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 💝

Freya doesn’t always rest perfectly.

She’ll push through if there’s a ball involved; high drive, easily distracted, and carries her own history.

But over time, she’s learned what helps her settle:

- A fluffy blanket.
- Sensory roles on the grass.
- Snuggles on the couch.

She comes back to those things, again and again.

Not perfectly. But consistently.

And I think that’s what regulation actually looks like. Finding what works for you. Not getting it right all the time. Just learning what helps, and returning to it.

Still learning from her, every day!

“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.

Pics from a recent long weekend.

Exploring somewhere new on an impromptu lunch date with hubby, trying Korean tapas for the first time (highly recommend Seoul Hoppers - Korean Tapas Bar Leederville), and walking into a place where the service was so warm we left feeling like family.

Followed by a wander through a record and bookstore… which is a slightly dangerous combination for me.

Came home with:

– a small stack of books to add to my reading collection
– a Nina Simone album
– and a growing curiosity for jazz and blues

There’s something about these slower, more tangible moments lately — good food, music, books, time together — that just feels… grounding and so good!

I’ve been thinking a lot about something I saw recently — the idea that Autistic people “can’t rest”… that we’re wired to keep going, to push through, and that’s just how we are.

And while that can feel true, it’s not the whole story.

The “we all…” statements, even when well-intentioned, can flatten a lot of nuance, and leave people feeling like they don’t quite fit or that this is the only way to be.

I felt this myself when I was first diagnosed with ADHD. At first, there was a sense of relief — like I’d found something that finally made sense.

But over time, I started to feel a disconnect. What I was seeing didn’t fully reflect my experience… and I found myself feeling like I didn’t quite belong there either. (Later came some more answers in the form of Autism and C-PTSD)

(And honestly, more exhausted than before.)

What I’ve learned since is this:

Rest is a skill.

It’s not always intuitive.
It doesn’t look the same for everyone.
And it’s not about forcing yourself into rigid routines or idealised “self-care”.

It’s about:

✔️ understanding your patterns and capacity
✔️ building supports and tools around you
✔️ creating space to regulate, restore and reset

Slowly. Safely. In ways that actually work for you.

Because pushing through isn’t sustainable.

And we don’t need to earn rest by burning ourselves out first.

Full post on the blog:

Rest is a skill (and I had to learn it the hard way) - Janine Defontaine There's a difference between "this is how my brain works" and "this is a dysregulated state." On learning rest as a skill, not through burnout.

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.

Neurodivergent life. Its all about transitions. Throughout your day. At the end of your day. From one environment to the next. From task to task. Interaction to interaction.

A real big non-coaching call, intensive and motivated computer writing and social media marketing day today, combined with hubby at home from lunchtime, air con man (its fixed yay!) and lots of end of month stuff before a few days off.

Brain is fried.
Eyes are heavy (we joke that my ‘left eye’ is a sign i overdid it or need a break as it goes kinda droopy)
I was irritable when i finished.
Severe stomach issues interrupted my morning (fu #% gluten)
Verbalised to my hubby and (the latter who didn’t care) that i was a bit fried and cranky and needed transition time before i could verbalise or really be social.

30 minutes on the grass, listening to the parakeets, feet stretches in the grass, throwing ball for freya, and a small glass of wine. Slowly recalibrating and looking forward to a few days off the computer.

These are my realities and why i simply cannot push anything near like i used to nor should i. Today i was in flow so i allowed it. But i know this cant be an everyday thing as the consequences on my brain and self are too great.

Side-note (cause i love a good side note); who can type on the iPhone keyboard anymore! Every second word 😆😆🤔😒😡

Have a great and restfully restorative weekend all!

"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/

Freya would like it formally noted that she did not attend the long weekend down south with her family. Instead, she stayed home with her older human sister.

Her official weekend highlights reportedly included:

• multiple ball sessions
• strategic treat negotiations
• high-quality lounging on the couch
• and what I can only assume was an fine-tuned dinner schedule

From all accounts, she had an absolute time, and in true Freya fashion, she has emerged from the weekend:

– regulated
– well-exercised
– and (almost) completely unbothered

There’s something in that. Different humans (and dogs) restore in different ways.

Some need beaches, escapes and family.
Some need routine, familiarity and their own couch.
And some need a mix of all of the above!

Energy management isn’t one-size-fits-all — even in this household.

Back in the office today with my favourite co-regulator at my tail.

No filter needed for a long weekend away with family down south including a V day brunch with siblings and co at .

Sun, serenity, a few bevvies (but not too many) and lots of niece and nephew cuddles, plays and giggles (including with my fur-niece Mya). The perfect weekend really … along with the best gluten free pizza ever so far from . It was all sooo good for the brain, body and soul.

Side note: also thoroughly enjoyed playing DJ on the 7 hour roundtrip … and a new appreciation for tracks from my childhood including Simple Minds ‘Alive and Kicking’. I mean how good is that song? Note to self: need to listen to music as i work from home during my days 🤔

This quarter, I’m letting my values do a bit of the heavy lifting, being guided by health, authenticity, and integrity, and I’ve broken the next few months into four simple focus areas:

1. Business
2. Learning
3. Connection
4. Health

Nothing fancy. And just enough structure to help me stay grounded and intentional.

Alongside that, I’m continuing to check in on my weekly and monthly capacity, adjusting as I go rather than pushing through (which, historically, hasn’t worked out so well 😅).

The last few weeks have been a timely reminder of why this matters.

My husband and I took time out for our 10-year wedding anniversary - a staycation, space to reconnect, no agenda, and lots of celebrating. It was one of those pauses that gently reminds you what’s actually important.

It reinforced something I’m prioritising this year:

Rest and connection aren’t rewards for working harder.

They’re part of how we stay well, how we interrupt the burnout cycle, and how we live more joyfully - especially as neurodivergent humans.

And honestly? If I don’t schedule these things in, they’re the first to disappear.

Right now, I’m feeling calm, clear, and connected, and really grateful that I made space for that.

Note to self: do more of this. 🌿