The Role of Interoception in Neurodiversity: How Feeling What’s Inside Shapes Life on the Outside

Imagine being constantly told to “focus” or “calm down”—when you don’t even realise you’re hungry, thirsty, or anxious.
For many neurodivergent children, this is not a behavioural issue. It’s interoception.

Interoception is our ability to sense internal bodily states—like pain, temperature, hunger, or needing the toilet.
For autistic or ADHD individuals, these signals can be muted, delayed, or overwhelming.

Dr. Kelly Mahler, interoception expert, puts it simply:
“When we can’t accurately detect our body signals, we may not know how we feel, or what we need to feel better.”

In education, this often gets misinterpreted as disruption, defiance, or lack of emotional regulation.

Take Jasmine, an 11-year-old autistic girl I once supported. She would often become tearful and unable to participate by mid-morning. Staff assumed it was anxiety. It wasn’t—at least, not initially.
After a deeper assessment, we realised she couldn’t recognise when she was thirsty. Her tears were her body’s desperate way of alerting her—and everyone else.

We introduced hydration check-ins, movement breaks, and emotion coaching linked to body signals. Her engagement—and confidence—skyrocketed.

Stats show up to 80% of autistic individuals and 70% with ADHD experience interoceptive differences.
But how many teachers, SENCOs, or pastoral leads are trained to spot this?

What if every school had a sensory-informed interoception toolkit?
What if we taught children to name what their stomach, heartbeat, or muscles were telling them—before their behaviour did?

How many Jasmines are in our classrooms right now—punished for not feeling things the “typical” way?

How do we build educational spaces that respond to internal worlds—not just external behaviour?
Let’s start with curiosity, not compliance.