Christine Doyle is an educator, speaker, podcast host, and neurodiversity-affirming psychotherapist with 15 years’ experience specialising in the late-identified Autistic and AuDHD experience in women and AFAB adults.
Following her own late identification as AuDHD, Christine’s work increasingly shifted towards education, speaking, training, and identity integration, centring lived experience and nervous system understanding rather than deficit-based narratives.
Her work explores masking and burnout, sensory honesty, nervous system capacity, hormonal transitions, workplace inclusion, and the psychological impact of being missed in childhood.
Christine delivers speaking engagements, organisational training, webinars, and reflective educational spaces for individuals, professionals, and organisations.
She is the host of the Unlearning Autism podcast and founder of the Wild Women Community.
Testimonials
What my clients Say
Don't just take my word for it! Here is what some of my previous clients have to say about their work with me:
1-2-1 Work with Christine
These 1:1 offerings provide structured, reflective spaces for exploring neurodivergent identity, considering assessment, integrating late identification, or deepening understanding as someone supporting a neurodivergent adult.
Purchase my book
HormoneFULL, Not Hormonal is a narrative-led handbook exploring the impact of hormonal transitions on Autistic AFAB people across the lifespan. Grounded in the lived experiences of 101 Autistic AFAB adults, this book brings together verbatim reflections on puberty, menstruation, pregnancy and postpartum, perimenopause, and menopause — stages that are often poorly understood, minimised, or misattributed within both medical and mental health settings.
What I Offer
Find what you're searching for among my offerings. You can expect:
EMAIL: christine@christinedoyle.ie
PHONE: 087 687 1002
Blog
Autistic conversations need to leave Autistic spaces.
Because the people who most need to understand Autistic experience are often not Autistic themselves.
Workplaces.
Schools.
Healthcare professionals.
Leadership teams.
Families.
Communities.
For too long, Autistic, ADHD and otherwise neurodivergent people have carried the burden of endlessly translating ourselves within environments that still fundamentally misunderstand our nervous systems, communication, sensory realities, burnout, capacity, and ways of being in the world.
That is why I speak.
Not to create more awareness within neurodivergent spaces alone, but to help move these conversations into the wider world where understanding can actually begin to change people’s lives.
Through talks, training, webinars, panels, and organisational conversations, my work focuses on bringing lived Autistic and ADHD experience into the spaces that most need to hear it.
Because understanding changes environments.
And environments change lives.
If your workplace, organisation, school, conference, or event is looking for neurodiversity-informed speaking or training, you can find more information through the link in my bio.
I’m excited for the change to come.
For a lot of neurodivergent people, it’s not that we didn’t care.
It’s that we were in the middle of something when the text came in. It’s that we thought about replying 100 times but as single tasker a with busy brains, it just hadn’t happened.
It’s that the card sat on the windowsill for weeks, months, longer sometimes … while we carried the intention of it every single day.
And eventually shame creeps in.
“It’s too late now.”
And sometimes, with the wrong people, maybe it is.
But with the right people?
The people who understand humanity, capacity, overwhelm, timing, and good intentions? The people who know you.
It’s never too late.
Do you sit in your car when you arrive? And could this be because your busy brain needs to do all those things you thought of while driving before you get distracted by the next space you enter??? No?? Just me so 😂
As an AuDHD my accommodations were invaluable to me, but it was the safety of not ‘being too much’ or needing to ‘hurry up’ that allowed me to return to balance after a busy weekend.
AuDHD is a constant balancing of needs. Has your ADHD ever burnt out your Autistic nervous system?
And that’s a wrap on Season 1 of Unlearning Autism
A huge thank you to everyone who has been part of the podcast so far 💞🌈
To Laura Crowley, Nicola, Laura Guckian, Katie, Eliza, Emma and everyone else who has sat with me in conversation — thank you for your honesty, insight, humour, vulnerability, passion, and lived experience.
A very special thank you to Abs — my producer, first guest, calm presence, companion throughout this journey, and the person who helped bring this podcast into the world from a tiny little idea into something real 🤍
And thank you to Doerte Meyer for composing the beautiful jingle we have all come to know and love.
And thank you to you for listening.
For sharing episodes.
Sending messages.
Having quiet little penny-drop moments.
Feeling recognised in the musings, reflections, tangents, laughter, frustrations, truths, and conversations that unfold each week.
What we are building together matters.
As an AuDHD woman, there is something incredibly powerful about spaces where people no longer feel the need to perform who they are.
Where difference is not something to apologise for.
Where truth is welcomed.
Where people can speak openly and be understood there. And I am really proud of that.
Thank you for being part of it.
And Season 2 is coming soon… with more conversations, more honesty, more musings, and even deeper explorations of the late-identified Autistic and AuDHD experience 🥳
A hack for supporting each other!
Ok I know so many of you know this. I knew it. But it’s only today I took time to slow down and use it. I can do that .. know things but not put them in place .. if that sounds familiar here’s your reminder 🥳
🔔 there is a bell in the profile of everyone you follow
🔔tap on this and you can get notified for any posts of those whose posts you don’t want to miss and those voices you want to amplify
Following an amazing weekend of support at the Neurdiversity Ireland Summit I’ve just added @neurodiversityireland @aoifehughescoaching @emilymcps2004 @mossandsandstudio @ausome_training @regulationbeforecurriculum @emeroneill14 @emermaguireofficial @ot_sorcharice @elisha_caulfield @thejentleparent
My intention to show up for others often doesn’t follow through with this busy brain and often overwhelming life I live so I am hoping this hack makes it easier for me to show up for those I am always cheering along in my head! 🤪
💞let’s spread the love and support each other
🤔If I’ve forgotten you (let’s be honest it’s a likelihood) let me know and I’m happy to cheer you on too 🙌
🤸♀️And if you’ve a hack that helps your busy brain please pop them in the comments 🙏
As an Autistic speaker, I’ve started quietly rebelling against professionalism.
Not professionalism in the sense of being prepared, thoughtful, or caring deeply about my work.
I mean the unwritten rules of professionalism that expect people to suppress their nervous systems in order to appear competent.
The version where professionalism means:
sit still,
make eye contact,
don’t stim,
don’t pause,
don’t wobble,
don’t need support,
don’t be visibly human.
These days when I speak, I support myself properly instead.
I use notes to anchor me. Not because I don’t know my work, but because reducing cognitive load helps me stay present and regulated. The script is gnerally abandoned as I settle and I find my flow.
I prefer to sit or use a lectern.
I listen to music beforehand.
I try not to rush into venues.
I wear clothes that feel safe on my body.
I reduce unnecessary sensory overwhelm where I can.
You will see me twisting jewellery, rocking slightly, looking away while I think, sipping from a straw, and acknowledging the tremble before my voice settles.
That’s not me being less professional.
That’s me working with my nervous system instead of against it.
And honestly? Speaking itself is often less exhausting for me than masking.
What used to drain me was performance - monitoring myself constantly, trying to appear “normal enough”, holding myself rigid, pretending I’m unaffected by intensity.
I’ve also learned to protect the aftermath now too.
My recovery period of low stimulation, no talking, jammies on, bed super early, time in my own world as I slowly come back to me.
For me, meaningful work is sustainable work.
And I think I’m slowly rewriting the unwritten rules of what professionalism is allowed to look like.
