Neurodiversity and the healing power of nature – discovering myself in the ocean
The Diagnosis I Never Expected
I just received my neurodoversity diagnosis over the weekend; with ADHD, combined type, and autism.
How did I get to 46 without anyone ever noticing or telling me? Now I know for sure, it’s very very obvious. In fact my diagnosis has come back as meeting the threshold of ‘severe’.
I’ve managed two university degrees, post graduate education, solo parenting three kids and setting up a business and I thought the struggles we have faced were the same as the rest of the neurotypical population?
For decades I thought I was just scattered, forgetful, careless, sensitive, intuitive, empathetic, introverted and anxious. My family have always joked about the amount of shit that always seems to happen to me, but that I always find a way to work it out. Now I understand it was the ‘ADHD tax’ of masking and trying to fit in and cope, without understanding that I wasn’t coping with the demands of my life.
A Lifetime of Coping and Questing
I somehow seemed to manage my brain through sport and travel. What I thought was spontaneity that led to my greatest travel adventures; I now understand was my constant quest for dopamine. I never felt settled and even now, with three young children, I find myself day dreaming about running away to sail the high seas on a little sail boat together (much to the disdain of my autistic children, who prefer routine and predictability).
The Ocean as My Constant
The one constant through my life has been the ocean. I was raised by the North Sea and as soon as I finished university (the first time), I ran away to work on boats. I dived in the Maldives, I moved to Australia and began to surf every day, after I had my children I started freediving and launched my underwater photography career.
I’ve always know that the ocean is the only place that my brain is quite and could articulate this effect clearly with words. I’ve always been pulled to the ocean and have to at least see it every couple of days, otherwise I start to feel restless. I’ve witnessed clients transform in front of my eyes on underwater photoshoots. I’ve witnessed my own children transform from a state of mania and rage to peace and tranquillity upon stepping foot on the sand of our local beach. To now understand why, blows my mind!
Becoming an Expert Masker
Like many late-diagnosed autistic women, I now understand that I have become an expert at masking. I pushed through burnout, reshaped myself to meet expectations (mostly my own, or perhaps those set by my post war born parents) and excused the overwhelm as character flaws. I told myself I was resilient. In fact I have always been told by those around me (even mental health professionals) that I am resilient. I told myself everyone else was just coping better because they had a more supportive village or better access to resources.
The Gift of My Children
Then came my children. Two of them are diagnosed neurodiverse and I’ve just started the diagnostic process for the third. Despite having the same diagnoses, their journeys are very different. In advocating for them; fighting for therapies, learning to read their cues, building safety into every day; I was forced to look into a mirror. Even though their struggles echoed mine, I didn’t recognise it because I have been so disconnected from who I truly am, I don’t really know who I am. That’s a pretty scary feeling to have in midlife.
It was only when one of my child’s therapists told me last year “you are definitely ADHD”, that the penny dropped. Since that time I have read so much about the female presentation of ADHD and Autism, it astonishes me how clearly I fit the profile. But female neurodiversity is still so misrepresented and misunderstood.
What I missed in myself, I recognised in them. I truly feel now that my children have been sent to heal generations of trauma and misunderstanding. It’s like working backwards through the generations. Through my daughter’s coeliac diagnosis, I have now been diagnosed. Through my children’s neurodiversity diagnosis; I have now been diagnosed. What a gift they have given our family, to learn how to support our beautiful brains.
Science Behind the Sanctuary
It turns out my body wasn’t lying, when I found peace and connection through water. What I have been learning the last two years alongside my underwater photography and before I had even considered my own neurotype; is that there is no science behind what I have experienced.
Blue Mind theory evidences that contact with water is proven to reduce cortisol, increase dopamine and shift us into calmer, more creative states. The sound of waves, the visual expanse of blue, the sensory immersion; all soothe the nervous system. Source
The mammalian dive reflex is our physiological emergency override; a primal switch that slows the heart, conserves oxygen and brings the body back to balance the moment our faces touch water. It’s hardwired into every human, yet for me it felt like a revelation: this was why the ocean calmed my children and I when nothing else could. Source
The ocean has become my sanctuary and my higher purpose to serve others.
From Pain to Purpose
When I walked away from a corporate career in law that was burning me out, I didn’t know I was neurodivergent. I only knew I needed to breathe. I built a life, one photograph at a time, that gave me space to mother, to create, to live closer to the rhythms of tide and swell and now I understand, to the creative needs of my own brain.
Now I see my work differently. My underwater art is not just about beauty or technique. It is about representation. It is about diversity; of bodies, of minds, of ways of being. It is about showing that regulation, healing and creativity are not luxuries. They are necessities to the human spirit and the ocean is one of the oldest medicines we have.
My mind (and body) are now being challenged in a way I have searched for my entire life. I’m guessing one of my ‘special interests’ and hyperfocus is people. I’m fascinated by the community of ocean lovers who embody ecological agency, where the ocean can dissolve the binaries of male and female, chaos and calm, body and mind, brokenness and wholeness, power and powerless.
I feel an intrinsic connection to other ocean dwellers, where we share the same values and unspoken connection, as though it’s beyond the physical experience of swimming, surfing or diving. I’m motivated to inspire more people to make time to immerse themselves in nature and connect with their environment; for personal fulfilment, as an antidote to burnout and the business of our modern world, but also as a way to instil passion in others to take stewardship of their natural environment, ecosystems and species within it.
Why I Share This Now
I share this openly now because I strongly believe that if you can’t see it, you can’t be it. Let my journey cleanse, connect and inspire others, as the ocean does.
I want others to feel proud of their story and neurotype. I want to represent other women like me to boldly explore their own neurotype and show the world of neurotypicals that there is excitement and beauty in difference.
The ocean taught me that difference is not something to mask, but to embody.
My diagnosis doesn’t define me, but it reframes me. It helps me understand why I was always pulled to the water, why I built a business around it and why I believe so deeply in its healing power.
The ocean has transformed me and through my work, I hope it can transform you too.
An Invitation to the Water
So here’s my invitation: step into the water, in whatever way feels safe for you. Notice how your body responds. Let it remind you that regulation, creativity and belonging are not out of reach.
Keynotes & Further Reading
Blue Mind Theory: Nichols, W. J. (2014). Blue Mind. Explores how water impacts our brains and wellbeing. Overview here
Mammalian Dive Reflex: Review article, Frontiers in Psychiatry (2021), on how the dive reflex can impact stress and nervous system regulation. Read here
Physiology of the Dive Response: National Center for Biotechnology Information (NCBI). Book chapter
Ocean as Therapy: Preliminary study on natural water sounds improving behaviour in teenagers. American Journal of Sociological Research (2012)