An essential guide to the paradigm shift required to empower your neurodivergent clients.
Many mental health professionals are learning to recognize the ways in which neurodivergence can be part of someone’s identity, rather than a disability. While many neurodivergent individuals have unique support needs, they are not broken, nor do they need to be cured of their neurodivergence.
This neurodiversity-affirming model of care is not a specific set of therapeutic interventions, assessments, or steps a clinician must take to fit into a model. Rather, it is an underlying philosophy that recognizes individuals as the experts on their own lived experience, who can collaborate with mental health professionals to improve this experience.
Those who want to support neurodivergent clients will learn the historical, practical, and clinical contexts of neurodiversity-affirming care. Reaching beyond autism (what many people exclusively associate with the term “neurodiversity”), the book encompasses the wide spectrum of differences in brain function and behavioral traits that form part of the human experience, and which include ADHD, dyslexia, and certain trauma responses and forms of anxiety.
The book explores the nuances of affirming care in practice and the considerations that any provider should be aware of when working with neurodivergent clients. Everyone deserves appropriate support and freedom from the expectation to conform to neurotypical standards; with this trailblazing guide, clinicians can take the first, crucial steps towards meeting their neurodivergent clients’ needs.
This is a good primer for clinicians who are not familiar with how to provide neurodiversity-affirming care. I was hoping for more depth. The writing is also very dry.
When I picked up Neurodiversity-Affirming Therapy, I expected a thoughtful read, something that might gently guide therapists toward being more inclusive of neurodivergent clients. What I didn’t expect was to be so personally moved, challenged, and transformed by a book that is at once accessible, political, and deeply human.
From the very first chapter, Amy Marschall doesn’t hold back. She invites readers—especially mental health providers—to interrogate long-standing assumptions about who holds authority in the therapy room. Her central claim is both radical and simple: the client is the expert of their own experience. And neurodivergent ways of thinking, feeling, and communicating are not pathologies to be fixed but variations to be respected.
“Neurodiversity-affirming mental health care is not a specific set of therapeutic interventions. It is an underlying philosophy that recognizes individuals as the experts on their own experience.”
As someone who has worked within the mental health system for years, I felt this statement land hard. Too often, therapy is still structured around deficit-based language, rigid treatment models, and a quiet undercurrent of compliance. Marschall turns that framework upside down, and not with jargon or posturing, but with clear, honest reflection and a sense of deep respect for those who have been harmed by traditional systems of care.
One of the most powerful aspects of this book is how Marschall redefines neurodivergence—not as a clinical label, but as a lived experience. Her expansive view includes autism, ADHD, dyslexia, PTSD, bipolar disorder, intellectual disability, and more. She reminds us that many neurodivergent people self-identify long before (or instead of) receiving a formal diagnosis.
“Every neurodivergent person with an official diagnosis was self-diagnosed or self-identified before they received their diagnosis.”
This felt affirming to read. The book challenges the idea that only clinicians can confer legitimacy, while also modeling humility around the limitations of professional knowledge. Marschall shows that trust—especially trust in clients—is foundational to ethical care.
Unlike many clinical books that focus on interventions or techniques, this one is driven by a clear ethical stance. It covers topics like trauma-informed intake, inclusive documentation, sensory accommodations, and unmasking in therapy. I appreciated how practical these sections were, with tips that are immediately usable in everyday practice.
Yet, what stuck with me most was not the list of “to-dos,” but the underlying tone: gentle, firm, and unapologetically values-based. Marschall repeatedly reminds therapists that good intentions are not enough. We must continuously reflect, adapt, and, when necessary, unlearn what we’ve been taught.
“Our words reflect our values, and they also inform them.”
That line alone made me pause. As therapists, we spend a lot of time on language—diagnostic, descriptive, and relational. Marschall asks us to be far more intentional in how we speak about (and to) our clients.
There’s a lot to praise here. The book is readable, compassionate, and rooted in both personal and collective experience. It centers the voices of neurodivergent people without romanticizing or oversimplifying their lives. And it names uncomfortable truths—like the systemic failures of diagnostic criteria or the ableism embedded in “gold standard” therapies.
That said, I found myself wanting more depth at times. The book covers a wide range of neurodivergent profiles but doesn’t explore them all equally. Autism and ADHD receive the most attention, while more complex or stigmatized experiences (such as psychosis or intellectual disability) get less space. The focus is primarily clinical, so non-therapists may find it less directly relevant. But these are minor critiques of a text that does what it sets out to do: offer a roadmap for a more just, human, and affirming approach to care.
Reading Neurodiversity-Affirming Therapy felt like a recalibration. It reminded me why I do this work—not to fix, but to witness; not to direct, but to support; not to impose my view of what’s “functional,” but to co-create spaces where people can be fully, unapologetically themselves.
This isn’t just a book I would recommend. It’s one I plan to revisit, quote from, and carry with me—both professionally and personally. If you work in mental health and want to do better by your neurodivergent clients, start here. And then keep listening. Keep learning. And above all, keep letting your clients teach you.