Too Complex for the System: Too Human for its Limits?

Imagine trying to thrive in a world that constantly tells you that you don’t fit. Not because you’re broken, but because the system refuses to bend.

My name is Ava McAuley, I am the author of this blog, as well as an independent autistic trainer and activist with a deep-rooted passion for neurodiversity, shaped by my lived-experience. I deliver autism training to organisations and communities, helping others gain a real understanding of what it means to be neurodivergent in a world not built for us. I am also on the committee for a local autism self-advocacy group, where I engage with policymakers to push for meaningful change. In addition, I carry out research and media work with Inclusion London, who campaigns for equality, inclusion, and human rights for neurodivergent people.

I am passionate about giving people an insight into what its really like living with autism in a world that wasn’t designed for us. I dive into research around autism and neurodiversity and use it to challenge outdated narratives and the stigma that still dominates conversations today.

As the truth is, if people like me don’t stand up for us neurodivergent individuals, then who will? Change has to start somewhere, and sometimes it begins with simply saying: this isn’t good enough anymore.

Falling Through the Gaps

I have been let down by the system more times than I can count. I’ve fallen through every net that was supposed to catch me. I have lived in multiple residential and supported living settings, one by one, they broke down. Why? Because I was deemed “too complex.”

Apparently, my profile was too unique, too different, to fit into boxes that professionals expected me to. However, here’s the thing: maybe the problem isn’t people like me. Maybe the problem is the boxes themselves.

When a system can’t handle difference, it calls it “complex.” When it can’t understand you, it calls you “challenging.” However, what’s really challenging is trying to exist in structures that were never built with people like us in mind.

Representing myself

At one point, when fighting to get my college in Brighton, I took my local authority to tribunal. I represented myself in court.

I remember feeling nervous but determined, because if I didn’t speak up, who would? After hearing my case, the judge looked at me and said:

“Would you consider being on my panel when you finish your education? You know more than my panel members.”

That moment hit me hard. For the first time, I realised that my lived experience had value, authority even.

It wasn’t something to hide or apologise for. It was something to use to make change.

Beyond the Labels

Too often, autistic and neurodivergent people are boxed in by assumptions. We’re either “too this” or “not enough that.” The system talks about us instead of with us. It measures our worth by how well we can fit into its expectations.

Research keeps showing what many of us already know, neurodivergence isn’t a deficit. It’s diversity. So, the more society clings to outdated ideas of “normal,” the more it excludes people who could thrive if only given the chance.

Finding My Voice

Outside of activism, I find my peace through creativity, music, trampolining and poetry. I play guitar and drums, and I write lyrics about politics, injustice, and the corrupt systems that shape our lives.

Music became my language when words failed me. Poetry became my space where I could rebuild what the system tried to break. These are the moments where I reclaim control, where I remind myself that I am more than a case file, more than a diagnosis, and more than a label.

Creating Change

We can’t keep pretending that the system works when it so clearly doesn’t. Professionals often say “We don’t know what to do with people like you.” Here’s a thought, maybe they should start by listening.

We don’t need fixing. We need understanding. We need flexibility. We need to redesign the systems that were never built with us in mind.

Until we do, more people like me will keep falling through the cracks, and that’s not a reflection of our “complexity.” It’s a reflection of society’s unwillingness to adapt.

Final Thought

So here’s my message: stop trying to fit autistic people into a world that refuses to bend. Start bending the world.