I Didn’t Know I Was Supposed to Feel Shame—The Power of Inclusive Workplaces
I started my business, MindMosaic Inclusive HR, to support neurodivergent individuals in the workplace. I wanted to help them be understood, better understand themselves, and access the tools and frameworks that support different ways of thinking. I wanted to ensure that others didn’t have to go through what I did in my earlier years—feeling inadequate in systems that weren’t designed for minds like mine.
As someone diagnosed with ADHD at 40, later discovering I’m also dyslexic and likely autistic, I’ve spent the last ten years deep-diving into how different brains work.
For years, I willed my brain to do what I saw others doing. When I finally understood how different neurotypes process information and work best, everything changed. I realized that with the right information, all minds can be happy and productive.
That’s when I discovered Universal Design—the idea that we can create flexible, accessible spaces and systems that allow everyone to work at their best without needing to ask for permission. I fell in love with this concept because it just is—no red tape, no medical notes—just simple, built-in supports that benefit everyone.
Discovering Universal Design (Backwards, Of Course)
I stumbled into the connection between neurodivergence and universal design in a backward sort of way. For nearly 15 years, I worked for service providers supporting neurodivergent youth. Our team was a mix of clinicians and therapists, most of whom were neurodivergent themselves. I like to call it “Unicorn Land”—a place where individual needs weren’t debated; flexibility and support were just available. And it was no big deal.
Typically, my cornucopia of neurotypes would struggle in a traditional workplace, but in Unicorn Land, none of that mattered. I worked hybrid before hybrid was a thing—two days in the office, where I thrived on social energy, and the rest of the week working in my PJs, deep in focused, heads-down work.
If I needed support? No problem. I had neurodivergent clinicians at my fingertips.
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No focus? Try a movement break.
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A hard time sitting still? You can use a wiggle chair or weighted lap pillow.
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Struggling with distractions? You can work in a quiet space.
There were no rigid expectations about where or when we worked. Adjustments weren’t accommodations—they were just part of the workplace.
From Unicorn Land to EDI & Workplace Design
When I returned to university to study equity, diversity, and inclusion (EDI), I finally learned the theory behind what I had been living. Intersectionality, universal design, valuing people as whole individuals—it all clicked.
Later, when I began working as a consultant, I was surprised when people told me they admired how open I was about my ADHD and that I didn’t feel ashamed.
But why would I?
In Unicorn Land, everyone was open about their strengths AND their weaknesses. We worked together to ensure that everyone had what they needed to be successful. No one was made to feel “less than.” My workplace wasn’t designed to fix people—it was designed to support them.
And it worked. Really well.
Neurodivergent Teams Make Businesses Better
There are mountains of research showing the benefits of neurodiverse teams. But when you build a team with a mix of thinkers and abilities, the magic happens when you focus on how the whole team benefits.
I once ran an HR workshop, and during introductions, someone said they had sent them to find out “the bare minimum legal accommodations” they had to provide. I get it. It’s hard to support what you don’t understand.
I hate to admit it, but I once didn’t hire someone because I felt too busy to adjust my training process. After some reflection, I realized that there’s something more challenging than supporting that person. It is being that person.
Equity isn’t about treating everyone the same—because we aren’t the same.
A Shift in Thinking: It’s Not About Medical Notes
Supporting employees shouldn’t require them to prove they deserve it. Workplaces are moving away from requiring medical documentation, and it makes sense.
What about the people who don’t even know they’re neurodivergent? What about the cost of diagnosis? The long waitlists? The fear of disclosure?
The surprising thing is,
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Most workplace adjustments cost nothing.
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The rest typically cost less than $500.
The real barrier isn’t the cost; it’s the fear of asking. What good is an accommodation if someone’s too afraid to ask for it? How do you foster innovation if people are scared to speak up? When people feel safe being who they are and have the support they need, they work hard and stick around. This trust cycle fuels success, retention, and engagement.
Equity isn’t about treating everyone the same—because we aren’t the same.
When we create flexible, supportive workplaces, we improve work for everyone. After all, the best workplaces don’t just accommodate differences—they celebrate them.
Recently, I connected with Sam, a tech leader in Australia who embraces universal design in her organization. She told her team:
“I don’t need to know your label; I just need to know how you work best.”
Isn’t that beautiful?
Lisa Lewis, CPHR, founder of MindMosaic Inclusive HR is a speaker, consultant and advocate for neuroinclusion in the workplace. Drawing from her lived experience and leadership background, she helps organizations rethink how we communicate, connect, and truly include.
