one occasion. There was a tendency to view my injuries as a result of not working hard enough or not being careful, rather than recognising the underlying physical challenges I faced.
Each injury felt like a significant setback, not just physically but also mentally. It disrupted my routine and affected my ability to engage in the exercise that was crucial for managing my mental health. This was especially difficult prior to my diagnoses, as I hadn’t yet fully realised how important physical activity was for helping me manage my energy and focus, as well as providing a sense of routine and structure. There were moments when the combined weight of these challenges made me question whether it was worth continuing to play, but I was determined to push through.
Off the court, I was a rather obedient child who adhered strictly to all rules; on the court, I was perceived as the complete opposite. I quickly gained a reputation for being aggressive and often clashed with umpires. It was incredibly challenging to be singled out repeatedly by teammates, coaches, spectators, umpires, and opposing teams. Managing this anxiety felt impossible: if I held back to avoid causing upset, I would be told to "try harder," but if I exerted my full effort, I was labelled "overly aggressive." After speaking with other neurodivergent athletes and coaches, I realised that this is a common experience among neurodivergent individuals.
The FA shared an analogy that resonated with me: Imagine two cars traveling at different speeds—one fast, the other slow. The faster car requires a longer distance to come to a complete stop. Similarly, as neurodivergent individuals, we often process large amounts of information and stimuli quickly, which means we need more time—our own 'braking distance'—to adjust and settle. This becomes particularly relevant in sports, where the fast pace, high pressure, and sensory overload can make it harder to process emotional and physical stimuli right away. Neurodivergent athletes may need extra time to respond appropriately to situations, especially under stress, which might be misinterpreted by others. Without enough space or understanding from umpires, coaches, or teammates, reactions like an emotional outburst after an infringement call may seem exaggerated to neurotypical individuals, even though they're simply the result of needing more time to process.
Despite these numerous obstacles, I managed to excel in netball, climbing up the ranks from my school’s first team to national competitions and eventually on an international platform. Competing on such a high stage was an incredible opportunity and a testament to my resilience and perseverance. While the competition was a remarkable experience, this high point in my netball career was also bittersweet. While playing against England, I recall receiving a warning from the umpire for not maintaining eye contact while she reprimanded me for a foul. Struggling with eye contact has been a challenge since my youth, despite my best efforts. This incident, occurring before my diagnosis, felt particularly unjust and confusing. It was also a stark reminder of how much I didn’t fit in with my teammates and coaches. The experience highlighted how my journey had been filled with a range of obstacles, gradually eroding my enjoyment of the sport.
From a young age, my passion for sports was matched by a keen interest in the nuances of coaching. This interest was deeply rooted in my own experiences with the exclusivity of traditional sports training. Determined to foster an environment where everyone could participate and thrive, I began exploring ways to make coaching more inclusive. My journey into coaching started modestly—I volunteered to assist with various coaching roles at my school. This hands-on experience was invaluable, offering insights into the challenges and rewards of teaching diverse groups of students.
Motivated by the positive changes I was able to implement and the joy it brought to participants, I soon took a more ambitious step by running my own team of teenage girls outside of school. These were girls who had often felt overlooked or undervalued in their usual sporting environments. My approach was practical: I focused on building their skills and boosting their confidence, aiming to make sports more accessible and enjoyable for them. Managing my own team not only honed my leadership skills and inclusive training techniques but also marked a significant turning point in my career. It was during this period that I also qualified as an umpire. This dual role of coach and umpire enriched my understanding of sports from multiple perspectives—ensuring fairness on the court and fostering talent off it.
The COVID-19 pandemic marked another significant turning point in my life. With team sports no longer an option, I turned to gym workouts as a way to manage my energy and maintain a sense of routine during a time of unprecedented uncertainty. Gym sessions became my way of coping with the chaos around me—I would train at least once a day, finding comfort in the control and stability they provided. This period also marked my gradual shift away from team sports. I began to use physical activity more as an outlet for daily stresses rather than as a competitive pursuit. This shift in focus was crucial for my mental well-being, allowing me to engage with physical activity in a way that wasn’t burdened by the pressures of competition and team dynamics.
While I played for my university’s first team, running has gradually replaced netball as my primary form of exercise. My personality thrives on setting and achieving personal challenges, and running provided the perfect avenue for this. I started training for the London Marathon 2024 with the goal of raising funds for the National Autistic Society—a cause that resonates deeply with me. Training has been difficult, and like my experience with netball, it requires perseverance and resilience. Unfortunately, an injury prevented me from participating in the 2024 marathon, but I am determined to keep training and have deferred my place to 2025. In light of this, I decided to start an Instagram account to document my journey as a neurodivergent athlete. This platform has allowed me to share the unique challenges neurodivergent athletes face and connect with others navigating similar paths. Through this account, I aim to raise awareness about neurodiversity in sports and inspire others, showing that setbacks can forge even greater determination.
Through all these experiences, I’ve come to recognise the immense benefits that sports can offer, even in the face of significant challenges. Sports have been a lifeline for me, helping me manage my energy, maintain focus, and create a sense of routine that is vital for my well-being. Beyond physical health, sports have also had a significant positive impact on my mental well-being. Engaging in regular physical activity has been shown to reduce symptoms of anxiety and depression across all individuals, with neurodivergent people being particularly likely to benefit given their higher predisposition to these conditions.For those with ADHD, like myself, sports provide a vital outlet for excess energy, helping to improve focus and reduce restlessness. The routine of regular exercise offers a sense of structure and stability, which is often comforting for those who thrive on predictability.
Despite the hurdles—both physical and mental—sports have taught me resilience, perseverance, and the importance of adaptability. While my relationship with sports has evolved over time, the lessons I’ve learned continue to shape how I approach challenges in all areas of my life. Sports have not only provided me with physical strength but also mental fortitude, and these qualities have been invaluable as I navigate the complexities of being neurodivergent in a world that often struggles to understand and accommodate differences.
My hope for the future is that the sporting world becomes more neuroinclusive, allowing neurodivergent individuals the same opportunities as neurotypical individuals, without added barriers. While this dream sometimes feels like it’s an entire world away, it begins with baby steps, like writing this blog. If you are neurotypical, thank you for reading. And if you are neurodivergent, I am sorry that you may face challenges that others don’t, but you aren’t alone. Please harness the resilience ingrained in you to not give up—sports can be hugely beneficial to our community and encompass a wide range of activities. It’s just about finding something that works for you.
Thanks for reading,
Nidhi :)
References
National Center for Biotechnology Information. (2022). Joint Hypermobility Links Neurodivergence to Dysautonomia and Pain. PMC. Available at: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC8847158/
Comments