Tully Kearney – Gold Medallist, World Record Holder, Autistic Athlete
Introduction
Tully Kearney MBE is a multi-medallist, world record holding Paralympic swimmer, and a fierce advocate for change. Alongside her physical disabilities, Tully is also autistic – a fact she kept hidden from her sport for over a decade out of fear of being misunderstood or excluded.
Her story shines a light on some of the most pressing issues in elite sport: the stigma surrounding neurodivergence, the pressure to mask in order to fit in, and the emotional toll of carrying that hidden weight. For years, Tully balanced world-class performance with the silent strain of concealing who she truly was.
And yet, her journey also offers real hope. By speaking openly about her autism, Tully shows how honesty can break down barriers and how even small changes in culture and environment can make a profound difference. Her message is clear: when sport embraces difference with understanding and flexibility, neurodivergent athletes are not only able to survive—but to thrive, inspire, and lead the way forward.
“I didn’t want to be treated differently, but I needed to be understood.”
Tully was diagnosed with Asperger’s (a now-outdated term for a form of autism) at age nine. But in sport – even Paralympic sport – the social stigma of autism loomed large. For years, she kept her diagnosis secret from coaches, teammates, and governing bodies.
“I think part of that is the lack of understanding and knowledge. I saw how other autistic athletes were treated… they were basically told to grow up and get on with it.”
This fear wasn’t unfounded. Tully witnessed how athletes with intellectual impairments – some also autistic – were excluded from training camps and competitions, judged as “difficult,” “hard work,” or “not worth the investment.” That treatment kept her quiet.
But even silence came at a cost.
“When you’re hiding something that’s in your medical notes, it just makes that anxiety so much worse. If someone finds out in that way, it’s not going to be good.”
Autism, Not Classification
It’s important to clarify: Tully’s autism has no bearing on her classification as a Paralympic swimmer. She competes in the S5, SB4, and SM5 categories for athletes with physical disabilities. In her case, those are neurological and muscular conditions unrelated to her autism.
Still, the overlap of disability and neurodivergence made her feel even more misunderstood.
“Because I had a physical disability, I think I assumed my difficulties with communication and relationships were all down to that. I didn’t know anyone like me.”
It’s a common experience for autistic women and girls – their differences are overlooked, misattributed, or misunderstood. And when autism is recognised, it’s often confused with intellectual disability or behavioural issues, particularly in sport.
Social Exhaustion, Masking, and Misinterpretation
Like many autistic people, Tully found social interactions draining, particularly in team settings or large groups. But masking – the act of consciously hiding autistic traits – took its toll.
“Some days I just couldn’t cope with social interaction. I’d sit outside the gym or in the corner, and it looked really antisocial… but I just didn’t have the energy.”
She recounts one painful memory of being pressured to attend a team social she didn’t feel safe at. When she refused, no one supported her. She sat outside, alone in the rain, anxious and crying for hours. No one checked on her.
“That was kind of a turning point. I thought, I can’t keep doing this.”
And yet, this misunderstanding extended beyond social scenarios. She was often seen as rude, moody, or difficult.
“They didn’t know I was autistic, so I think people just thought I was rude. That really didn’t help.”
“Not knowing what to expect is my biggest trigger.”
Autism is a spectrum, and Tully’s anxiety is shaped largely by uncertainty, confrontation, and unspoken social rules.
“I like things to be black and white. I like to know what’s expected, exactly what’s going to happen.”
One particularly problematic policy was “RAW” – a behavioural values framework (Responsibility, Accountability, etc.) built into her sport’s selection criteria. But there was no clear definition or documentation.
“How do I know if I’m doing it right? I kept thinking, have I done something wrong?”
This vagueness, while manageable for some, was a constant stressor for Tully.
“Just tell me exactly what you want from me, and I will do it. But I need clarity.”
Neurodivergent Strengths
So what does Tully’s autism give her as an athlete?
“Attention to detail. I watch everything. I problem-solve. I’m resourceful. If something doesn’t work, I find a way to fix it.”
Her determination is another trait she links to autism:
“Once I set a goal, I do everything in my power to reach it. I’m stubborn. I don’t slack. My coach often has to tell me to rest.”
She’s also deeply loyal, preferring a small circle of close friendships. And she’s endlessly compassionate:
“People say autistic people don’t care about others – that’s such a myth. I’m always thinking about how I can make things better for other people.”
That’s what motivates her charity work, her advocacy, and the decision to come forward in the first place.
Change, Honesty, and a New Chapter
After 10 years of hiding her autism, Tully made the decision to tell her coach and a small number of staff. The result?
“We planned it out together – what to say, how to explain how it impacts me, what I struggle with, and what would help me. And it came across really well.”
In response, some staff took autism education training. Her coach – who’d worked with her for years – admitted he had suspected it, but hadn’t put it together.
“He knew what I needed… but now he understood why.”
Tully has since relocated to Loughborough, where she says the environment is much more accepting.
“No one cares that I’m different. That’s been huge for me.”
But she’s quick to clarify that even now, she’s still unlearning old patterns.
“People think you can just ‘stop masking’ overnight. But after a decade? It doesn’t work like that. It’s a slow process.”
Final Thoughts
Tully’s bravery in sharing her story is paving the way for others. And it’s especially meaningful that she’s doing so at the top of her sport – as a gold medallist, a world record holder, and a change-maker.
She may have been forced to hide her neurodivergence for ten years, but she’s making up for lost time by being open, honest, and relentlessly hopeful.
“If there’s anything I can do to make someone else’s life easier, I’ll do it – even if it means struggling myself for a while. That’s just who I am.”
We’re so grateful for who Tully is – and proud to share her story.
Follow Tully on Instagram @tully_kearney
Key Takeaways for Neurodivergent Individuals
You’re not alone
→ Hiding your neurodivergence might feel like protection, but it can also be exhausting. When it’s safe and on your terms, being open can lead to better understanding and support.
You are the expert on you
→ You have every right to ask for what you need to thrive. Self-advocacy is a skill – and it’s okay to need support learning how to do it.
You don’t need to justify your boundaries
→ Needing time alone, structure, or clarity doesn’t make you antisocial. It makes you self-aware.
Key Takeaways for Peers, Supporters, and Parents
Listen without judgment
→ If someone shares their diagnosis, it’s a sign they trust you. Support them by taking it seriously and asking how you can help.
Inclusion isn’t about fixing someone
→ Respect personal preferences around communication, socialising, and recovery: This is about meeting them where they’re at
Call out harmful behaviour
→ If you see someone being isolated, misunderstood, or mistreated, speak up. Culture change starts with individual accountability.
Key Takeaways for Coaches, Leaders, and Organisations
Understand difference before enforcing sameness
→ Standardised rules and norms (like “RAW” values) can unintentionally exclude neurodivergent athletes. Make expectations explicit and flexible.
Ask, don’t assume
→ No amount of online training will replace a conversation. Learn what each athlete needs by talking to them directly.
Recognise unseen resilience
→ Tully won medals while masking for years. Imagine what athletes could do if they didn’t have to hide who they are.
Originally a recorded interview, this blog post was written by Caragh McMurtry. Subheadings were added by the Neurodiverse Sport team to support readability.
