Pattern recognition and problem-solving get sold as neurodivergent superpowers. And they are genuinely useful — mine built my whole career. But nobody ever mentions the invoice, and it’s a big one.
Here’s the part the “superpower” framing leaves out: you didn’t get these skills as a gift. You built them under pressure. Reading a room, predicting people’s reactions, solving problems fast enough to stay safe — for a lot of us that started as threat detection. As a different kind of kid, pattern recognition was how you saw the bully coming; problem-solving was how you survived an education system your attention couldn’t sit still for. They kept you afloat. That’s not a perk. That’s a survival mechanism with a price tag.
The invoice isn’t just the masking
Everyone talks about the cost of masking, and that’s real. But there’s a second, quieter charge that took me until my forties to notice: the price is what you didn’t learn instead.
I got very, very good at solving other people’s problems. Good grades I never had to work for. A career in IT, which was perfect — problem-solving and pattern recognition are the core of it. Coding, then building software houses, startups, enterprise, venture after venture. And the through-line, when I finally looked: I’m brilliant at making other people rich.
What nobody taught me — what I never had the bandwidth to learn, because I was too useful exactly where I was — were the skills that make you independent. Selling. Pricing. Asking. Positioning. Walking up to people, finding the pain they actually have, and only then reaching for a solution. The skill I was missing was never the ability to solve problems. It was everything that comes before a problem gets handed to you.
”So good at solving problems nobody wanted us to solve”
A lot of engineers are autistic — go into any team and you’ll find us. And we’re extraordinary at solving problems that, quite often, nobody asked us to solve. That’s the shape of the whole thing: enormous capability, pointed wherever someone else aimed it, because we were never given the other half of the toolkit — the half that lets you point it at your own life.
That, to me, is the real bill. Not just the masking. The years of compounding skill that made everyone around me richer while the independence skills sat un-learned.
Why I’m building for this gap
I ran out of energy eventually — some random life events, then the diagnosis — and realised I didn’t want to keep doing it. I wanted to look after myself and my family, not just the next company.
So this is the gap I’m building into. Alongside the maths game I made with my son (which is genuinely going places now), I built a tool for myself — part agent, this whole AI thing — that helps me run a business with an ADHD brain: managing the work, running campaigns, doing research, keeping me on track. I’m repackaging it so it’s useful whether you’re running your own thing or working inside a company. Because the avenue I keep seeing uncovered is exactly this: neurodivergent people struggling at work who were never taught how to defend themselves — how to manage distraction, how to collect the information that lets you negotiate better terms, or protect yourself when the layoffs come.
We got sold the superpowers. This is me trying to pay down the rest of the invoice — for me, and maybe for you.
Show transcript
These two things seem like superpowers or perks when you're neurodivergent. But then you realise the price you paid to get them — maybe after you hit the wall, maybe after your diagnosis. Most people don't have that problem, and it's daunting. I've tried to record this so many times, but the cringe tax is paid, so let's do it — no cut, for honesty, at the end. The two things are pattern recognition and problem-solving. I have a dual diagnosis, autism and ADHD, which helped me at school — good grades I never really had to try for. But I was a "trouble kid", always on the move, not paying attention, and I could make up for it with those skills, without even knowing where they came from. I only landed that in my forties. I built a career in IT, which was perfect, because problem-solving and pattern recognition are at the core of it. I started coding, then built software houses for British companies back in Poland, moved to the UK, worked in startups and enterprise, moved between many ventures. And I realised I'm so good at it — at solving problems for other people, making other people money. I'm very good at making other people rich. But no one taught me how to look after myself, because no one taught me the social skills I had to build. Problem-solving and pattern recognition started as threat detection and survival — as a different kid, not to be bullied all the time, to survive an education system despite my lack of attention. It kept me afloat so I could finish school, find friends, get on with life. And it was helpful, until I started to run out of energy. Some random events happened, and I realised I don't want to just keep making other people rich; I want to look after myself and my family. The skill I was always lacking was never the ability to solve problems. It was the ability to move out, talk to people, build a network, ask the questions, find the pain they have — and only then look for solutions. Many engineers are autistic; you wouldn't be surprised. We're so good at solving the problems no one wanted us to solve. And that's the biggest price — not even the price of masking, but the price of the missing skills we should have been given, the skills that make us independent. So the thing I'll be building, alongside other projects: you remember the maths game I made with my son? That's going places now. But I also built a tool for myself — partly an agent, this whole AI thing — that helps me manage my ADHD in a business environment: run a company, run social campaigns, do research. A bit of scaffolding for my brain. I'll be repackaging it so it's good for everyone, whether you're running a business or working in a company — because one avenue is completely uncovered. So many neurodivergent people struggle at work because they don't know how to defend themselves, how to manage distraction, how to collect the information that helps them negotiate better terms or protect themselves in case of layoffs. That's what I'll be working on.