My Brain Doesn’t Learn Sitting Still
After an afternoon of learning and listening to incredible people, I found myself reflecting on the many ways we absorb information — and how perspectives on support can shift depending on whether we're talking about adults or children. It really highlighted just how diverse adult learning styles can be, especially for neurodivergent adults.
Since embracing and advocating for my neurodivergent self, learning has looked very different from what many consider "ideal" conditions. I wasn’t sitting in a classroom, eyes fixed on a speaker, taking pages of notes. Instead, I took movement breaks, completed some chores (winning!), worked from locations that feel comfortable, and relied on constant movement — especially when absorbing large amounts of information. This is what movement‑based learning looks like for me. I used software to support my working memory (which, let’s be honest, isn’t the best), allowing me to revisit and process information at a pace and in a way that works for my neurodivergent learning style.
Had I been in the so‑called “ideal” working environment — a quiet, bright room, sitting still, surrounded by strangers — I would have been battling frustration from suppressing my need to move. For many neurodivergent adults, these environments are anything but ideal. The harsh overhead lighting and glare from a smart board would have triggered nausea and a migraine. On top of that, I’d be fighting impostor syndrome and rejection sensitivity in a room full of professionals I had never met, unable to ask the clarifying questions I needed. Taking my own notes would likely lead to misunderstandings, missing relevant information, and ultimately setting off that negative inner monologue.
So why do so many people assume learning must be still, verbal, and quiet? And why do adaptations seem more understandable when discussing children rather than adults? As if we’re supposed to outgrow our needs or train ourselves to fit into the standard mould of “learning properly.” It’s strange how neurodivergent learning needs are often acknowledged for children but overlooked for adults.
I’m not saying quiet, still, verbal learning doesn’t work — it absolutely does for some, and that’s great! But for many of us, it's quite the opposite. Why do we (both as individuals and businesses) struggle so much to make small adjustments? Is it because change feels scary and familiar feels safe? Is it because “we’ve always done it this way” and sticking to tradition is easier? Is it a lack of time or willingness to truly listen and understand someone’s needs and implement strategies? Or is it because using note‑taking software, fidgeting, or moving around is seen as unprofessional when you have a hidden disability? These are the kinds of inclusive learning environment conversations we need to be having.
I don’t know the answers, but I do know this — since advocating for myself, my confidence has grown, learning has become less stressful (and less painful!), and I’ve felt more comfortable asking for help when needed. Though, let’s be honest — I still need a brain pep talk to remind myself that asking for help isn’t a weakness and it’s okay to need that processing time.
This is partly why I wanted to write this post. I’m proud of the way I learn. I love that we all learn differently. And I truly hope that one day, this is embraced fully — not just for children, but for adults too. Neurodivergent learning styles deserve the same understanding, respect, and flexibility at every age.