For many disabled and neurodivergent people, accessibility means more than removing physical barriers. It can also mean repeatedly explaining and advocating for needs that others don’t have to think about. But could responsibility for inclusion become something we all share?

Some people become experts at explaining themselves. They learn to describe why a noisy room makes concentrating impossible, why a change in routine can be disproportionately tiring, or why a meeting can leave them exhausted. They learn how much to disclose, when to speak up, and how to make their needs sound reasonable enough to be heard. Then the person who’s listening changes, and the individual must begin again.
It might happen in a doctor’s surgery, at university when a different tutor takes over, or at work when a new manager arrives, and an adjustment that once felt settled needs to be re-explained. None of these conversations are difficult in isolation, but the accumulation of them can become exhausting.
For many disabled and neurodivergent people, accessibility involves invisible work: explaining, correcting assumptions, and advocating for the conditions that allow them to participate on an equal footing. Yet the emotional energy required to continually make yourself understood is rarely part of the accessibility conversation.
Organisational psychologist and founder of Genius Within Dr Nancy Doyle has worked in disability employment support for more than 25 years. When she began, many neurodivergent people didn’t have the language or understanding to identify what they needed. Since then, an increase in awareness has created a different type of work.
“We’re processing this for ourselves, while also having to educate the people around us,” says Dr Doyle.
HIDDEN WORK
For someone experiencing explanation fatigue, however, greater awareness doesn’t make the immediate burden disappear. Feeling drained by repeated self-advocacy is not a sign you’re poor at it, nor does asking for help mean that you’ve failed to become independent. Finding people who understand – whether through a trusted colleague, peer network, disability organisation or supportive manager – can mean not having to do all the explaining alone. That matters – particularly at work.
SHARING THE BURDEN
Natalie Leister leads the Advice Service at Business Disability Forum (BDF), which predominantly supports employers, HR teams and line managers. Her team has seen an uptick in enquiries about neurodivergence, with around half of current enquiries relating to it. This is encouraging, showing that employers are increasingly asking how to support their staff. But better awareness does not automatically make a workplace inclusive.
One of the biggest barriers the BDF’s service encounters is the process for workplace adjustments. Where an organisation does not have an inclusive system, employees can end up repeatedly asking for support, or having to explain what they’re experiencing.
The solution begins with culture. Managers don’t need to become experts in every disability. But they do need to create an environment where someone can say that something isn’t working, without fearing that disclosure will change how they are perceived.
Natalie suggests moving towards conversations about what enables someone to do their best work: what helps them be productive, what gets in the way, and whether the organisation could do something differently. Crucially, the employee doesn’t need to have all the answers. A joint conversation allows employer and employee to work out what’s possible together.
That can make asking for support feel more collaborative, rather than leaving the employee to navigate the process alone.

INCLUSIVE BENEFITS
It also changes what inclusion can achieve. Dr Doyle describes this as “neurodiversity gain”: the idea that, when workplaces become more inclusive, everyone can benefit. Flexible lighting, quieter spaces, fewer interruptions and more thoughtful communication may remove barriers for neurodivergent employees, but they can also improve concentration, wellbeing and productivity across the wider workforce.
Neurodivergent people, Dr Doyle suggests, can be like “canaries in the mine shaft”: they’re often the first to experience the effects of sensory overload, poor working practices, or unnecessary bureaucracy. If those problems are addressed, the benefits don’t have to stop with the people who identified them.
BREAKING BARRIERS
However, support should remove barriers without placing a ceiling on what someone can achieve. Dr Doyle warns that well-intentioned employers can sometimes remove opportunities because they assume something will be too difficult for their staff. In this case, an employee may be shielded from giving presentations or doing challenging projects – rather than being supported to develop those skills.
“When people are doing things for you,” she says, “that’s not an adjustment. That’s taking part of the job away.”
The aim is not to lower expectations, but to remove unnecessary barriers so someone can meet them.
If you’re feeling the strain of explanation fatigue, there’s no single correct way to advocate for yourself. Some days, asking directly for what you need will be the most useful thing you can do. On others, you may not know what would help. That doesn’t make your needs any less valid. What matters is having people around you who are willing to work it out with you.
Self-advocacy is important, but it shouldn’t be the only form of advocacy we talk about. If disabled and neurodivergent people are continually expected to explain the barriers they face while everyone else waits to be told what to do, the burden remains in the same place.
The next step is making those conversations easier to have, so asking for support doesn’t become another source of exhaustion.