Embracing Neurodivergence

A Journey of Unschooling, Healing, and Compassionate Parenting

At 31 years old, as a mother to a neurodivergent 4.5-year-old, I made some profound discoveries about myself.

I am neurodivergent too. AuDHD is what they say to combine the terms autistic and ADHD and it’s genetic.

My first thought was it isn't fair. It makes sense, but isn't fair. The 'why not' kept coming up. Why couldn't my parents be strong enough to be like me, parent differently? Why couldn't I be seen the way I see my daughter?

I honestly never felt seen until I met my partner. He is my safe space, where I can be me without apology. I've always had to hide some part of me, conform to some type of system, or family. Ever since I can remember, each environment I was in had different rules I had to obey. At my mom's I could do one thing that was frowned upon at my dad's. It was easier for me to learn the harshest rules at one place and keep them at all places. My brain didn’t work like I was expected to, remembering the rules at one home for a full week then going to the next house with completely different rules. Since then, it was ingrained that I could never just be myself. It sounds normal for an adult, but as an autistic, empathetic child, that was my core belief of belonging and acceptance - do what I say and I’ll love you. I learned to mask because that's how I had to be loved. My parents decided to punish and shame me instead of being a partner in my life. Eventually, my biological father disowned me, once I started to be a parent myself. No one helped me to navigate, they only said what they would do in a situation, or what they believed was right.

I was obsessed with school as a child, but it was the routine I craved and needed. I struggled so much with school as a child. Not only was I punished at home for not knowing something or forgetting, but I was punished at school. No recess because I didn’t know my multiplication tables. The shame in them calling our names as we stood to line up to go to another teacher’s room to continue learning and being tested. Instead of being able to get some fresh air, that would have helped. Thinking back, I wish I had the accommodations that are now given to AuDHD kids.

I can flashback to all of grade school, at home, times I was "punished", and if only I hadn't learned to mask so well, maybe, just maybe, one adult would have realized. Hell, I had FOUR parents and most only have two. Every single one of them was caught up in their own life. I say these things because of the hurt, the trauma is there and it needs to be recognized. Any human with any type of diagnosis, especially a late one, needs to feel that sorrow and pain for their younger self. Even if that self was last week's younger version of yourself. We need to normalize showing compassion for ourselves and allowing ourselves to feel each emotion.

I think back to this past two years of life happening, and if only I knew I was in some type of extreme dysfunction of autistic burnout, I would have been able to have something in place so I didn't lose myself. It would have been nice to know that I didn't need to be so hard on myself, my daughter, or even my partner. When I think back to the times I tried to get her to conform to something even I couldn't do, it hurts my heart. I'm so glad I finally started to listen to my intuition and we stopped going to so many classes. I stopped trying to make her sit still. I'm so glad I stopped getting so angry at her for having accidents. As two empaths, if my energy is off, she feels it. The dysfunction was so intense. And I’m not going to lie, some days, it's still as intense. We still have meltdowns, shutdowns, and such, but there's so much more compassion now. Compassion for myself and each of us. We really are each trying our best in each given moment.

The more I learn about the world of neurodivergent humans, the safer and more compassionate I feel. All the negative self talk I had over the years that became much worse when I became a mom, it's nicer now. I feel "normal". The whole learning I’m “not a strange horse but a normal zebra” has helped. It's not that I'm a horrible mom and a lazy wife that the kitchen has been a mess for a week. It's that my ADHD paralasis has set in every time I see it and instead of being able to “just do it”, I'm tending to the recurring meltdowns from myself, and my child. I'm a great mom for prioritizing us and our relationships over what someone else may think of our home. I can't tell you if it's from studying Buddhism and learning about the third kind of suffering (the worst kind) or if it's from reading How To Do the Work by Dr. Nicole LePera and started healing by doing the work. Or if it's from joining my Weave ND community and listening to the other parents. Whatever it is that started it, everything has helped. I've been on this healing journey learning how to reparent myself and be there for me, while being a supportive partner in his healing and being a safe parent for my daughter.

I’ve realized that healing is not a destination but a continuous journey, one that requires patience, understanding, and a willingness to embrace every part of myself. It's about acknowledging the past, celebrating the present, and looking forward to the future with hope and resilience.

I’ve learned that being a parent, especially to a neurodivergent child, is not about perfection; it’s about presence. It’s about being there in the messy moments, finding joy amidst chaos, and creating a nurturing environment where my daughter feels loved and understood. We’re writing our own story with compassion as our guiding star.

Parenthood has taught me to be kinder to myself, to forgive my mistakes, and to celebrate small victories. It’s taught me to see the beauty in imperfections and to find strength in vulnerability. I am not just a mom; I am a protector, a guide, and a fellow traveler on this extraordinary journey of growth and discovery.

As I continue to navigate this path, I hold onto the belief that it’s okay to not have it all figured out. It’s okay to ask for help, to lean on others, and to take things one day at a time. I am grateful for the community of understanding souls who walk alongside me, reminding me that I am not alone.

Every day, I strive to create a world where my daughter feels safe to be herself—a world that celebrates differences and embraces neurodiversity. Together, we are learning to thrive in our own way, dancing to the rhythm of our hearts, and crafting a life filled with meaning, love, and endless possibilities.

P.S. If you enjoyed this insight, you’ll love my free community! It’s where I share bi-weekly audio lessons and resources for burned-out moms. Join us here: [https://www.mamabearyourself.com/community/mby]