Today we’d like to introduce you to Rachel Jackson.
Hi Rachel, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today?
Designing With Purpose
My Journey Into Wellness-Centered, ADHD-Friendly Interior Design
At the risk of sounding dramatic, I used to wonder if interior design could really make a difference in the world.
Sure, I loved it, and it came quite naturally which I was thankful for. But in the shadow of professions like medicine, education, and human rights work, selecting sofas, drapes and wood stains felt…superficial, if I’m being honest. Impactful for the clients, yes. But broadly meaningful? Not exactly.
Everything shifted during a business retreat in San Miguel, Mexico, alongside a talented group of friends & entrepreneurs across various industries. We’ve known each other for years, and are the kind of friends who share tips for everything, not just business. Recipes, skincare, family dynamics, and lately lots of chatter around sleep, supplements & all things perimenopause. We’re connected by a drive to build and create things, so when we bring new ideas to the group, which is pretty often, it’s never just shop talk – it’s soul talk. We listen, we challenge, we encourage each other’s visions.
During my retreat brainstorming session, I shared a question around a project I’d quietly been developing: downloadable design guides from my Home Design Lab. These guides arose from frustration – I saw potential clients who needed and wanted input, but my design fees didn’t fit into their already maxed-out budgets. I didn’t want to leave them empty-handed, so I began writing practical, realistic design guidance, the kind missing from those “before and after” HGTV episodes filled with countless hidden steps. My goal was to give people a clear roadmap – something they could bring into stores and use to confidently make design decisions, all for the cost of somewhere between 15 to 60 minutes of traditional design fees.
“What interior design tips are actually helpful to you?” was my question to the group.
One friend quickly responded with something that wasn’t a direct answer to my prompt, and also something I’ll never forget: “Rachel, don’t underestimate the impact of what you do – I mean we argue less now because of you”.
Not expecting that last part, I remember being confused. “What?!”
She explained that after my last round of work in their home – particularly her husband’s office – they had less arguments. He was more organized. Their space worked better. There was less clutter. And then she added, “You know how helpful that all was for his ADHD?”
Something clicked. I somewhat hesitantly blurted out, “Well… I have ADHD too. That’s probably why it worked. I just designed it the way I’d need it to work for me.”
The room lit up. Another friend asked, “Wait – you have ADHD?” I laughed and confessed something I’d never admitted to anyone, “Girl, if you could see the doom pile of laundry that rotates between my bed and the floor every day…”
(And in my head: the inside of my car… and my bathroom.)
If only they knew how things look between those interior photo shoots! This definitely wasn’t what they were expecting from the friend who makes houses pretty.
That moment cracked open something big. We started talking about ADHD, autism, the shame so many of us carry, and the little ways we mask the chaos. Another friend looked at me and said, “This is the take. This is the angle people need.”
I got chills. I felt she was right.
That pivotal moment initiated my shift to designing for wellness, a niche I quickly discovered was largely underserved. Back home I dove into research about interior design for neurodiverse clients specifically. There was a bit of insight from the world of professional organizers, but almost nothing on the architecture & design side, especially in the U.S. So I started writing the playbook I couldn’t find, with inspiration from a few firms I found who were doing the same.
Interestingly, the deeper I explored, the clearer it became that sensory-friendly elements had been guiding my work all along. I’ve always gravitated toward specific lighting, textures, and colors, creating intuitive layouts – not just attractive, but comforting. Even as a teenager, I’d rearrange my room into the wee hours, chasing the most comfortable version possible. I thought it was just this quirky thing I did; turns out, I was solving for sensory comfort (and let’s be honest, probably satisfying some ADHD-driven novelty).
I remember excitedly popping into our group chat one day, astonished and needing to tell someone, after I’d found a lighting best practices guide from GA Architects, a firm that specializes in autism-friendly design. Every single tip – dimmable, warm lighting, concealed light sources, no bare or flickering fluorescent bulbs – matched what I had already written in my own lighting guide. I was like “Y’all… I really have been designing in a sensory-friendly way this whole time. I can do this. This is an actual thing!”
Looking back, I think it’s also why I’ve always spent a lot of time in the programming phase with clients. Programming is the part of the design process where we gather detailed info about how people actually live, what their days look like, what sensory triggers they face, where bottlenecks tend to happen. That’s the foundation for creating something truly supportive. Rushing into shopping and styling might sound fun, but if it’s not built on what the client’s body and brain need from the space? It’s not going to hold up.
Though our home had long been grounded in sensory-friendly design due to our family’s “neuro-festive” blend of ADHD, auditory processing disorder, and dyslexia, it was my son’s 2022 diagnosis of PANDAS, a little-known autoimmune condition triggered by strep infections, that showed me how impactful designing for sensory comfort is. Our home, and his eventual college apartment, evolved into a sort of lab: if a strategy or material helped us, I knew others could benefit too.
I prioritized materials that blended sensory ease with practicality, focusing less on how spaces photographed and more on how they felt to live in: the ease, rhythm, and emotional regulation they provided. While I specialize in working with neurodiverse families, I’ve found this kind of design supports just about anyone navigating a full or complex life. Whether it’s parents with overstimulated little ones, adults living with anxiety or chronic illness, or simply folks who are tired of homes that feel more disconnected & draining than restorative. This isn’t just design for a diagnosis. It’s design that supports function, comfort, and well-being for all kinds of brains and bodies.
Recently, recognizing the broader need for this knowledge, I certified my course through the International Design Continuing Education Council (IDCEC). This allows me to share these insights with other interior designers as I aim to exponentially expand the reach and impact of sensory-friendly, wellness-informed design.
Today, I provide workshops online to communities, parent groups, schools, occupational therapy practices, and fellow designers. I work one-on-one with individuals & families to create homes that calm chaos, soothe the senses, and make day-to-day life a little easier. It’s not “just” interior design – it’s therapeutic, impactful, problem-solving design at a nervous-system level.
Designing for sensory comfort isn’t simply good design; it’s compassionate, essential, and universally beneficial. When we design thoughtfully for those with heightened sensitivities, we genuinely improve spaces for everyone. When We Design For Everyone, Everyone Wins.
I didn’t build this alone. This journey only took shape because of the insightful friends & sisters who helped me explore it, question it, and give it a name. That kind of friendship – the kind that sees you, challenges you, and lifts your vision higher – is rare. It’s powerful. It’s everything.
And at home, I’m just as lucky. Our little family runs on family coffee chats, “pebbling” each other with memes, food, quality time, and a whole lot of chill vibes. I couldn’t ask for a better team to do life with.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Now, let’s be real though – this whole idea, even just being a business owner in general, isn’t a Pinterest-perfect situation. It comes with challenges, and lots of self-questioning. There were moments I questioned whether this niche made any sense. Was I really pouring time into something meaningful, or just chasing another shiny ADHD idea? Because as you may know, those of us with ADHD are great at falling in love with new ideas…and just as good at pivoting when the next one shows up.
Also, I started digging into the neuroinclusive design research and hit another wall: there wasn’t much info. A few inspiring international firms doing solid work for autism-friendly spaces, some crossover from the professional organizing world, and a couple of designers just starting to talk about it on design convention panel stages, but no clear roadmap. No “Sensory-Friendly Design 101.” Just a lot of late nights, deep dives, and connecting dots from all over. Which, honestly, is an ADHD superpower – we’re relentless when something lights us up.
Still, building a new niche with no precedent? It’s exciting – and a little unnerving. I’ve had to trust my gut, keep tuning into clients, and remind myself: just because it doesn’t fully exist yet doesn’t mean it shouldn’t.
What keeps me going, even on the days when imposter syndrome tries to sneak in, is the response I get when I share what I’m doing. Industry leaders like Patti Carpenter an award-winning creative director and Global Trend Ambassador for Maison et Objet shook my hand while thanking me “for doing this work” – I was speechless.. At SXSW EDU, multiple educators and administrators told me, “This is exactly what our families need.” So I really think this is the start of something, it’s a movement in the making. We just have to effectively communicate it.
Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your business?
What sets me apart? I think it’s that I don’t just design homes that look good – I design homes that function well and feel good to live in, especially for people whose nervous systems are working overtime.
My brand is built around the belief that beauty and function shouldn’t be at odds. You can have a gorgeous space that also supports focus, calm, and regulation – and for neurodiverse families, that kind of design isn’t a luxury, it’s essential. That’s why I focus on sensory-friendly, wellness-informed interiors that meet real needs, not just Pinterest boards.
I’m especially proud of the education piece of my brand. I created The Home Design Lab, an education platform with downloadable design guides for folks who want to access thoughtful, guided support but may not have the budget to hire a design firm. And I recently certified my “Intro To Interior Design For Neurodiverse Homes” course with IDCEC (International Design Continuing Education Council) so I can share this approach with fellow designers and they can satisfy continuing ed requirements – because the more of us who know how to design for neurodiverse and sensory-sensitive clients, the more lives we can make easier.
Whether I’m teaching a workshop, collaborating with an OT, or redesigning a client’s family room to be easier to manage and more soothing to be in, I want people to know I’m here to help make their homes work for them, not against them.
In short: I help people create beautiful, livable spaces that support the way they actually function. Because when we design for everyone, everyone wins.
What do you like and dislike about the city?
Honestly, it’s the mix of things that I love about Austin. I love how you can find amazing food at just about every price point – whether it’s a quick taco truck or a beautiful chef-owned spot with seasonal menus. There’s also this laid-back, creative vibe that still lingers from the “Old Austin” I grew up with, but we’re becoming a bit more polished and adding some elevated spaces which is a nice option to have when you’re in the mood for it. And even though the city’s grown a ton, it still feels small in a lot of ways. There’s something about knowing you’ll probably bump into someone you know at HEB, Barton Springs or any given neighborhood coffee shop that makes it still feel like this little community.
What do I like least? Not to sound cliche, but the heat. I’ve lived here long enough to be used to it, but oof. That said, our winters are so mild that I forgive it a little every January. The other thing that frustrates me is how we’ve historically resisted growth in a way that’s hurt our infrastructure. That “keep it small” mindset has made it really hard to build the kind of roads and public transportation a growing city actually needs – just look at the Y in Oak Hill. It’s finally being addressed now, but I remember them talking about fixing it when I was in high school back in the ‘90s. That’s nearly 30 years of people sitting in backed-up traffic unnecessarily. It’s a perfect example of how our resistance to growth comes at a cost.
Pricing:
- 30 minute Online Design Chats: $75
- 60 minute Online Design Chats: $150
- Hourly Consulting: $150/hr
- Projects/Packages: Custom pricing depending on scope
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.racheljacksondesign.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/racheljacksondesign/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rjdesignatx
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/rachel-jackson-design/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@racheljacksondesign
- Other: https://www.eventbrite.com/o/home-design-lab-by-rachel-jackson-design-93549020103
Image Credits
Kaity Cox – IG @kaityphoto
