Marketing, Dopamine and My Neurodivergent Nervous System: How I’m Choosing to Use Social Media 

When “get on socials” lands as a body‑no

When people told me I “had” to be on social media to promote Youology, I noticed:

• A squeeze in my chest.

• A little spike of shame – “I should be able to do this.”

• A familiar sense of future‑me scrolling, refreshing, and feeling not‑enough.

That reaction wasn’t about being unwilling to work hard. It was my nervous system remembering how:

• Social media has, at times, become a place where I chase micro‑hits of validation.

• I’ve lost hours to scrolling when I was tired, lonely or overwhelmed.

• I’ve compared myself to other practitioners and come away feeling smaller.

Platforms like Instagram, Facebook, TikTok and even LinkedIn are deliberately designed around variable reward: unpredictable likes, comments and notifications that trigger little dopamine bursts in the brain. For many neurodivergent people – especially those with ADHD or AuDHD traits – that unpredictability can be especially sticky, because dopamine pathways are already involved in attention, motivation and reward.

So when my body flinched at “get on socials,” it wasn’t just resistance. It was information.

Why social media is both medicine and poison for neurodivergent nervous systems

I want to be clear: I’m not anti‑social‑media. For many neurodivergent people, it has been a lifeline.

Online spaces have helped people:

• Find language for their experience (“Oh, that’s what masking is.”).

• Realise they’re not alone in their burnout, sensory needs, or “too muchness.”

• Connect with communities that are more affirming than their offline environments.

At the same time, the way these platforms are designed can be particularly intense for neurodivergent nervous systems:

• Dopamine loops. The constant possibility of a new notification can reinforce compulsive checking, especially in ADHD, where baseline dopamine regulation is different.

• Sensory overload. Fast, bright, noisy feeds can ramp up overwhelm and make regulation harder.

• Comparison and identity pressure. For autistic and other neurodivergent people, social media can shape identity in powerful ways – sometimes supportive, sometimes distortion and performative pressure.

• Blurred boundaries. It’s easy for work, rest, social life and self‑worth to all get tangled up in the same endless scroll.

So when you add “new business owner” into that mix – with its own stress, uncertainty and need for visibility – it makes sense that social media can feel both deeply attractive and risky.

The specific fear I have as a new ND business owner

The conflict in me looks something like this:

• I want people who need neuroaffirming, trauma‑informed therapy to know Youology exists.

• I don’t want my nervous system to start living inside an app, waiting to see if my last post “performed.”

Some of my fears are:

• Hooking my sense of worth to metrics. When I’m tired or unsure, it’s very easy for my brain to slide into “more likes = I’m doing okay, fewer likes = I’m failing.”

• Letting algorithms shape my voice. If I’m not careful, I could start writing what I think will get engagement, rather than what feels honest and clinically grounded.

• Over‑functioning through posting. When things feel uncertain, posting more and more can become a way to try to control outcomes, instead of listening to my limits.

• Losing time and energy I don’t actually have. As a neurodivergent human, my bandwidth for admin, executive function and emotional labour is not infinite. Every hour I spend wrestling with content calendars is an hour I don’t spend resting, being with clients, or having a life.

None of this means social media is “bad” or that neurodivergent people shouldn’t use it. It just means the costs and benefits are different, and that my nervous system deserves to be part of the conversation.

What a healthier relationship with social media might look like (for me)

I don’t have a perfect system, but here are some principles I’m experimenting with as I grow Youology.

They’re not prescriptions – more like ideas you can adapt if they resonate.

1. Social media as a signpost, not my “home”

I want my website and long‑form writing (like this) to be the “home base” of my work – where people can take their time, read at their own pace, and not be pushed by an algorithm.

Social media can then be:

• A signpost that points to that home base.

• A way to share short reflections or updates.

• A gentle way for colleagues and referrers to get a feel for my approach.

This helps me remember that my business doesn’t live or die by any one post.

2. Time containers instead of constant checking

Rather than treating social media like a background app that’s always open, I’m trying to use containers:

• Small, scheduled windows (for example, 1–2 times a week) where I log in, post, and respond to comments or messages.

• Then I log out and deliberately close the tab/app.

Research suggests that heavy, unstructured social media use is more strongly linked to negative outcomes (like anxiety and low mood) than more intentional, time‑bound use. For neurodivergent brains that struggle with stopping, boundaries on when we engage can matter more than willpower in the moment.

3. Process goals, not performance goals

Instead of setting goals like “grow my followers to X” or “get Y likes per post,” I’m more interested in:

• “Can I show up in a way that feels honest and sustainable this week?”

• “Can I share one thing that might reduce someone’s shame or help them feel less alone?”

This shifts the focus from outcomes (which I can’t fully control) to values‑aligned processes (which I can). It also reduces the temptation to chase whatever content gets the most engagement, regardless of whether it feels good or clinically sound.

4. Body‑based check‑ins as data

I’m trying to treat my own body as a feedback tool.

Questions I ask myself:

• How do I feel during and after being on a platform?

• Do I feel grounded, connected, maybe gently energised? Or buzzy, numb, shamey, scattered?

• Do I log off feeling “enough,” or like I need to do more / be more?

If my system feels spun‑out, that’s my cue to step away, not to push through. For neurodivergent people, those subtle shifts can be early warning signs that we’re tipping into overload or dysregulation.

5. Keeping validation anchored elsewhere

Social media metrics are allowed to feel nice. It’s human to enjoy when something you’ve shared resonates.

But I’m trying not to let analytics become the main mirror I look into.

Instead, I’m practising anchoring validation in:

• The depth and honesty of the work I do with clients.

• The moments people say “I felt really seen when you said that,” whether in session or in response to a piece of writing.

• Supervision, peer relationships, and my own values, not just numbers on a screen.

For neurodivergent people who’ve spent a lifetime being graded, assessed and measured, it can be surprisingly radical to let go of yet another scorecard.

What this might mean if you’re neurodivergent and on socials too

You might not be a therapist, or a business owner. You might just be a neurodivergent human trying to stay connected without frying your own circuitry.

Some gentle questions you might play with:

• What happens in your body when you’re scrolling?

• What are you hoping to get when you open the app (connection, information, distraction, validation)? Does it usually give you that – or something else entirely?

• Are there one or two accounts that genuinely feel regulating or validating, and others that mostly leave you tense or depleted?

• What would “enough” look like for you, in terms of time spent there?

You don’t have to quit everything to have a healthier relationship with it. Sometimes small shifts – muting certain accounts, using time limits, or moving long conversations into more contained spaces – can make a noticeable difference.

How I’m choosing to show up (for now)

Right now, my working plan looks like this:

• Use my website and blog as the main place I share my approach in depth.

• Use LinkedIn and perhaps one other platform in a low‑intensity way – occasional, thoughtful posts rather than daily content.

• Let people who find value in this work come closer in their own time, rather than chasing visibility at the expense of my own capacity.

• Keep listening to my body. If growing Youology via social media starts to feel like it’s costing more than it gives, that’s a signal to adjust.

This will probably evolve. Like most things in neurodivergent life, it’s an experiment.

If this resonates

If you’re a neurodivergent practitioner wrestling with similar questions, or a “too much” human trying to live with social media without letting it run your life, you’re not alone.

And if you’ve found your way here because you were wondering whether a therapist who thinks about nervous systems, dopamine, shame and algorithms might also think carefully about you – you’re very welcome to explore more about my approach, or reach out if and when it feels right.

No pressure. Curiosity is enough.

Sources & further reading (if your brain wants more)

• The interplay of ADHD, social media usage, and dopamine receptors in adolescents: A literature review. World Journal of Advanced Research and Reviews, 2024, 23(2), 2698–2703. https://doi.org/10.30574/wjarr.2024.23.2.2625
  – For brains that like zooming out and seeing how ADHD, dopamine and social media fit together across multiple studies.​

• Social media algorithms and teen addiction: Neurophysiological impact and ethical considerations. Cureus, 2025, 17(1), e77145. https://doi.org/10.7759/cureus.77145
  – For folks curious about how algorithms are designed to grab teen attention, not just “bad habits” or “lack of willpower.”​

• Why teens with ADHD are so vulnerable to the perils of social media. Nature, 2026. https://doi.org/10.1038/d41586-026-00096-9
  – For parents, carers and professionals wanting a high‑level, readable overview from a mainstream science outlet.​

• Dashnaw, D. (2025). The digital mirage: How social media distorts neurodivergence. Retrieved from https://danieldashnawcouplestherapy.com/blog/how-social-media-distorts-neurodivergence
  – For neurodivergent adults and partners who want a thoughtful, therapist‑written take on how online narratives can warp self‑image.​

• Skafle, I., Gabarron, E., & Nordahl‑Hansen, A. (2024). Social media shaping autism perception and identity. Autism, 28(10), 2489–2502. https://doi.org/10.1177/13623613241230454
  – For autistic folks (and those who love them) interested in how online spaces influence autistic identity, community, and stigma.​

• Doyle, N. (2021, August 3). Social media, dopamine and neurodiversity. Forbes. Retrieved from https://www.forbes.com/sites/drnancydoyle/2021/08/03/social-media-dopamine-and-neurodiversity/
  – A more accessible, neurodiversity‑affirming article for people who like real‑world examples more than dense research papers.​

• Bonsaksen, T., & Kleppang, A. L. (2025). Social media and mental health: Lessons learned from the Psychology Research and Behavior Management article collection. Psychology Research and Behavior Management, 18, 2039–2052. https://doi.org/10.2147/PRBM.S549588
  – For practitioners and nerdy brains who want a bigger “state of the field” look at what we actually know (and don’t know yet) about social media and mental health.