This year, on 15th October, I attended the World Usability Congress in Graz and listened to a talk titled “How to accessible usability for neurodivergent people?” by Alide von Bornhaupt. Her presentation focused on how neurodivergent individuals are often overlooked or excluded when designing digital experiences. She shared 3 practical tips for creating more inclusive systems, but it wasn’t the tips that stayed with me. What stuck with me was the underlying idea: how important it is to include people the system was never designed for in the first place. That thought made me pause and reflect on who I could design for in my thesis.
At the beginning of her talk, Alide showed a slide called “Dimensions of Inclusion”, which grouped people based on different traits and abilities. Seeing it made me realize how easily design can fall into the trap of serving only an “average” user, even though such a person doesn’t really exist. It also made me consider neurodivergent individuals, or people who think, learn, and process the world differently, as a meaningful focus for my work. Although I’m not diagnosed as neurodivergent, I recognized parts of myself in what she described. That realization led me to look back on my own experiences and how they shaped my sense of comfort, participation, and expression.
Growing up, I often felt uneasy in social situations. Being surrounded by strangers, answering a question in class when I was the only one who hadn’t raised my hand, or even saying a simple hello to a cashier, all of it felt much bigger than it probably was. I remember watching others interact so easily and wondering why it didn’t come naturally to me. Over time, I noticed that I often withdrew before anyone could exclude me, almost as if I wanted to protect myself from doing something wrong. I wasn’t the loudest or most talkative person, but deep down I knew that this quiet version of me wasn’t all that I was. When I felt safe and comfortable, I could open up, be playful, and connect freely.
Thinking back on this made me more aware of how much our surroundings, whether physical, social, or digital, shape the way we take part in things. Sometimes all it takes is a small detail: the tone of a message, the layout of a space, or a word choice to make someone feel either welcome or invisible. Listening to Alide helped me see that by designing with neurodivergent people in mind, I could also create something that speaks to people like me, those who sometimes feel out of place or unsure how to belong. I want to design experiences where those feelings don’t become obstacles, where participation feels gentle, natural, and safe.
AI was used for corrections, better wording, and enhancements.
