If you’re raising a neurodivergent child, then let’s be honest with each other. It is really, overwhelmingly, incredibly hard.

The meltdowns, having to constantly keep one eye on them, juggling all the appointments, therapies, and school meetings, worrying over their futures, the loneliness from people not quite understanding your life or your child. Some days, it’s so hard that you’re either head in your lap on the floor or crying in the shower, grieving the version of parenthood or the child you thought you’d have, and wondering how you’re going to keep doing this.

I’m not going to discount the hard stuff or pretend it doesn’t exist because I know it does. It’s so real and so valid, and I just want to say that you’re allowed to have all the feels without feeling guilty about it. But something I’ve noticed quite a lot in our journey is that there’s always a lot of focus on the hard stuff.

Whenever people share their experiences on raising neurodivergent kids, or when medical/health professionals talk about the assessments and the diagnoses, they usually talk about the weaknesses, the things to watch for. You get info sheets, referrals/scripts, lists of supports, and more appointments to add to your already busy calendar.

But along our journey, something that really stuck out for me was the appointment with our clinical psychologist when she was revealing the results of her assessments. In both her report and her conversation with us, she made a point not just to list out all our son’s strengths, but also to reframe any potential “weaknesses” as just more strengths.

It was so refreshing and encouraging to see things from a more positive perspective. That’s why in this blog post, I wanted to give you that opportunity too. We are already so familiar with the challenges of raising neurodivergent kids, but I think we could definitely use a reminder that there are positives too. So today, I’m going to shine some light on the unexpected gifts that come with raising a neurodivergent child.

I’m sure you’re no stranger to having to advocate for your child, so maybe you’d be surprised to think of it as a gift. But think of raising a neurodivergent child as unlocking a bonus level to your natural mama bear qualities. You discover a ferocity that you may not have known you had. Especially if before this journey, you were the person who avoided conflict, never spoke up, tried to keep the peace, and let the “experts” or authority figures in the room rule the show.

But by having to advocate for your child, you learn to walk into any room, navigate the situation, and unapologetically fight for your child; for their rights, the supports they need, for their side of the story to be heard. And as you keep advocating for them, eventually you learn to advocate for yourself and for others who may need help too. That ferocity and desire for justice becomes a part of you that you’ll carry into every area of your life.

The other thing about advocating for your child is that you start to redefine what success looks like. You learn to stop measuring success, your child, and yourself by the world’s narrow ruler. Instead of seeing success as getting the highest grade, coming first in a race, or being popular, we celebrate them being brave enough to participate, a connection that they made with another kid, or a moment they managed to regulate even when everything seemed to be against them. And this reframing of “success” is a gift because it frees you, and it frees your child. When you let go of the “supposed to’s” and the comparison game, there’s a lot less pressure and a lot more celebration.

And speaking of celebration, raising a neurodivergent child can help you see the world through a richer, sometimes more wondrous lens. As much as we hustle and bustle while trying to juggle all the various appointments and activities, our kids teach us to live in the moment and make us pause and come back to the present instead of sitting in a state of future anxiety.

They open our eyes to the wonders that are all around us every day. They point out all these things that might go unnoticed by others, like a little ladybird sitting on a leaf, a pattern in the clouds, or even just a different way of looking at something. Their curiosity enriches your life and makes you question why things are a certain way. “Normal” starts to look different, and you start to appreciate the things that make the world more interesting, including their beautiful selves.

But I've found the best gift of all though, is getting to not just experience but truly understand unconditional love. Don’t get me wrong - all kids teach their parents unconditional love, but it's like a neurodivergent child teaches you a different dialect of that love. Similar to what I talked about earlier, you learn to love and celebrate them not for their achievements or their behaviours, but for exactly who they are. You learn to love with grace, patience, forgiveness, and sacrifice.

And this sort of love changes you and helps you grow into someone better. You’re doing something that brings many people to their knees, but you keep showing up, trying, and learning. Raising your beautiful neurodivergent child(ren) has made you more resilient, more compassionate and empathetic, more self-aware, and even more confident and accepting of who you truly are. And you should be really proud of yourself for that.

Again, I’m not pretending that all the hard stuff doesn’t exist. These gifts don’t cancel them out, but I hope this blog post has given you a reminder that there is some light in the darkness, and there is beauty in this journey of raising neurodivergent children. And don’t forget, there is a community of us mums out there who are on this journey. You are not alone, mama. 💛