“A Double-Edged Sword”: What Practitioners Really Think About VR for ADHD

What if the hardest social moments could be practiced somewhere safe first?

You're at a party. Someone is talking to you, but there are three conversations nearby, music playing, and people moving through the room. You want to focus on the person in front of you, but your brain is trying to process everything at once. You miss a social cue. You interrupt without meaning to. Later, you replay the moment and wish you could have practiced it first.

For many people with ADHD, social situations feel exactly like this. Not because they don't care, but because their brains are managing more input than they can filter in real time. Now imagine stepping into a virtual version of that party: a space where you can rehearse conversations, practice reading cues, and manage the overwhelm, all without real-world consequences.

That's the promise of Social Virtual Reality. Platforms like VRChat, Horizon Worlds, and Rec Room let people interact in shared virtual spaces using avatars, voice, and movement. But what do the practitioners think? The therapists, clinicians, and clinical professors who work with people with ADHD every day, do they see Social VR as a genuine opportunity, or just another overhyped technology? We spoke with six of them to find out. What they told us was nuanced, honest, and surprisingly hopeful, but with one important caveat. It's a double-edged sword.

What We Did

We interviewed six practitioners, including therapists, clinicians, and clinical professors, who work with people with ADHD and are familiar with VR technology. Interviews were conducted over Zoom, each lasting about 50 minutes. We wanted to hear from the people who see the realities of ADHD up close every day: where do they see potential in Social VR, and where do they see risk? We presented this work at ASSETS 2025, an international conference focused on accessibility and technology for people with disabilities.

Why Practitioners See Promise in Social VR

The practitioners we spoke with saw real promise in Social VR, not as a replacement for therapy, but as a tool that could extend it in ways traditional methods cannot. The idea they were most excited about was creating a safe space to practice. For many people with ADHD, social anxiety is a constant companion. The fear of saying the wrong thing, interrupting someone, or misreading a situation can turn everyday interactions into a source of stress. Social VR offers a low-pressure environment where users can try, fail, and try again without consequences. As one practitioner put it, “Social anxiety is perhaps one of the core problems with this population. So having a space to practice… is huge.”

Practitioners also saw potential for training impulse control. In everyday life, moments that require you to pause and think before reacting happen fast and rarely come with a second chance. In VR, those moments can be simulated and repeated. Users can receive immediate feedback and build habits over time. And because VR is immersive by nature, combining visual, audio, and interactive elements, it can sustain attention in ways that traditional formats like worksheets or reading often cannot.

A low-pressure space to practice what feels hardest: starting the conversation, reading the room, and trying again.

Why It’s a Double-Edged Sword

For all its promise, practitioners were clear: Social VR is not a straightforward fix. The same features that make it appealing can also create real risks.

The first concern was social cues. People with ADHD often struggle with reading facial expressions, picking up on tone of voice, or knowing when it’s their turn to speak. Those challenges don’t disappear in VR. Avatars have limited expressions, and communication can feel different in virtual spaces. As one practitioner explained, “Kids with ADHD have a harder time paying attention to social cues, and in a VR setting, they might miss signals that other users pick up on.” The very environment designed to help with social skills may also make some of those skills harder to practice.

The second concern was whether skills learned in VR actually transfer to real life. Virtual interactions tend to be more predictable than everyday social situations. One practitioner pointed out that doing well in VR doesn’t always mean someone will succeed in the messiness of real-world interactions. To address this, practitioners suggested that VR should include emotionally dynamic scenarios where virtual characters respond with a range of reactions, like surprise, frustration, or confusion, rather than scripted, predictable exchanges.

The third and biggest concern was overstimulation. VR environments are designed to be immersive and stimulating. That can capture attention, but for someone with ADHD, especially with sensory sensitivities, it can just as easily overwhelm. One practitioner described it this way: “It might engage them at first, but if there’s too much going on, they’ll either check out or get dysregulated.” And in Social VR, users aren’t just managing visual and audio input. They’re also navigating moving avatars, background activity, and unpredictable social interactions, all at once.

The same technology that captures attention can also overwhelm it. That’s the double-edged sword.

Designing More Adaptable VR Experiences

Practitioners were not asking for more stimulating virtual worlds. They were asking for environments people with ADHD could actually regulate themselves within. The answer is not better VR. It is more adaptable VR.

Their suggestions came down to a few key ideas. First, make environments customizable. People with ADHD vary widely in what they can tolerate. Some are comfortable with noise and movement, while others need quiet, structured spaces. Social VR should let users adjust things like how many avatars are present, how much background noise there is, and how visually complex the space feels.

Second, use familiar scenarios. Abstract or unfamiliar settings can add confusion. Practitioners suggested building interactions around situations people already recognize, like a birthday party, a classroom, or a store. These give users a frame of reference, making it easier to anticipate social cues and practice responses.

Third, introduce difficulty gradually. Rather than dropping someone into a chaotic social scene, start with a calm environment and minimal distractions. Then slowly add complexity: more people, background noise, unexpected moments. This scaffolded approach lets users build confidence without becoming overwhelmed.

Finally, reward progress. Practitioners suggested tying achievements to things that already matter in VR, like avatar upgrades or new abilities. Completing small tasks, like finding a friend in a virtual park or asking for help in a store, could keep users motivated and give them a real sense of accomplishment.

The answer is not better VR. It is more adaptable VR.

Closing Thoughts

Social VR is not a cure for ADHD. It is not a replacement for therapy. But the practitioners we spoke with believe it could become something genuinely useful, a space where people with ADHD can practice the social and emotional skills that are hardest to build in real life.

The catch is that it has to be designed with them in mind. Not louder. Not flashier. More adaptable. More personalized. More attuned to how different brains actually work.

Right now, most Social VR platforms are built for general audiences. But neurodivergent users are already showing up in these spaces. The question is whether designers will build environments that support them, or overwhelm them.

The practitioners we interviewed are ready for this conversation. It’s time for the technology to catch up.

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This article is based on our research presented at ASSETS 2025, the ACM conference on accessibility and technology for people with disabilities.

By Mahya Tazike, Elmira Deldari, Adina Friedman, and Francesco Cafaro.

Mahya Tazike is a PhD student in Human-Computer Interaction at Indiana University Indianapolis studying AI, XR, and neurodivergent-centered design.