Who chose the line?

The one that says you’re behind, too slow, not enough yet.

Because it wasn’t you.

Angela Marie D'Antonio, executive coach for neurodivergent founders and keynote speaker, smiling in an orange blazer and gold pants seated on a leopard-print sofa.

I've spent the last decade asking that question of myself and of every founder I coach. The first time it stopped me cold, though, was years before any of that at my own kitchen table.

We had my oldest daughter evaluated. The results came back: behind in math, behind in spelling, slow processing, below grade level. I did what you do. I pushed. She cried. I felt like a failure.

Then one thought stopped me cold. Behind compared to what?

A line drawn 40 years ago by people in a room who had never met her, who had no idea what she was good at, what she was curious about, what she could do that no one else in that room could do. They drew that line and called it a standard, and I had been pushing my child toward it like it was the truth. It wasn't.

She wasn't behind. The line was wrong.

I stopped measuring what she couldn't do and started seeing what she could. I got Barton-certified and taught her to read and spell myself. Years later, she stood on stage at the World Literacy Summit at Oxford University and spoke about dyslexia. She is now a youth ambassador for the US State Department, posted to Germany.

You are not broken. The ruler is.


I'm Angela Marie D'Antonio, an executive coach for neurodivergent founders and a keynote speaker for anyone burned out by inherited standards. The question that stopped me at my own kitchen table is the one I now bring to the rooms I work in. Who chose the line you are measuring yourself against, and why are you still chasing it?

I came to that question the long way. Modern dancer, cardiology research at Harvard, OB nurse at Duke, midwife in Ireland, an associate's degree in cheese (it's real, ask me in person), twelve years homeschooling, head of sales at a curriculum company, ESA and homeschool sales consultant. When my youngest was diagnosed with ADHD, I sat across from a clinician describing how I had operated my entire life. I was 47. The through-line: I followed what fascinated me, not what the timeline said I should be doing next.

That path has shown up in places I never expected. Forbes featured me. I've spoken at the World Literacy Summit at Oxford University, and I've sat on panels at Link Up Meet Up events in Sarajevo twice now (third trip in August). The part I'm most proud of, though, is not the stages. It is that I am still in the work. I tutor five students with dyslexia every single week using Barton structured literacy. I got Barton-certified to help my older daughter, and I never stopped.

Her younger sister, who has ADHD, started college coursework at fourteen and is heading to Kyrgyzstan this fall on a NSLI-Y scholarship to study Russian. (The two of them are turning into a small foreign service.) I'm not theorizing about how neurodivergent people work. I am one, and I'm raising two more.

I live in rural Eastern Oregon with my husband. Weekends are for watercolors, which I am not particularly good at but love anyway. Massive tea consumption is what fuels me. And I will spend a ridiculous amount of money for access to the right cheese (I am a professional, after all).

If you would like to keep reading what I am working on before it shows up anywhere else, the Insider List is where I send the work first. The book in progress lives there. So do the talks I am building.

If you are a neurodivergent founder building something that fits how you work, I take on a small number of clients each month: Apply for coaching →

Planning an event? Book Angela to speak →

Angela Marie D'Antonio, executive coach for neurodivergent founders and Associate of Cheese, smiling in a "Cheese Is My Love Language" tee while holding a wedge of blue cheese and round of brie.
Angela Marie D'Antonio, executive coach for neurodivergent founders and weekend watercolorist, smiling at her painting table with brushes, paints, and her hyperrealistic nature paintings.