How to Coach When You’re Neurodivergent and Female

Tackling bias, imposter syndrome, and standing out in a world that doesn’t always expect you to belong there.

There’s a very specific experience that comes with being both neurodivergent and a woman in sport.

It’s walking onto a pitch already feeling like you have to prove yourself before you’ve even blown the whistle. It’s second-guessing whether you’re “too loud,” “too emotional,” “too disorganised,” or just… too much.

And if you’ve got ADHD? Your brain helpfully turns those thoughts into a full stadium announcement.

But here’s what I’ve learned: coaching while neurodivergent and female isn’t a weakness to overcome. It’s a different way of leading and honestly, sport could do with more of it.

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The Invisible Balancing Act

Women are often expected to coach in a very specific way: calm, organised, patient, endlessly professional, emotionally available but not too emotional, confident but not “bossy.” We don’t get afforded the same expectations as men- it’s sad but it’s true, and we can’t ’get away with’ as much as men either. 

Now throw ADHD into the mix.

Suddenly you’re:

• interrupting because your brain moves too fast
• forgetting admin tasks despite caring deeply
• hyperfocusing on one issue while accidentally ignoring another
• masking constantly so people take you seriously

It can feel exhausting trying to fit into a version of “professional” that was never designed with neurodivergent women in mind.

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Imposter Syndrome Loves a Woman with ADHD

You could coach an incredible session, support your players brilliantly, and completely transform team culture…

…but the second you forget a team sheet or lose your whistle, your brain goes:

“Well obviously you’re a fraud.” And it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy as your insecurities become reality and your confidence plummets. 

Neurodivergent women are often brilliant at noticing mistakes and terrible at recognising their own achievements. We internalise criticism deeply. We replay awkward moments like they’re match footage. We assume everyone else has it together.

Spoiler: they don’t.

Some people are just better at hiding the chaos.

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Rugby Still Has a “Look” of Leadership

Let’s be honest sport still often imagines leadership as loud, authoritative, hyper-organised, and traditionally masculine.

But leadership in women’s rugby? It looks different.

Sometimes it looks like empathy.

Sometimes it looks like adaptability.

Sometimes it looks like noticing the quiet player at the back and making sure she feels included.

Neurodivergent coaches often bring creativity, intuition, emotional intelligence, humour, and flexibility which are all things that build strong teams, even if they don’t fit the stereotypical image of a coach with a clipboard and a colour-coded spreadsheet.

(And thank God for that, because I lose paperwork almost immediately.)

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Your Difference Becomes Someone Else’s Safety

One of the most powerful things about being visibly imperfect as a coach is that it gives other people permission to be human too.

Players don’t need a robot. They need someone real. Someone who understands nerves, overwhelm, self-doubt, and trying again anyway.

As a neurodivergent woman, you often create safer spaces without even realising it. You understand what it feels like to not quite fit the mould so you naturally build environments where other people don’t have to either.

That matters more than perfect admin ever will.

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The Double Standard Is Real

A male coach forgetting equipment might be called “scatterbrained” and they’ll have a chuckle about it.

A female coach doing the same can be labelled “unprofessional.”

Women in leadership are often judged more harshly, and neurodivergent traits can amplify that scrutiny. Passion becomes “emotional.” Directness becomes “aggressive.” Enthusiasm becomes “too much.”

It’s frustrating. And it’s real. The old adage that women have to try twice as hard to be half as respected as men is real, sadly. 

But shrinking yourself to make other people comfortable doesn’t make you a better coach it just makes you a quieter one. Something I’ve learned the hard way. 

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You Don’t Need to Coach Like Anyone Else

The best thing I ever realised was this: there is no single “correct” way to lead a team.

Some coaches run perfectly timed sessions with laminated plans.

Some coaches lead through energy, connection, and adaptability.

Most are somewhere in between.

Your coaching style doesn’t need to look traditional to be effective. If your players feel supported, motivated, safe, challenged, and valued then you’re already succeeding.

Even if your cones are still in the car.

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Final Whistle

Being neurodivergent and female in sport can sometimes feel like standing out for all the wrong reasons. But over time, I’ve realised something important: the qualities I worried made me “too different” are actually the things that make me a good coach.

The empathy.

The passion.

The creativity.

The resilience.

The refusal to do things exactly the way they’ve always been done.

Women’s rugby doesn’t need more people trying to fit into old moulds. It needs leaders brave enough to bring their whole selves onto the pitch. And if you can’t remember your whistle, surround yourself with people who will. Your support network is key here. 

Chaos, tangents, forgotten whistles and all.