When I first started thinking seriously about pricing my work, imposter syndrome showed up almost immediately.
At the beginning, I felt like an “unknown”. Even though I knew my skills, experience, and depth, there was a persistent question in the background: why would someone choose to pay for my services if they don’t know me yet?
Because this work isn’t a physical product, it can be harder to see or quantify its impact. Testimonials are meaningful and affirming, but there’s always that quiet, irrational fear that people might think you’ve exaggerated them — or worse, made them up. That discomfort sits alongside a deeper worry: the fear of excluding people who might otherwise rely on funded services to access the support they need.
Pricing in wellbeing, coaching, and neurodivergent-affirming work often feels like trying to balance multiple truths at once — reflecting your experience, skill, and expertise, while also honouring the impact you make for clients and staying aligned with your values.
Over the last few years, that internal tension has softened. I’ve accumulated far more knowledge and experience, and I now have consistent outcomes to show through wellbeing measures and client feedback. The work has become clearer, more grounded, and more evidence-based — and that matters.
My journey: how the work has grown (and deepened)
When I first started, my work was piecemeal. I picked up bits of training here and there, alongside 1:1 support, but nothing felt consistent or fully formed.
Alongside supporting individuals, I spent a significant amount of time learning – developing my practice, building my understanding, and sitting on strategic boards to listen carefully to what neurodivergent people were saying they actually needed. Not just locally, but nationally too.
Over time, the depth of my work increased significantly. My understanding of services, systems, procedures, and the many presentations of autism and ADHD – and the why behind them – grew in ways that can’t be rushed or shortcut. Many clients are now pleasantly surprised by the breadth and depth of my knowledge, because it’s grounded not only in training, but in lived experience, pattern recognition, and real-world application.
Delivering funded and commissioned contracts has also allowed me to further hone and develop my skills. With that has come confidence — not arrogance, but a quiet certainty that I know what I’m doing, that I deliver to a high standard, and that my work genuinely makes a positive difference.
The myth of “hourly value” vs real value
One of the biggest challenges I’ve wrestled with is how poorly hourly pricing reflects the reality of my work.
An hourly rate simply cannot capture the depth of knowledge, preparation, reflection, and emotional labour that sits around the session itself — nor the impact that clients experience beyond that hour. The value isn’t just in the time spent face-to-face; it’s in the consistency, containment, thinking between sessions, bespoke resources, and the cumulative effect of feeling understood and supported.
When you work relationally, especially in neurodivergent-affirming spaces, the impact is rarely linear or immediate — but it is real, meaningful, and lasting. Reducing that to an hourly figure often diminishes what the work actually involves.
Neurodivergence & pricing: why underpricing is so common
Underpricing is incredibly common among neurodivergent practitioners — and for understandable reasons.
Imposter syndrome plays a big role, as does the difficulty of knowing how to value your work when there’s very little that feels directly comparable. Much of this work is bespoke, relational, and shaped by lived experience, which makes benchmarking difficult.
There’s also a tendency to minimise what comes naturally to us, forgetting that ease doesn’t mean lack of skill. Add in strong values around fairness, access, and justice, and it’s easy to default to charging less than the work deserves.
None of this is a personal failing — it’s a pattern worth noticing, naming, and gently unlearning.
What changed for me in 2026?
As I approached 2026, I realised something had to shift.
What I was charging no longer reflected my expertise, the labour involved, or the responsibility I hold when supporting people. It didn’t fully honour the years of learning, development, delivery, and emotional work that now underpin my practice.
I wanted a pricing structure that was fair — to my clients and to myself. Something clear, coherent, and aligned with the work as it exists now, not how it looked when I was just starting out.
Making that change has brought a sense of relief and alignment. It feels steadier. More honest. And ultimately, more sustainable.
A gentle reflection for you, if this resonates
If you’re reading this and quietly wrestling with pricing, growth, or self-worth in your own work, you’re not alone.
You might want to pause and ask yourself:
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Does my pricing reflect the work I’m doing now, or the work I used to do?
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Am I valuing the impact of my work, or just the time it takes?
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What would sustainability look like if I trusted my growth?
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What would change if I stopped treating evolution as something to justify?
These aren’t questions with quick answers — but they’re worth sitting with.
Revisiting pricing isn’t a failure. It’s a sign of growth.
As our skills deepen, our confidence settles, and our work evolves, it’s natural — and necessary — for our structures to change too. Valuing your work doesn’t mean losing compassion or accessibility; it means recognising that sustainability is part of ethical practice.
For me, starting 2026 with clarity around my pricing feels like an act of alignment. One that honours my journey, my clients, and the work we do together.
If you’re in a similar place, consider this your permission to revisit, refine, and evolve — without apology.
Writing this has reminded me that pricing isn’t just a business decision – it’s deeply personal. It reflects how we see ourselves, how we value our time and energy, and how we want to show up in the world. Choosing to align my pricing with my growth feels less like “charging more” and more like finally being honest.