KPMG's Access and Inclusion Plan

As a Partner with dyslexia, I am a strong advocate for speaking up about disability. But it wasn't always like that. In fact, I was only diagnosed with dyslexia when I was 36 years old.

I remember when a family member was going through their diagnosis, I thought, 'Hang on, I have those things too!'' It was like a door opened and the puzzle pieces fell into place.

Growing up in the Netherlands, I struggled at school not knowing much about learning disabilities. While I excelled in maths and science, I struggled with language subjects, which delayed when I could start university. I studied computer science at university. Although I didn't have as much trouble reading code, I still struggled in text-based assignments. Where most people in the Netherlands begin working at 21, I began at 26. In the Netherlands, the attitude to misfortune is just deal with it and move on. But you can't help thinking, 'It must be me; I must be dumb.'

A decade after I was diagnosed, I finally felt comfortable being open about my dyslexia. I even have a standard opening at client meetings. I'll say, 'You might have noticed I'm a non-native speaker, hence the funny accent. But on top of that, I have dyslexia. So, if something funny appears on this whiteboard, I give you permission to chuckle, but please let me know because I will not be aware that I've written something wrong.'

After 10 years of symptoms, I was diagnosed with endometriosis at the end of 2021. Suffering with really bad pain inhibited my ability to interact with people. You ask yourself, 'Am I just really weak and sensitive or is there something really wrong?'

Having my diagnosis was huge as it meant I could kickstart my journey and acknowledge. I suddenly had a real, recognised medical issue, as opposed to telling work I had an issue but didn't know how to explain it.

On my second day at KPMG I spoke with my manager, and she wanted to figure out how to make it work. She had training to have the right conversations with people who have disabilities and provide consistent support.

Our flexible work policy has been helpful as it means I can still work, contribute and succeed. My brain and faculties work well but sometimes my body doesn't cooperate as I have a chronic illness, so sometimes I need to take time out.

Acknowledging my chronic illness and being supported means I can have a career and am not limited by something out of my control.

Statistically, it's more likely you'll encounter someone with a disability when you walk through the door. For me, it has helped, realising lots of people in the firm have a chronic illness or a hidden disability.

Neurodivergent describes the way the brain acts and thinks for some people - instead of words like 'different' or 'abnormal'. I love this term as there really is no agreed definition of how a 'normal' brain works.

ADHD is one of many diagnoses under the neurodivergent umbrella which affects 1 in 20 or 1.2 million individuals in Australia. Most of whom live undiagnosed … like I was - until recently.

Through a lengthy process with my GP, psychologist and psychiatrist, I now understand I have my own diagnosis for ADHD (combined - inattentive and hyperactive), which has been with me for my whole life.

ADHD shows up in many ways and challenges your attention (or lack of), hyperactiveness and impulsiveness, your ability to regulate your emotions and your 'executive function'.

I am impacted by all of these at varying levels. I have learned by mimicking the habits of successful people or just working really hard and for longer hours than most (to do things that shouldn't take that long). I connect and build relationships seemingly easy, even though I am anxious inside and later overthink every interaction. I have learned to ask for help - and am still on a learning curve to understand and rethink how I think.

I am privileged to have been diagnosed while working at KPMG. The support, tools, communities, openness from many people to talk about it and share their own journeys, and the space, trust, and guidance to design a workstyle that works for me has been - literally - life-changing.

In early 1997, my parents were relishing having a six-year-old starting school, with another child (me!) on the way. But an unexpected complication necessitated an emergency caesarean well before my expected due date. Concerns grew over my developmental reliance on my left side and my comparatively immobile right arm and leg, eventually culminating in a diagnosis of hemiplegia - thus beginning my long journey at the Royal Children's Hospital.

My formative years revolved around early interventions, medical hardware, and a unspoken resolve to never hold me back from anything. I was not always the most enthusiastic patient, especially when it came to wearing prosthetics to school, mostly because I just wanted to be like everyone else. With that came a desire to play in all the same school and club sporting competitions, but by 16 the added strength, speed and size of others made it difficult, especially in contact sports.

In 2006, we moved to Switzerland which led to my first snow experience, through an adaptive Snowsports non-profit. Upon return, the ski bug continue to grow, and I competed in underage pathways, joining the Australian Para-Alpine ski team in 2014.

I completed university and competed at continental and world cup races, achieving fourth place in the male standing category and earning selection for two winter Paralympics in 2018 and 2022 - moments I am incredibly proud of. However, a week before Beijing 2022, a training accident left me with a shattered collarbone and a nasty concussion, forcing me to shift my focus.

This year I joined the 2024 KPMG graduate program, and the welcoming and inclusive environment continues to surprise and impress. Effort is made to ensure I am not disadvantaged by my slower handwriting speed, and my colleagues have always been very complimentary of my five-finger typist technique.