How to Parent a Neurodivergent Child When You’re Still Healing Yourself
Breaking cycles is hard as hell. Here’s how to show up for your kid—and yourself—without drowning in guilt.
Parenting a neurodivergent child while carrying your own unhealed shit is like trying to build a house while the foundation is still being poured. It’s messy, exhausting, and makes you question everything.
Maybe you’re breaking cycles no one before you had the strength (or tools) to break. Maybe your own childhood was filled with shame, punishment, or the silent expectation to just be normal. And now? You’re staring at your beautiful, complicated, deeply feeling kid and realizing you have no fucking blueprint.
Welcome to the club.
You are not alone in this. Parenting a neurodivergent child is hard. Parenting one while still healing yourself? Damn near impossible some days. But here’s the truth:
You don’t have to be “fully healed” to be a good parent.
You don’t have to get it right 100% of the time.
You don’t have to sacrifice your own needs to be enough.
What you do need? A little grace. A lot of patience. And a deep understanding that healing—both yours and your child’s—is a process, not a finish line.
Let’s get into it.
Step 1: Ditch the “Perfect Parent” Fantasy
First things first: If you’re measuring yourself against some ideal version of a parent who never yells, never gets overwhelmed, and always has the perfect, therapist-approved response to every meltdown—stop right now.
That parent doesn’t exist.
What does exist? Real parents. Tired parents. Parents who are trying their best, screwing up sometimes, and showing up anyway.
Instead of aiming for perfect, aim for “good enough.”
Good enough means pausing when you want to scream and taking a deep breath instead.
Good enough means apologizing when you mess up.
Good enough means doing the repair even when the initial reaction wasn’t great.
Perfection isn’t the goal. Connection is.
Step 2: Own Your Own Triggers (Without Letting Them Own You)
Listen, if you grew up in a home where you were dismissed, yelled at, ignored, or punished for being “too much,” your kid’s behavior is going to trigger the hell out of you.
The yelling? Might bring up your own childhood fear.
The defiance? Might feel like disrespect instead of dysregulation.
The inability to “just listen”? Might remind you of how you had to force yourself to conform, even when it hurt.
Your nervous system isn’t broken. It’s just wired for survival.
The key? Learning to recognize your reactions BEFORE they turn into responses.
Pause before reacting. Take a breath. Walk away if you need to.
Ask yourself: Is this about them, or is this about me?
Name it to tame it. “Wow, that hit something old in me. I need a second.”
This isn’t about blaming yourself. It’s about giving yourself the same compassion you want to give your kid.
Step 3: Stop Comparing Your Kid (or Yourself) to “Normal”
If you’re raising a neurodivergent child, there’s a good chance you are neurodivergent too—whether you know it or not. And even if you’re not, the world you grew up in probably drilled some version of this into you:
Sit still, follow directions, be respectful, don’t make excuses.
If you’d just try harder, you wouldn’t struggle so much.
Other kids can do it, so why can’t you?
Maybe those words were said to you. Maybe they still echo in your brain when your kid is having a hard time.
Here’s the thing: Your child’s brain works the way it works. No amount of discipline, structure, or wishing they could just be “normal” for five goddamn minutes is going to change their wiring.
Your kid is not “broken.”
Your kid is not being difficult on purpose.
Your kid’s struggles are real, even if they don’t always make sense to you.
And the more you accept them as they are (instead of as who society says they should be), the safer they will feel to grow into the best version of themselves.
Step 4: Drop the Guilt—Seriously, Drop It
Raising a neurodivergent child while carrying your own trauma can feel like you’re failing at both healing and parenting.
I should be more patient.
I should be able to handle this better.
I should be doing more for them.
STOP. RIGHT. THERE.
Parenting is hard. Healing is hard. Doing both at the same time? Fucking exhausting.
So here’s your permission slip to:
Mess up and still be a good parent.
Take time for yourself without feeling selfish.
Not have every answer.
Your healing is not a burden on your child. But your exhaustion? Your burnout? That is. Because when you pour from an empty cup, everyone suffers.
Step 5: Take Care of Your Damn Self (No, Really)
If you take nothing else from this, take this:
✨ Your needs matter too. ✨
Not just your child’s IEP meetings. Not just their therapy sessions. Yours.
Therapy for YOU. (Yes, you deserve support too.)
Rest. (Your brain needs it. Your nervous system needs it. Your kid needs you to take it.)
Joy. (Remember that? You’re still allowed to have it.)
This is not just about your child.
Healing yourself alongside them doesn’t just make you a better parent—it teaches them that self-care, boundaries, and emotional regulation are non-negotiable.
Final Thoughts: You’re Already Doing It
If you’re reading this, if you’re even thinking about how to parent better while healing yourself—you’re already breaking cycles.
You are doing the work your parents never had the tools to do.
You are showing up, even when it’s hard.
You are raising a child who will grow up knowing they are loved, accepted, and supported exactly as they are.
And that? That is beautiful.
Need support for you or your child? Hive Wellness Collective offers therapy in Ann Arbor, Dexter, and virtual therapy throughout Michigan. Let’s help you heal while still showing up for the kid who needs you most.
Reach out today to get started.