Reciprocity, Neurodivergence, and the Cost of Being Overlooked
- Eric Pollard

- Oct 7
- 2 min read

As a neurodivergent professional, I’ve spent much of my career learning how to balance deep empathy with self-preservation.
When you’re wired to give everything—your focus, your care, your creativity—the absence of genuine reciprocity hits differently. Over time, being overlooked, dismissed, or even manipulated teaches you to pull back. Disengagement doesn’t start from apathy; it grows out of self-protection.
For many neurodivergent professionals, that withdrawal shows up quietly: shorter conversations or slower replies, less collaboration, work that’s still good—but no longer exceptional compared to their usual output. It’s not because they’ve stopped caring. It’s because they’ve stopped feeling safe to care.
When disengagement becomes self-preservation
In one of my earlier roles, I discovered what happens when advocacy and reciprocity fall out of balance. I was performing well beyond the scope of my job title, often at the request of my managers. As a result of increasing workloads, I began asking for growth and compensation that matched my output, unique skills and expertise.
Rather than having a productive conversation, my manager engaged in gaslighting—such as telling me to "be your own advocate" while my requests for fair support or compensation were dismissed. Shortly afterwards, I was out of the company altogether, despite exceptional performance and irreplaceable skills.
That moment taught me something crucial: disengagement doesn’t always start from disinterest—it often begins when consistent effort goes unacknowledged or, worse, punished. For neurodivergent professionals who already invest intense focus and emotion into their work, that lack of recognition can flip a switch from over-functioning to self-protecting.
When workplaces meet initiative with dismissal, they teach employees to conserve instead of contribute. When they meet it with respect, they unlock innovation.
A culture of reciprocity
Reciprocity isn't simply about equal exchange -- it's about mutual respect. It's about open and honest communication and creating a culture of transparency. It’s the understanding that energy, effort, and care should circulate, not just flow in one direction. In the workplace, it looks like shared accountability, acknowledgment, and support.
Leaders can cultivate this dynamic by modeling reciprocity themselves:
Notice who’s always giving—and ask what support looks like for them.
Notice who’s disengaging early, and ask what might help re-engage them.
Recognize advocacy as a sign of engagement, not defiance.
Make feedback and appreciation consistent, not conditional.
A healthy professional culture doesn’t just reward output; it values humanity. It understands that when people feel seen, they show up with their full selves—their creativity, their focus, and their empathy.
This shift in perspective became the foundation for my own leadership and consulting practice.
My takeaway
Learning to balance generosity and boundaries has become one of my greatest professional skills. It’s what keeps me grounded, connected, and able to help others build workplaces where empathy is a shared responsibility, not a one-way street.
At Phenyx Consulting, this belief is part of what I do—helping organizations recognize, support, and retain the kind of talent that gives everything when treated with respect.
Because reciprocity isn’t just good ethics—it’s good strategy.


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