How It Develops — and How We Can Work With It in the Therapy Room
One of the most common themes I see in my work with neurodivergent (ND) adults is the deep-rooted belief of “I am not good enough.”
This applies especially to those diagnosed later in life, but it is also very present in clients who were diagnosed early.
To understand why, we need to go back to childhood.
How Does the “Not Good Enough” Part Develop?
In an ideal scenario, a child experiences unconditional love. They encounter kind adults who show them that getting things wrong is part of being human — that mistakes are not a reflection of identity, but an opportunity for growth.
In that environment, a child learns:
- I can mess up and still be loved.
- I can struggle and still belong.
- Who I am is separate from what I do.
But for many neurodivergent children, things are more complex.
It is now well understood that neurodivergence is highly genetic. This means it is likely that at least one parent may also be neurodivergent.
This can create several dynamics:
- An ND parent whose own sensory or emotional needs clash with the child’s needs.
- An NT parent who genuinely loves their child but struggles to understand them.
- A household where overwhelm, misattunement or unmet needs are common.
(NT means Neurotypical, which refers to individuals whose brain development, processing style and behaviour fall within what society considers the typical or expected range.)
A child who repeatedly feels they are disappointing their parents — even unintentionally — can begin to form an identity around that experience.
Children do not think:
“My parents are overwhelmed.”
They think:
“There must be something wrong with me.”
And so the scene is already set within the family environment.
I am not saying this will be the case in every Neurodivergent household but if a client presents as not feeling good enough, it is worth checking their family situation when little.
Then Come the School Years
Some neurodivergent children compensate academically. If they are naturally bright, they may become A-grade students.
At least they are praised for something.
At least they are good at that.
Achievement becomes protection. It can also mean that the child feels their value completely rely on their academic accomplishments.
Other children — like myself — struggle deeply within the learning system. They are made to feel stupid, lazy or disruptive. I often hear clients’ stories of being ridiculed or even bullied by their peers but also by teachers. From being forced to write 100 lines stating, “I will behave like a human being,” to having objects thrown at them for losing focus and switching off.
Whether a child excels academically or not, the social world of school can be incredibly tough.
Many clients describe learning to mask very early on — sometimes as young as five:
- Copying peers’ likes and dislikes.
- Wearing clothes that feel uncomfortable just to fit in.
- Suppressing natural movements or stims.
- Studying social rules rather than intuitively absorbing them.
Each of these adaptations reinforces the same message:
Being myself is not good enough.
Our lives can become laddered with these moments. So it is no wonder that we enter adulthood carrying the belief that we are fundamentally not enough.
Society continues to define neurodivergence through deficit rather than difference or strength. How are we supposed to feel good enough when the narrative around us describes us as disordered?
How Experiences Wire the Brain
Early experiences do not just shape memories — they shape neural pathways.
The brain develops through repetition. Neurons that fire together wire together.
If a child repeatedly experiences shame paired with messages of inadequacy, the brain begins to link:
Social interaction → Threat
Mistake → Identity flaw
Difference → Rejection
Because the brain is highly plastic in childhood, these pathways become efficient and automatic.
Negative experiences — especially relational ones — reinforce this wiring over time. Each similar experience strengthens the pathway. Each humiliation, misunderstanding or rejection lays down another layer.
This is not weakness. It is neurobiology.
And it follows many neurodivergent adults into working life and relationships, continuing to reinforce the belief system one neuron at a time.
I am not saying this does not happen to neurotypical people. Of course it does. But I am saying it is far more common for neurodivergent individuals because of the repeated mismatch between their nervous system and their environment.
The world we live in isn’t made for us so of course we are bound to feel at odd with it.
When the Client Arrives in the Therapy Room
By the time your ND client sits in front of you, they may have already tried one or several counsellors who did not understand neurodivergence.
This means that ‘no progress’ was made and the client or the counsellor may have decided to end therapy.
Those experiences can reinforce the narrative:
“I’m too complicated.”
“Therapy doesn’t work for me.”
“I’m a lost cause.”
You may genuinely feel like the last chance saloon.
This makes the therapeutic relationship — as with any client — absolutely paramount.
It is no surprise that therapy in systems such as the NHS can feel particularly difficult for ND clients. It can take months, sometimes years, for a client to feel safe enough.
NHS therapy usually favour shorter period of time.
When we consider the history of misunderstanding, masking and relational injury, this makes perfect sense.
Establishing safety through:
- Explicit non-judgement
- Clear consistency
- Predictability
- Stating that you are in it for the long haul
…is not optional. It is foundational.
Working With the “Not Good Enough” Part
To work with this belief, I find inner child work invaluable.
That younger part who felt:
- Inadequate
- Useless
- Too much
- Not enough
…needs compassion and understanding.
It needs a voice it never had.
It needs permission to be vulnerable, angry, playful.
It needs to be valued.
Personally, I use drawing and writing with both hands in my inner child work.
The adult writes with the dominant hand.
The child responds with the non-dominant hand.
The adult might begin with something simple:
- “How are you feeling?”
- “What was that like for you?”
- “What did you need back then?”
- “What are you still carrying?”
Then the non-dominant hand responds.
Writing with the non-dominant hand slows the process down and can access different neural networks. Because it requires greater attention and engages the opposite hemisphere, it often bypasses the highly verbal, analytical adult voice. Clients frequently describe the language that emerges as simpler, more emotional, more childlike. It can gently unlock memories and feelings that have been stored somatically rather than cognitively.
When the realisation slowly emerges that it was never about them being not good enough — but about the environment they were in — things begin to shift.
When we can start giving our inner child what they needed, we begin giving our adult self what we need too.
Reassuring that younger part — “I have you now. I will stand up for you. You will not be bullied anymore.” — can translate into adult boundary-setting, self-advocacy and self-compassion.
When Clients Struggle With Imagination
Not all ND clients connect easily with imagery or inner child work. Some struggle with imagination or find it inaccessible.
In these cases, questioning the narrative is still powerful.
- Where did this belief begin?
- Whose voice does it sound like?
- When is it triggered?
- What does it try to protect you from?
Challenging the narrative in small, concrete ways can be transformative:
- Leaving a minor mistake uncorrected.
- Not over-explaining once.
- Wearing what feels comfortable instead of socially acceptable.
- Setting one small boundary.
Each corrective experience begins to lay down new neural pathways.
The brain can rewire — not through grand gestures, but through repetition of new experiences.
A Final Thought
I am not saying this is the only way to work with “not good enough.” There are many therapeutic approaches that can support this work.
But in my experience, when neurodivergent clients understand where this belief came from — when they see that it was shaped by context rather than character — something softens.
And when they begin to offer their younger self the compassion they never received, the adult self starts to stand taller.
The belief may have been wired early.
But it is not fixed.
And that is where hope lives.
