Safe Havens, Hard Lessons: Alexandra Hambro on Rowing, Riding, and Reclaiming Confidence
Introduction
Alexandra is a former rower, a former rowing coach, a current horse rider, and an equine therapist. She also lives with ADHD and Auditory Processing Disorder. Her story isn’t neat or polished—it’s human. And in telling it, she shows us what courage looks like when it’s done quietly, daily, and without certainty.
In this blog, we talk about how learning differences shaped her education, how rowing became both her safe space and her source of harm, and how she’s turned pain into purpose through her platform, We Row Like This.
“Terrified Every Day”
Alex doesn’t pretend to be fearless.
“I’m terrified every day. I mean, not terrified, but... it’s hard.”
Despite this, she continues to build a platform that uplifts others and challenges the systems that once tried to break her. This isn’t the kind of confidence people expect from someone doing advocacy work, but it’s the kind that matters most—the kind that comes from surviving and still showing up.
“You’d think it takes huge confidence to do what I’m doing, but I’m one of the least confident people I know.”
Auditory Processing Disorder: Misunderstood and Mislabelled
Alex’s auditory processing challenges were not well understood growing up.
“I had a lot of ear infections. I was partially deaf as a kid—and still am. I’ve got tinnitus, which means there’s constant buzzing in my ears. My brain’s always distracted.”
Because her needs weren’t recognised, she was repeatedly punished in school.
“I got a lot of negative attention. I was constantly being told I was stupid or that I was doing it on purpose.”
Eventually, her American mother took her to a specialist in Chicago, where her diagnosis was finally confirmed. Still, returning to England with that diagnosis didn’t help much.
“One headmistress literally asked if I had cancer. They didn’t know what auditory processing disorder was—and they couldn’t accommodate it.”
The Weight of Being Different
When you’re a neurodivergent child in a system that doesn’t understand you, the damage can be lifelong.
“That anxiety never goes away. It just piles up.”
Alex remembers hiding in cloakrooms at school, waiting for the day to end. She describes being terrified—not of anything specific, but of the general weight of never feeling safe.
“You’re supposed to feel safe at home and at school. I didn’t feel safe in either.”
But then, something changed.
Finding Sport—and Finding Herself
Moving to the U.S. opened up new opportunities. Sport was one of them.
“I tried everything—ice hockey, basketball… I felt like I could try.”
It was rowing that stuck.
“My mom took me to watch the Head of the Charles Regatta. I stood by Elliott Bridge and thought, I want to do that. I didn’t know why—I just did.”
Sport became her sanctuary. Unlike school, where she was made to feel incapable, sport let her fail safely.
“You can have the worst coach in the world, and still want to go back. That’s how I knew it was my safe space.”
Rowing with an Invisible Difference
Auditory processing issues make rowing—a sport where instruction is often shouted mid-session—particularly hard.
“When I’m in a boat, if someone yells at me, I’m not ignoring them. I literally can’t hear.”
From the outside, it looked like she was being insubordinate. But one coach figured it out.
“He had a background in special needs education. He realised I needed to be shown things visually and talked to before getting in the boat. Once I’m in the boat, I’m just pulling.”
Alex needed direct eye contact, clear instructions, and visual demonstrations. In short—she needed coaching, not correction.
Good Coaches Ask Questions
One of the most powerful moments in our conversation was when Alex described the impact of having a coach who let her ask “why.”
“Being in a safe space where you can ask why? That changes everything.”
She recalled one coach in particular who made her feel safe enough to explore, fail, and improve.
“You can’t row when you’re riddled with anxiety. You have to feel safe to relax—and you can’t relax if you think getting it wrong means getting in trouble.”
Losing—and Reclaiming—Her Safe Space
Not every coach was supportive.
“I had a coach who just... he made me hate rowing. He revved up my anxiety to the point of panic attacks.”
This was the deepest cut—when your safe space becomes unsafe.
“It took me about eight or nine years to come back.”
What brought her back was witnessing good coaching in action.
“I saw a female coach who made everyone want to row. Not because it was easy—but because they felt safe.”
The Birth of We Row Like This
That return to sport reignited something in Alex. And eventually, she launched We Row Like This, a platform that celebrates difference and inclusion in sport—not just for neurodivergent people, but for everyone.
“It’s not about being neurodivergent. It’s about recognising that everyone is different and everyone has value.”
Still, Alex is candid about how difficult it’s been to run the platform.
“I went at it 120%. Then I realised I had to back off or I’d burn out. So now I take it day by day.”
Final Thoughts
Alexandra Hambro is many things: an athlete, a coach, a survivor, and a changemaker.
Through tough experiences, she’s learned the power of self-advocacy. She knows what she needs, and she’s unafraid to voice it—even when it feels exposing.
“Even in business school, I had to get a letter explaining how I learn. Otherwise, I’d start at a disadvantage.”
For Alexandra, accommodations aren’t about special treatment. They’re about fairness—about levelling a playing field that was never level to begin with.
“It’s not a leg up. It’s just getting to the starting line.”
Her story is also proof that confidence isn’t a prerequisite for courage. Courage is found in showing up—again and again—and in showing others that they can too.
You can follow Alexandra’s platform at @werowlikethis.
Key Takeaways for Neurodivergent Individuals
You are not alone
→ Your struggles are real, but so is your potential.
Advocate for yourself
→ Whether it’s asking for visual instructions or a quiet space, your needs matter.
Find your safe space
→ Whether it’s rowing, riding, or writing—lean into what makes you feel whole.
Key Takeaways for Peers, Supporters, and Parents
Empathy over judgment
→ If someone reacts differently, ask yourself why before assuming the worst.
Celebrate diversity
→ Difference doesn’t mean deficit. Embrace and learn from each other’s ways of thinking.
Encourage questions
→ If someone asks “why,” they’re not challenging you—they’re trying to understand.
Key Takeaways for Coaches, Leaders, and Organisations
Safety is the foundation
→ No one performs well when they feel anxious or unsafe.
Be curious
→ The best coaches aren’t the loudest—they’re the ones who listen.
Good coaching is inclusive by nature
→ If you’re coaching to develop people, not just performances, you’re already on the right track.
Originally a recorded interview, this blog post was written by Caragh McMurtry. Subheadings were added by the Neurodiverse Sport team to support readability.
