I wasn't prepared for the grief

The grief and burnout has lasted longer than I expected.

neurodivergent women burnout coaching — *Photo by* *Engin Akyurt* on *Unsplash*

This post was originally published on The NeuroSparkly Academic Substack in August 2025.

When I left academia over 6 months ago, I thought I was prepared. I’d made the decision, had a (rough) plan, was genuinely excited about becoming a coach and solopreneur.

But nobody warned me about the identity grief that would follow.

Who was I without being employed in the academy? Without colleagues to collaborate with? Without sharing knowledge and supporting students? Without the structure that had defined my professional life for over a decade?

The grief came in waves and was visceral. I felt it in my heart. What was all that hard work for? I really wanted to make a difference and it felt like the opportunity to do that was lost.

Here’s the thing I discovered through my own ADHD coaching journey... I realised I was grieving someone I didn’t really want to be. That academic identity I was mourning? It was an unhealthy version of me.

For years, I’d been the perfect lyrebird — masterfully mimicking what I thought a successful academic should sound like.

academic burnout support Australia — *Photo by* *Geoffrey Moore on Unsplash*

I also had an impressive bower with a collection of glittering achievements — publications, presentations, service work — while working ridiculous hours to keep up with extrinsic and neurotypical expectations.

From the outside, it looked like I was succeeding. Inside, I was cycling through ADHD burnout until I couldn’t mimic the performance any more.

I had lost my sparkle.

Everything shifted when I realised I wasn’t grieving my authentic self — I was grieving a performance that had been slowly destroying me.

Through coaching, I finally got to know my authentic self — through fully understanding my spiky ADHD brain — my strengths and challenges. I discovered what I actually needed to flourish, and how support looked different for someone like me.

The university system couldn’t give me what I needed: systems that supported my neurodivergence, time and space to be human, to think and reflect, permission to work with my strengths instead of against them, and recognition that my neurodivergent mind was an asset.

Now I’m re-authoring something different.

A professional identity based on who I actually am — not who I thought I should be. It’s really messy and uncertain sometimes, but I’ve discovered my gold and have started to sparkle again. I’m in control of success on my terms.

surviving to thriving ADHD academic. Neurodivergent career coaching Australia — *Photo by* *Duncan McNab* on *Unsplash*

Now I help other mid-career neurodivergent women professionals navigate this experience, because the choice between success and authenticity is a false one.

If something feels misaligned in your work life, trust yourself and pay attention to that feeling.

What would change if you stopped performing and started to sparkle as your authentic self?