5 Common Boundary Issues Neurodivergent Teachers Face

Let's be real—teaching with ADHD or autism can feel like trying to direct a performance while someone keeps turning the lights off and on.

Throw some common boundary issues into the mix and you've got a fun day planned.

It can be hard to keep everyone focused when you can't find your podium.

For years before my ADHD diagnosis, I thought my chronic overwhelm was a personal failure.

Turns out, it wasn't me—but it was in part due to the wobbly boundaries that I had developed.

ADHD and autistic brains bring incredible creativity and perspective to teaching.

Without the proper guardrails, though, we crash and burn.

Spectacularly.

Like 10/10 Olympic level burnout.

Without solid boundaries, you'll find yourself being crabby to your family when you get home (been there).

Or finalizing plans at 1am while inhaling way too many peanut butter pretzels (been there, too).

That's why today we're looking at some common boundary issues.

This is part of the series on understanding neurodivergent boundaries.

You'll find tips on what are boundaries, how to set boundaries, why boundaries matter, and more.

1. Masking at Work: How Neurodivergent Teachers Cope

As an elementary music teacher, I was the queen of masking.

Nothing says “I'm fine!” like teaching 22 first graders how to find rest position.

(If you're not a music person, that is supposed to be silence.)

Meanwhile your sensory system is having a five-alarm meltdown.

Or, I'm sure you know this drill:

• forcing yourself to make eye contact during staff meetings
  
• nodding along when everyone laughs (even though are completely lost)
  
• or holding back your need to move because “adults sit still.”

For me, masking looked like attending school-wide events (not mine) when I desperately needed alone time.

Because I wanted to be supportive of the school and my teammates.

But it came at a cost.

By Friday afternoon, I'd be so depleted I couldn't even form sentences.

Before kids, I could use some non-teaching hours to unwind and restore balance to my system.

But once they came along, it made the recovery process even more challenging.

So no matter how valid the need, the point is it still adds up after a while.

2. People-Pleasing and Overcommitment in ADHD and Autistic Teachers

As a highly sensitive person who wants to include everyone, saying “no” feels like I'm letting someone down.

So instead, I'd say yes to everything and fail myself instead.

You know that moment when your principal says, “We need someone to organize the talent show.”

Yet, somehow makes eye contact with ONLY YOU?

And suddenly you're running a production worthy of Broadway with zero extra planning time?

Between directing the spring musical, running an after-school club, and onboarding several new teachers, I was spread thinner than instant coffee.

The result? Teaching from empty.

My lessons suffered, my health tanked, and don't even ask about my laundry situation.

(Let's just say my “clean clothes chair” was doing some heavy lifting.)

3. Sensory Overload in the Classroom: Managing Overstimulation

The fluorescent lights buzzing like angry wasps.

The squeaky chairs that might as well be fingernails on a chalkboard.

The mysterious lunch room smell that haunts you for hours.

Welcome to sensory overload land, population: us.

Teaching music meant constant sound (some musical, some…decidedly not).

By afternoon classes, every sound felt like it was out to startle me.

What actually helped:

• Noise-canceling headphones during prep periods (super helpful)
  
• White noise machines
  
• Dimming the lights when possible
  
• Creating a signal with my teaching partner for “I need 2 minutes of quiet”
  
• Being honest with students: “Ms. G.'s brain needs a reset moment”

4. Overly Identifying with Others' Emotions

As a highly sensitive and empathetic person, I absorb emotions like my kids used to absorb fruit snacks.

(Completely and without hesitation. With abandon.)

Great for building student relationships, terrible for my mental health.

I could tell when a student was having a rough day before they even spoke.

I'd spend lunch breaks brainstorming solutions to fix everyone's problems.

Meanwhile, my own emotions got stuffed down with my half-eaten lunch.

It took effective therapy and time to realize:

I can't be everyone's emotional support human and still have enough energy to be fine.

5. Communication Challenges for Neurodivergent Teachers

My ADHD brain needs processing time or everything comes out wrong.

But in teaching, you're expected to have immediate, perfect responses….

especially during parent conferences or observations.

Having someone say “What do you think?” and my mind going blank made me feel terrible for a long time.

Until I realized the problem wasn't my understanding, but how the information was presented.

What works for my brain:

• “Can you email me the highlights?” (sounds better than “I will 100% forget everything you just said”)
  
• “Let me think about that and get back to you tomorrow” (instead of completely freezing)
  
• Having a trusted colleague who could help me prioritize what to do first, second, and third

Beyond the Five: Continuing the Conversation

This is just the beginning of the conversation.

As a justice seeker and squeaky wheel (my words, not yours!), I know there are many more boundary violations we experience.

I'd love to hear YOUR boundary struggles and solutions.

After all, I created this blog because I was tired of feeling alone in these challenges.

Key Takeaways

Remember: Setting boundaries isn't selfish—it's self-preservation.

For years, I believed my struggles were personal failures rather than contextual.

Don't waste years like I did thinking you just need to “try harder.”

Start with one tiny boundary this week.

Maybe it's taking an actual lunch break in your car (with snacks that didn't expire two years ago).

Or simply saying, “Let me look at my calendar first.”

Your future self will thank you.

It's hard to be at 100% all the time, and you shouldn't have to.

Build your resilience with firm(er) boundaries and breathe a little easier.