Janine Defontaine

This week I had the privilege of delivering two Neurodiversity workshops for MIFWA.

Monday: Supporting Neurodivergent Staff — a 2-hour workshop for people leaders. Eight managers showing up genuinely curious, asking honest questions, and leaving with real things to take back to their teams, like ‘Checking in with people who go under the radar’ and ‘Being more curious and open to different brains’.

Thursday: Thriving at Work — Neurodivergent Style. A 3-hour session for peer workers and staff. Twelve people. Feedback like 'mask less' and the value in ‘real conversations’ and people sharing their lived experiences … that I'll be sitting with for a while.

Across both sessions, what stood out most wasn’t just the strategies or frameworks — it was the honesty and openness in the room.

We talked about things like:

• overwhelm and burnout
• masking and exhaustion
• unclear expectations and hidden labour
• capacity vs capability
• sustainable ways of working
• practical supports that actually help

But we also talked about strengths, self-understanding, flexibility, curiosity, and the importance of creating workplaces where people feel safe to work differently.

Personally, I left both workshops feeling incredibly grateful. AND I'm not wiped out, brain-fried. or non-verbal. I'm feeling tired but also pretty damn uplifted!

Working with MIFWA always feels like coming home — I’ve worked with them for a number of years across my career in varying capacities. And it really lifted my heart to see some familiar faces in the room :)

Thank you again to everyone who attended, contributed and supported so generously.

Two workshops. Twenty people. One very full heart 💝

“Just push through.” It’s one of those phrases that sounds helpful. Motivating, even.

And sometimes, it can be.

But as a long-term strategy? It’s not particularly sustainable.

And especially if “pushing through” isn’t something you do occasionally, but something you’ve built your life around. Which plenty of us ADHD and AuDHDers have done - through no fault of our own (been there, many times!).

The issue isn’t effort or capability.

The issue is what happens from the constant pushing and ignoring any warning signs.

You end up with:

• bigger crashes
• longer recovery time
• multi-systemic symtpoms (think whole of body and mind)
• and a cycle that becomes harder to interrupt

There’s a different way to approach this. And it's not by removing effort altogether.

But by identifying and working with your capacity, not against it. And by building in strategies and supports that mean you don’t have to rely on pushing through just to get by.

It’s Autism Awareness Month. And if I’m honest, I have growing mixed feelings about “awareness”.

Awareness without understanding doesn’t change much.
Awareness without acceptance can still feel isolating.
For me, it’s about more than awareness.

It’s about lived experience, meaningful change, and feeling comfortable in our own skin — with the understanding and support around us.
It’s about connection.
It’s about not feeling so alone in something that can often feel isolating.

That’s why I’ve always shared my story — even before I had the language for it.

Because many workplaces — and much of the world — still aren’t designed with neurodivergent people in mind.

For me, this has never been about a month.

It’s about how we genuinely live, work, and support each other every day.

I’ll be sharing a few reflections over the next few weeks as part of that ongoing conversation — and you’re always welcome to share your thoughts too, here or via DM.

"Just because something is good for you doesn't mean it's good for YOUR body."

Last year I started reformer Pilates.

Everyone said it would help with stability [especially for someone who's hypermobile]. And it seemed like the right choice.

But then I started noticing something.

I'd leave class feeling shaky, tearful, really fatigued — sometimes unable to stop crying (like, real messy 'end of the world' crying).

My body (and brain) was trying to tell me something.

Deep down I knew something wasn’t right. (and it wasn't because of 'hormones').

So I stopped. And it felt like failure at first. I'd paid for classes. I'd committed. I'd told people I was doing it.

But here's what I've learned: building a healthier life with ADHD isn't about following the "right" advice or optimising everything.

It's about finding what actually works for YOUR brain and body — and having the courage to stop things that don't, even when you've invested time, money, or effort, or are being told 'it will be good for you'.

These days? I'm back to basics.

Learning to use the right muscles as I learn to walk properly on my treadmill at speed 5 or less.

Cutting back on 'doing all the things' to support my body, and instead paring it back to work with my chiro and an exercise physiologist who understands hypermobility and ADHD.

And gentle, retsorative movement that works with my body (and brain), not against it.

In my latest blog post, I share:

• What's genuinely helped (protein, electrolytes, capacity planning, sensory awareness)
• Building a support team (not doing it alone)
• Why things stop working (and what to do about it)
• Permission to do things differently

This isn't a prescriptive "10 steps to fix yourself" post. It's the messy, real version — trial, error, and a lot of self-compassion.

If you're navigating your own journey of building a life that fits your brain, this one's for you.

Link to the full post: https://janinedefontaine.com/a-healthier-life-with-adhd/