I Thought I Was a Good Manager. Then I Realised What I Was Getting Wrong.

By Eleanor Hecks

I thought being neurodivergent would make me more understanding of employees who worked differently. I knew what it felt like to struggle with expectations that did not fit the way my mind worked. Surely, that experience would make me a more inclusive manager.

But I learned something uncomfortable: understanding my own needs did not mean I understood someone else’s.

I could still make assumptions, misread difficulties and create unnecessary barriers, even when I believed I was helping.

When Malaysia’s Ministry of Human Resources introduced the country’s first Employment Support Guidelines for the Neurodivergent Group, I found myself reflecting on those mistakes. Developed through collaboration between the Social Security Organisation (SOCSO) and Universiti Sains Islam Malaysia, the guidelines emphasize workplace readiness, structured support systems, and practical accommodations for neurodivergent employees.

The initiative reinforced something I had learned through experience: inclusive management requires more than good intentions. It means recognizing that people may need different approaches to communication, expectations, and working conditions.

I am careful not to interpret my experiences as evidence of anyone else’s diagnosis. Instead, I see them as lessons about how management practices can unintentionally create barriers.

Here are five things I wish I had understood sooner.

1. I Thought the Employee Was Disorganized. I Was Wrong.

Early in my management career, I worked with a talented employee who consistently produced good work but struggled to follow our standard processes.

After I explained an assignment during a meeting, they approached it differently than I expected and missed part of the deadline. I assumed they needed to become more organized.

My solution was straightforward: repeat the instructions, emphasize the deadline and check in more frequently.

It did not work.

Because written schedules and firm routines helped me manage my own responsibilities, I assumed a tighter system would help them, too. Instead, the additional reminders created pressure without resolving the confusion.

I was trying to fix the employee before questioning the process.

Eventually, I realized that important instructions were scattered across meetings and written messages. Priorities sometimes changed as projects progressed, leaving the employee to piece together expectations while completing the work.

What I had interpreted as disorganization was partly a response to a system that was more complicated than it needed to be.

Once I consolidated the instructions, clarified priorities and discussed how the employee worked best, their performance became more consistent.

That experience changed how I understood my responsibility as a manager. My job was to establish clear expectations while allowing people different ways to meet them.

I began documenting key directions, making priorities easier to reference and evaluating whether deadlines were realistic rather than automatically treating missed deadlines as evidence of poor commitment.

The experience also reminded me of accessibility in design. The Web Content Accessibility Guidelines provide a framework for making digital experiences more usable. Workplaces need similar intentional thinking.

When a process creates unnecessary barriers, expecting employees to work harder around those barriers does not solve the underlying problem.

Revising my process did not make the employee more capable. It gave them a clearer opportunity to demonstrate the ability they already had.

2. My Kindness Was Making Things More Confusing

I used to believe that softening feedback was the considerate thing to do.

As someone who can be sensitive to how criticism is delivered, I avoided language that might sound too direct. Instead of clearly explaining what needed to change, I relied on hints and gentle suggestions.

One phrase I frequently used was, “You might want to revisit this.”

I remember saying that to an employee whose written assignment had an opening that failed to address its main goal.

They made a few minor edits, but the underlying problem remained.

I initially assumed they had ignored my feedback.

Looking back, I had presented a necessary revision as an optional suggestion and expected them to understand the meaning I had left unspoken.

I thought I was protecting the employee’s feelings. Instead, I was making them guess what I wanted.

That realization challenged my assumptions about considerate communication.

My own preference for receiving feedback did not necessarily reflect what another person needed. For employees who find indirect language difficult to interpret, vague instructions can create unnecessary uncertainty.

I began giving more specific feedback and following up in writing when helpful.

Rather than asking someone to “revisit” an opening, I would explain that the introduction needed to state the assignment’s central argument and identify the information that was missing.

The feedback was not harsher. It was simply more useful.

I learned that clarity and kindness are not opposites. Managers can be respectful, empathetic, and direct at the same time.

Employees should not have to decode hidden meanings to understand what success looks like.

3. Was I Being Unfair by Treating Employees Differently?

One of my biggest concerns as a manager was appearing inconsistent.

I worried that giving one employee flexibility would make others feel they were receiving special treatment.

That concern became real when I allowed an employee to work from home during assignments requiring uninterrupted concentration.

Another team member questioned why the arrangement was not automatically available to everyone.

For a moment, I wondered whether approving it had been a mistake.

As a neurodivergent person, I understood that identical working conditions do not necessarily give everyone an equal opportunity to succeed. Yet as a manager, I still struggled with the idea that fairness might require different forms of support.

I eventually realized I had been confusing fairness with sameness.

Holding everyone to the same standard does not mean everyone must work under identical conditions.

The employee working from home was still responsible for meeting deadlines, producing quality work and contributing to the team’s goals.

What changed was the environment in which they completed those responsibilities.

I also had to learn how to explain such decisions without revealing anyone’s private information.

When questions arose, I kept the conversation focused on shared expectations and explained that different working arrangements could help employees meet the same performance standards.

Accommodations did not remove accountability. They helped address obstacles unrelated to the employee’s ability to do the job.

This distinction matters for business leaders because flexibility should not be confused with lowering expectations.

An employee who needs a quieter workspace, clearer instructions, or a different schedule may still be fully capable of delivering excellent results.

I now see accommodations as part of creating an environment where employees have a fair opportunity to contribute, rather than as optional favors.

4. I Was Fixing Weaknesses Instead of Building Strengths

Early in my career, I believed developing employees meant helping them become equally capable at every part of their jobs.

If someone excelled at creative work but struggled with administrative responsibilities, I focused on improving the weaker area.

I had spent years judging my own performance by how well I could adapt to tasks that drained me. Without realizing it, I applied that same standard to others.

One employee consistently produced thoughtful, creative concepts but struggled to keep our project tracker updated.

I responded by assigning them more administrative work, believing repetition would improve their skills.

Instead, the additional tasks consumed time they could have spent developing ideas. They also did little to improve the administrative skill I was targeting.

I was measuring growth by how well the employee overcame a weakness rather than by the value they brought to the team.

Eventually, I changed my approach.

I paired the employee with a colleague who was skilled in project coordination and replaced lengthy updates with a shorter reporting format.

The employee remained accountable for communicating progress, but the administrative process no longer overshadowed their strongest contribution.

I had mistaken making someone well-rounded for helping them become more effective.

That does not mean employees should never develop skills outside their strengths. Growth remains important, and every role has responsibilities that cannot simply be removed.

But managers should consider whether a particular task genuinely requires improvement or whether the same outcome can be achieved through a better division of responsibilities.

This also requires an environment where employees feel comfortable discussing what helps or hinders their work.

The Chartered Institute of Personnel and Development’s 2024 Neuroinclusion at Work report found that only 53% of respondents said their organization had an open and supportive climate in which employees could talk about neurodiversity.

For managers, that finding raises an important question: how can we design roles around people’s strengths if employees do not feel comfortable discussing their needs?

At the launch of Malaysia’s guidelines, officials described neurodivergent people as national assets with unique potential in high-impact sectors.

That message made me reconsider what employee development should accomplish.

The goal is not to make every employee equally skilled at every task. It is to recognize where people can contribute most effectively while building a team whose abilities complement one another.

5. The Employee Didn’t Change. The Office Did. 

I once watched a capable employee’s performance decline after we moved to a more open office.

Tasks took longer to complete, and the employee appeared increasingly fatigued by the end of the day.

Initially, I focused on the change in their output.

I wondered what had happened to their usual productivity without considering how much their working environment had changed.

When we discussed the problem, I learned that the constant conversations and movement around them made concentrating difficult.

A significant amount of their energy was being spent filtering out distractions before they could focus on their actual responsibilities.

I recognized the feeling.

I had experienced similar exhaustion in certain environments but had never fully connected it to workspace design.

The employee had not suddenly become less capable. The conditions around them had changed.

We introduced relatively simple adjustments.

Noise-canceling headphones helped reduce distractions, while access to a quieter space made it easier to complete demanding assignments. Flexible work-from-home days also gave the employee greater control over their working environment.

These changes helped them manage sensory strain and focus more effectively.

The experience made me realize that a workspace is not neutral.

Office layouts, noise levels, lighting and opportunities for uninterrupted work can all influence how employees perform.

Yet managers often treat these conditions as fixed and expect everyone to adapt.

Malaysia’s employment guidelines recognize workplace modifications and flexibility as forms of support. In my experience, those adjustments do not always require expensive renovations or complicated policies.

Sometimes, the first step is simply asking employees what makes their work unnecessarily difficult.

Final Thoughts: Before You Question the Employee, Question the System 

Looking back, the biggest lesson was not that I needed to become an expert in neurodivergence.

It was that I needed to become more willing to question my assumptions.

I had assumed that the routines helping me stay organized would help everyone. I thought indirect feedback was kinder, identical treatment was fairer and improving weaknesses was always the best path to professional growth.

Each assumption came from a reasonable intention. Each also had the potential to create barriers I did not immediately recognize.

Being neurodivergent gave me insight into my own experiences, but it did not automatically teach me how to understand everyone else’s.

That required listening, adjusting and accepting that my preferred way of working was not necessarily the best way for someone else.

For managers, this is where more inclusive leadership begins.

When a capable employee struggles, the first question should not always be what they need to change about themselves.

Sometimes, the more useful question is: what have I built into the way we work that is making their job harder than it needs to be?

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About the Author

Eleanor Hecks is Editor-in-Chief of business and design publication Designerly Magazine, with bylines featured in publications including Fast Company, HubSpot and Startups Magazine. She writes about the evolving workplace, small business strategy and what it takes to lead effectively in a changing economy.

Read the Chinese article here.