You Don’t Have to Do It Alone: Building Your Own Support Team as a Parent of a Neurodivergent Child
One parent recently shared these honest words in an email:
“I am held back from living with more ease and connection because I hold so much in, until I can't. Then I cry. Or yell and feel bad about what a terrible person I am. I make it seem like I can handle it—life—by myself. But I am stuck because parenting a kid with autism is really hard, sometimes, and I don't know when or if it will get easier.”
There is so much truth in this. Parenting a neurodivergent child can be beautiful, illuminating, and rich. But it can also be profoundly lonely, especially when you feel like you’re the only one holding the family together. The guilt of losing your temper. The shame of not being endlessly patient. The exhaustion of pretending you’re okay when you’re not.
What this parent shared is something many of us need to hear: It’s okay to not be okay all the time. And you don’t have to carry this alone.
The Invisible Work of Holding It All Together
Many parents of neurodivergent kids operate like quiet superheroes. They research every therapy, attend every IEP meeting, rearrange work and life to accommodate children’s needs. They downplay how hard it is, even to themselves. They smile through it. They write journal entries they never share. They scream into pillows or forests or tape recorders. And sometimes, they send raw, unfiltered emails to the one person they trust to say, “I see you. You’re not a terrible person. You’re human.”
That kind of release—expressing the hard, messy truths—isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom. It’s strength. And it’s a kind of care that too many of us overlook: care for the caregiver.
This brave parent wrote to me in the same email:
“Kids with special needs have teams to help them grow and learn. I am putting together my own team for Project Joy in 2025.”
Oh boy, did I LOVE that. What if that became the norm? What if, just like we build support teams for our kids—OTs, speech therapists, educators—we started intentionally building teams for ourselves?
Project Joy: What If You Had a Team, Too?
Here’s the radical idea at the heart of this parent’s message: You are allowed to build a support team for yourself. Not just to get by, but to move toward joy, connection, and ease. Not one day, but starting now.
Your team might include:
- A trusted coach or therapist who reminds you that your feelings are valid
- A friend who “gets it” and doesn’t flinch when you talk about hard days
- A spiritual guide or practice that helps you stay grounded
- A journal or voice memo app where you can let it all out
- A partner or relative who shares the load, even if imperfectly
- Online or in-person support groups where you can be real
- A walking buddy who listens more than they fix
- A teacher, mentor, or parent coach who helps you focus on your growth
This isn’t indulgent. It’s necessary. Because when we stop performing strength and start practicing support, we create space for healing—and joy.
You’re Not Broken. You’re Exhausted.
Let’s say that again. You’re not broken. You’re exhausted. And when we give ourselves permission to be supported, we shift the story. We step out of isolation and into connection.
It’s also worth naming this: You are doing an amazing job in an incredibly demanding situation. Even when you yell. Even when you cry. Even when you doubt yourself. The fact that you care enough to feel all of this is a sign of your strength.
And as this parent beautifully put it:
“Ranting into a tape recorder, or into the forest, writing in a journal or composing emails that are never sent or sending emails to a trusted guide is brilliant.”
It is brilliant. Because it means you’re still reaching. Still hoping. Still trying to make space for yourself alongside the work of caring for your child.
Building Forward Together
If you’ve read this far, maybe it’s time to ask: What would your team look like? What do you need to feel more supported, more understood, more held?
Maybe you want to write your own “never sent” email. Maybe you want to join a parent group. Maybe your version of Project Joy includes 10 minutes a day just for you.
Whatever it is, know this: You deserve support. You are worthy of joy. And you are not alone.
Parenting a complicated kid can feel overwhelming—you don’t have to do it alone. Book a free 15-minute call and let’s talk through what’s going on. ⬇️