What’s the perfect trip to Venice?

Think about someone you work with. What do you actually know about them? Maybe you’ve worked with me. What do you know about me?

People are a bit like exploring Venice: a complex maze where the more you discover, the more you uncover. I visited Venice last year for the fifth time, and yet that experience felt completely different from the previous four.

We all present certain parts of ourselves. You probably know that my background is in rugby league and teaching. You might also know I spent seven years working in women’s football and what I do now. You may even know that I’m autistic. These are things I choose to share.

But there’s always more beneath the surface.

You might not know that I speak some French and have even taught it. I have a deep interest in East Germany and its history. I’ll watch just about any travel documentary.

I’m meticulous about my lawn, especially making sure it has perfect stripes. And while I may appear confident, I often struggle with anxiety at times it can be paralysing and make every day functioning difficult.

There are also less visible challenges. In group settings, I can experience significant autistic burnout. I put on what I think of as “the show” in workshops, meetings, and conferences, engaging fully and giving energy outwardly. But by the evening, I’m often completely exhausted, drained by the effort it’s taken. And truthfully, given the choice, I’d often be happiest living a quieter life with just my family.

When I shared my diagnosis publicly, a colleague once asked me at an ECB event: “What advice would you give to people working with neurodiverse colleagues?” I paused and initially said that it’s important to really get to know individuals within what they’re willing to share understanding their motivations, fears, and what helps them thrive.

But the more I’ve reflected on it, the more I think I got that answer slightly wrong.

Because that’s not just what we should do for neurodiverse colleagues, it’s what we should do for everyone.
In our Talent Pathway team, we explored this idea through an exercise inspired by my time with the Lionesses pathway, and it was incredibly powerful. It reinforced something I’ve come to believe strongly over time. As Rasmus Ankersen puts it: “The most important thing someone is telling you is what they are not telling you.”

Everyone is unique. Policies, systems, and ways of working affect people differently. Whether someone is neurodiverse, a parent, a carer, dealing with anxiety, disability, menopause, or any number of life experiences these factors shape how they show up and what they need. To genuinely get the best from people, we have to move beyond one-size-fits-all approaches and towards principles built on understanding and connection.

So, what’s the perfect trip to Venice? Maybe you just need to get to know it better.