Neurodivergence in Kids
A guide to parenting neurodivergent children
Note: I am in no way a parenting or child psychology expert. I am a parent with autism and ADHD, raising a highly sensitive child with ADHD, doing my best to make it through the roller coaster we call life. This article is about my own experiences and will not relate to everyone.
What does it mean to be neurodivergent?
Neurodivergence is a philosophy that embraces differences in brain function in individual people. Neurotypical describes those whose brains have standard or “typical” functioning and processes. Neurodivergent or neurodiverse describes those whose brains process, learn, or function differently from what is considered “typical”. Those with neurotypical brains are often framed as “normal", while those with neurodivergent brains are often framed as abnormal or problematic.
It’s important to remember that not everyone’s brain functions in exactly the same way, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Neurodivergence is not an illness, but a way of learning and processing information in a society that does not cater to that. Between 2009 and 2017, approximately one in six school-aged children were diagnosed with a disability such as autism or ADHD. Undiagnosed children are labeled as problematic or lazy, often failing to get the support and accommodations they need to succeed at school.
Traits of Highly Sensitive Children
- They become easily overwhelmed by stimuli like lights, sounds, and smells. Highly sensitive children absorb every detail of their surroundings, which can cause them to be easily overwhelmed.
- They possess a strong sense of curiosity and inquisitiveness, and show extreme sensitivity to the emotions of others. At times, their sensitivity may become so intense that the emotions of other people overpower their own.
- They are aware of positive or negative changes in the environment, and perceptive and intuitive to others.
- They are sensitive to pain and unpleasant stimuli, such as harsh punishment. Highly sensitive children tend to be anxious in new situations and around new people. They are slow to warm up to others and may appear shy, nervous, or asocial when meeting new people.
- They possess a strong sense of justice and compassion, showing empathy to other people and animals, even bugs or insects. They tend to be cautious and take their time with new experiences, preferring comfort and safety over diving in headfirst.
- They experience strong emotions which may manifest as extreme. Highly sensitive children are susceptible to meltdowns due to their deep emotional internalization.
- They might be perfectionists. Highly sensitive children are very self-conscious and sensitive to critique or criticism. They may struggle to overcome negative emotions, and show powerful reactions to injustice or immorality.
- They require substantial time to rest and recharge after activities, and may experience insomnia due to overstimulation or stress.
Parenting Styles
Authoritarian
Authoritarian parents are strict and controlling, prioritizing obedience and being in charge. They are likely to have household rules which may or may not be consistent. Authoritarian parents show low levels of trust towards their children and often discourage open communication in the home. There is often punishment for disobedience rather than discussion or discipline.
Common traits of authoritarian parents are inflexibility and strictness, high expectations of good behaviour and academic performance, emotionally cold or withholding, uncommunicative, and quick to punish a child they think has been “disobedient.” Being raised by authoritarian parents can lead to anxiety or depression, low self-esteem, and poor social and communication skills.
Authoritative
Authoritative parents value structure, warmth, and communication in the household. They value effort and dedication with or without success, holding high expectations for their children, and regularly communicating expectations. They believe in teaching their children by modeling behaviour and structure, and they enforce rules and expectations in ways that are fair and empathetic.
Authoritative parents communicate and enforce rules in ways that are easily understood. They show control in a way that is not overbearing or intimidating, but warm and respectful. Children raised by authoritative parents are likely to be emotionally mature, socially adept, and assertive in their boundaries.
Free Range
Free range parents believe in fostering independent exploration in their children. They believe in their childrens' intelligence and competence, encouraging them from a young age to make their own decisions and act independently. Free range parents do not over-involve themselves in the lives of their children or make decisions for them. The goal of free range parenting is to help children develop confidence, responsibility, social skills, logic, and decision making skills: which, like other parenting styles, has benefits and drawbacks.
Free range parenting is not ideal for all personality types. Although it teaches children independence and confidence, lack of supervision can lead children to make harmful decisions and get themselves or other people into trouble.
Gentle
Gentle parenting aims for mutual respect and compassion, considering children to be equal to their parents. Gentle parents believe their relationship with their children is more important than being right or demanding obedience. They teach children self control by setting examples, and aim to instill confidence in their children by using respectful communication that takes the child’s perspective into account.
There’s a misconception that gentle parenting means a lack of guidance or discipline. Instead, gentle parenting aims to discipline by setting boundaries, praising positive behaviour, and remaining consistent.
Permissive
Permissive parents possess a large amount of warmth toward their child, but little control. Because permissive parents value their childrens’ happiness over all else, they rarely say no and do not typically enforce rules or boundaries.
Uninvolved
Uninvolved parents are emotionally and/or physically absent. They typically display a lack of control and do not emotionally respond to their childrens’ accomplishments and achievements. Uninvolved parents do not demand affection: and in turn, often reject affection from their children. They are not likely to enforce rules, structure, or boundaries in the home, and they do not put effort into communicating with their children.
Those raised by uninvolved parents are much more likely to engage in behaviours such as theft, drug use, shoplifting, and smoking. They are prone to depression and may internalize feelings of low self-worth and hostility toward others.
Parenting a Child With ADHD
Behaviour
01. Provide positive attention. Set aside at least thirty minutes every day to do an activity together. Avoid electronics.
02. Effective instructions. void instructions with multiple steps. Gain your child’s full attention by turning off devices and establishing eye contact. Give one specific task at a time, or provide a checklist.
03. Praise efforts. Give praise for specific tasks rather than general praise.
04. Time Out/Time In. Create a safe, quiet place to go when feeling overwhelmed or frustrated.
05. Ignore mild misbehaviours such whining, complaining, making loud noise, or interrupting.
06. Allow natural consequences. For example, if your child refuses to wear a jacket in the cold, let them go without so they learn the consequences of going outside in the cold without a jacket.
07. Create a reward system. Use positive reinforcement as a way of behaviour modification. Positive reinforcement encourages behaviour changes.
08. Establish token economy system. Determine positive behaviours that should be rewarded and negative behaviours that need to be improved. Develop a behaviour management plan that is simply and easy.
Discipline
- Establish clear rules and consequences.
- Create motivation to follow rules by providing positive reinforcement. Set aside one on one time daily, and praise your child for following the rules.
- Offer warnings when appropriate by using when-then phrases.
- Be consistent.
- Provide structure.
- Explain the reasoning behind rules.
- Model self-discipline.
- Use positive reinforcement to praise good behaviours.
- Teach and model problem solving skills.
- Discuss the emotion behind the action or behaviour.
The Importance of Mental Health Days
- Promotes mental wellness.
- Reduces stigma.
- Improves academic performance.
- Prevents burnout.
- Teaches self-care and responsibility.
- Creates a supportive environment.
- Addresses individual needs.
Self care activities for kids
- Foster emotional connection
- Get some fresh air
- Have some quiet time
- Play together
- Write in a journal
- Read a book
- Create art
- Listen to music
- Meditation or yoga
- Snuggle up with a pet or blanket
- Take a bubble bath
- Draw or create art
- Bake something
- Make a cup of tea or hot chocolate
- Watch your favourite movie
- Look at the stars
- Write a story
- Take a nap
- Blow bubbles
- Declutter your bedroom
- Play a sport
Sources & Further Reading
https://parentswithconfidence.com/mental-health-day-activities-kids/
https://scienceandliteracy.org/why-students-should-have-mental-health-days/
https://childrensguild.org/understanding-neurodiversity-in-children/
https://www.verywellmind.com/what-to-know-about-raising-neurodivergent-kids-5666990
https://julienflorkin.com/psychology/mental-health/neurodivergence/
https://childmind.org/article/what-is-neurodiversity/
https://www.ldrfa.org/understanding-neurodivergence-guide-for-parents/
https://mentalhealthcenterkids.com/blogs/articles/self-care-ideas-for-kids
https://whatcherithinks.com/self-care-activities-for-elementary-students/
https://wetheparents.org/parenting-styles
https://theartofbeingmom.com/gentle-parenting-discipline/
https://www.happierhuman.com/highly-sensitive-child-traits-wa1/
https://childmind.org/article/what-to-do-and-not-do-when-children-are-anxious/
https://raisingchildren.net.au/toddlers/health-daily-care/mental-health/anxiety-in-children
About the Creator
choreomania
i'm a queer, transmasc writer, poet, cat lover, and author. i'm passionate about psychology, human rights, and creating places where lgbt+ youth and young adults feel safe, represented, and supported.
30 | m.
follow me on medium for more.
Keep reading
More stories from choreomania and writers in Psyche and other communities.
makers of misery
i haven't done much writing lately. at least, not as much as i'd like to. i wish to write about black history month, or executive dysfunction, or the struggles of being neurodivergent in a society that doesn't cater to me. i wish to write about so many things, and yet i cannot connect the thoughts in my head to the tips of my fingers.
By choreomania11 months ago in Psyche
When Your Thoughts Become Your Enemy
I've never been physically harmed by another person. But for thirty years, I've carried an abuser with me everywhere I go—a voice in my head that knows exactly how to destroy me, that never sleeps, never relents, never runs out of ammunition. The cruelest part? That voice is mine. I'm staring at a text I've rewritten seventeen times. It's just a simple message to a friend—casual, friendly, nothing important. But my mind has turned it into a minefield. Each version gets scrutinized, dissected, rejected. Too enthusiastic. She'll think you're desperate. Too casual. She'll think you don't care. That emoji is childish. She'll think you're immature. No emoji looks cold. She'll think you're mad at her. An hour passes. The text remains unsent. I give up, delete the entire thread, and spend the next three hours convinced I'm a social failure who can't even send a normal text message like a functioning adult. This is what it's like when your thoughts become your enemy. Every moment is a battle you can't win, because the opponent knows every weakness, every insecurity, every past failure. The opponent is you. The Voice That Never Stops I can't remember when the voice started. It feels like it's always been there, a constant narrator providing running commentary on everything I do, say, think, or feel. But it's not a kind narrator. It's a critic. A judge. A prosecutor building a case for why I'm fundamentally defective. You're so awkward. Everyone noticed. That was a stupid thing to say. They're all judging you. You'll never be good enough. Why do you even try? Look at everyone else succeeding while you struggle. What's wrong with you? The voice sounds like me—my tone, my vocabulary, my speech patterns. But it says things I would never say to another person. Things so cruel, so cutting, so relentlessly negative that if someone else spoke to me that way, I'd recognize it as abuse. But because the voice is mine, because it lives inside my own head, I accepted it as truth. For decades, I believed that this constant stream of self-criticism was just realistic self-assessment. I thought everyone's internal dialogue was this harsh. I didn't realize I was being psychologically tortured by my own mind. The Architecture of Self-Hatred The voice didn't appear randomly. It had architects. My father, who responded to every mistake with disappointment and disdain. "Is that really the best you can do?" he'd ask, even when I'd tried my hardest. Nothing was ever good enough. My mother, who loved me but constantly compared me to others. "Why can't you be more like your sister? She never has these problems." The kids at school who found my differences—my quietness, my sensitivity, my interests—worthy of mockery. "You're so weird. No wonder no one wants to hang out with you." Each voice, each message, each moment of criticism got internalized. They became the foundation of my inner dialogue. By the time I was twelve, I'd built an entire internal system dedicated to constant self-surveillance and judgment. I thought this was normal. I thought everyone had a voice telling them they weren't enough, weren't right, weren't acceptable. I didn't realize I'd essentially installed an abuser inside my own head. The Daily Assault Living with a hostile internal voice is exhausting in ways that are hard to explain to people who don't experience it. Every action gets evaluated and found wanting. Making breakfast: You're eating too much. You have no self-control. Going to work: Everyone there knows you're incompetent. You're fooling no one. Talking to colleagues: They're just being polite. They don't actually like you. Every interaction gets replayed obsessively, dissected for evidence of failure. A conversation that seemed fine in the moment becomes, under the voice's scrutiny, proof of my social inadequacy. A work presentation that went well becomes evidence that I'm a fraud who somehow tricked people into thinking I'm competent. The voice excels at worst-case scenarios. A friend doesn't text back immediately? They're done with you. You said something wrong. You always do. A minor mistake at work? You're going to get fired. Everyone will know you're a failure. It's like having a terrorist living in your brain, constantly threatening catastrophe, constantly predicting doom, constantly ensuring you never feel safe or secure or good enough. The Isolation of Internal War The cruelest aspect of this kind of suffering is how invisible it is. People would tell me I seemed confident, capable, successful. They had no idea that inside, I was being shredded by my own thoughts every moment of every day. They couldn't hear the voice telling me I was worthless even as I smiled and nodded in conversation. I couldn't explain it. How do you tell someone, "I'm being abused by my own mind"? How do you articulate that you're in constant psychological pain from a source no one else can see or hear? I tried once, to explain to my partner why I'd been quiet and withdrawn. "My thoughts are really mean to me," I said, and immediately felt ridiculous. It sounded childish, trivial. He looked confused. "So... just think different thoughts?" he suggested, genuinely trying to help. If only it were that simple. You can't just "think different thoughts" when your entire neural architecture is wired for self-attack. It's like telling someone with a broken leg to "just walk normally." The system itself is damaged. So I stopped trying to explain. I suffered alone, in my head, where the voice could continue its assault without witnesses, without intervention, without mercy. The Breaking Point The crisis came on an ordinary Tuesday morning. I was getting ready for work, and the voice was particularly vicious. Criticizing my appearance, my clothes, my body, my hair, my face. Nothing was right. Everything was wrong. I looked in the mirror and heard: You're disgusting. No wonder no one could ever really love you. You're fundamentally unlovable. You should just give up. And something in me broke. Not dramatically—there was no sudden decision or moment of clarity. I just... couldn't anymore. I couldn't carry this voice one more day. I couldn't live in a head that hated me. I couldn't survive this internal war. I called in sick to work, made an emergency appointment with a therapist, and said the words I'd never said out loud before: "I think my thoughts are trying to kill me." Understanding the Enemy My therapist didn't look surprised. She'd heard this before. She had a name for it: "toxic internal critic" or what some call the "inner critic gone rogue." "It's a part of you that developed to protect you," she explained. "When you were young and facing criticism or rejection, this voice internalized those messages to help you avoid future pain. If it criticized you first, you'd be prepared for others' criticism. If it kept you small and controlled, you'd avoid rejection." The voice had started as a misguided protector. But over decades, it had become a tyrant. She taught me about cognitive distortions—the ways anxious and depressed brains systematically distort reality to confirm negative beliefs. My internal voice used all of them: All-or-nothing thinking: "If you're not perfect, you're a complete failure." Catastrophizing: "One mistake means everything will fall apart." Mind reading: "Everyone is judging you negatively." Personalization: "Everything bad that happens is your fault." Understanding these patterns didn't make the voice stop. But it helped me recognize that the voice wasn't telling truth—it was filtering reality through the lens of trauma, fear, and distorted thinking.
By Ameer Moavia7 days ago in Psyche
Comments (1)
This was awesome. I never knew that.