Asking for Accommodations as an Adult
- Dr Rebecca Hannan

- 21 hours ago
- 4 min read
Most accommodations resources are written for children.
There is a parent, a teacher, a school plan, a meeting where several adults sit around a table and discuss what this child needs. Someone else does the asking. Someone else writes it down and follows it up.
Then you turn eighteen, or thirty-five, or fifty-two, and the infrastructure disappears. You are the one making the request now, usually to a manager who has never thought about it, sometimes to a course coordinator with a form that does not fit your situation, often to a partner who thinks you are making excuses. Usually without a diagnosis letter. Almost always to someone who has decided that you seem fine.
This is the part nobody prepares you for, and it is the part I spend a lot of time on with clients.
Why the asking is the hard bit
For most of the people I work with, identifying the need is not the problem. By the time someone reaches me they usually know exactly what makes things harder. Open plan offices after two in the afternoon. Meetings that materialise with no agenda. Being asked a complex question and expected to answer on the spot. Being told to help out more, without anyone naming which thing, when.
What is hard is asking. And that difficulty has a specific history.
If you spent decades being told you were capable but inconsistent, lazy, too sensitive, or not applying yourself, you learned that needing conditions was evidence of something wrong with you. So you built workarounds privately instead. You came in at six for the quiet hours. You wrote your own agendas. You recovered on weekends and told no one that recovery was what the weekend was for.
Those workarounds are competence, not weakness. But they are invisible, and invisible accommodations have a cost: nobody knows they are load-bearing, so nobody protects them when things change.
Start with the need, not the label
Most requests fail because they are pitched as a diagnosis. You disclose, and now the other person is thinking about a category rather than a situation, and often about what they are allowed to ask you.
A need paired with one specific adjustment is much harder to refuse than a label. Compare "I have ADHD and I struggle with focus" against "open plan afternoons are where I lose most of my focus, so I would like to work from home on Wednesdays and Thursdays, which is when the reports get written."
The second one gives someone something to say yes to.
Four moves make a request land. Name the situation rather than yourself. Ask for one specific thing. Tie it to something the other person already cares about, which at work usually means the output and at home usually means the thing you both want to go better. Then offer a review point, because a six week trial is much easier to agree to than a permanent change.
This is not only a workplace conversation
Most of what gets written about accommodations assumes an employer. But the requests that change daily life the most are often the domestic ones, and they are harder, because there is no policy to point at and the other person is someone you love.
A plain yes or no instead of "maybe later." Being told in advance when plans change, or when people are coming over. Knowing who will be at the family thing and how long you are staying. Having a hard conversation in the car or on a walk rather than face to face across a table. Sending it as a message rather than raising it in the moment. A quiet evening after anything social, taken deliberately rather than collapsed into.
None of that is unreasonable. It is also rarely asked for directly, because it feels like admitting to a deficiency in front of someone whose opinion matters.
You may not have to disclose
This surprises people. You are entitled to ask for an adjustment without naming a condition, and in a lot of cases the practical request is all anyone needs.
Disclosure is a separate decision with its own consequences, and it deserves thinking through in advance rather than in the middle of a difficult conversation. If you do decide to disclose, you choose who, how much, and in what words.
It is also worth knowing, before you go in, that workplaces and education providers in Australia are generally expected to make reasonable adjustments, and that expectation does not depend on you using the word disability about yourself. That knowledge changes the tone of the request. It becomes a normal conversation about how things get done. If you want to know exactly where you stand in your own circumstances, Job Access, your union, or your workplace HR policy are the places to check.
If the answer is no
Sometimes it will be, and it is worth deciding in advance what smaller version you would still accept. A no to two days at home might be a yes to one. A no to a quieter space might be a yes to headphones treated as normal.
It is also worth noticing what a no tells you about the environment, separately from what you do about it. Some workplaces, and some relationships, will not accommodate you, and asking harder is not the answer to that. It is information, and information is useful even when it is unwelcome.
What actually changes
The clients who make progress here do not become confident self-advocates in some general sense. They stop treating each request as a referendum on whether they are difficult, and start treating it as an ordinary conversation about how things get done.
That shift is a capacity thing rather than an insight thing. It comes from having done it a few times, in low-stakes situations first, with the wording worked out beforehand. Which is exactly what therapy is useful for: not only understanding why asking is hard, but practising it until it is possible.
I have put together a handout on this, with the six needs I see most often and examples for work and home, the four moves, and a page for drafting your actual request.
Download the handout
If you are late-diagnosed and working out what you need and how to ask for it, this is a lot of what I do. I work with adults across Australia by telehealth, and in person at Martinsville near Lake Macquarie.

