Raising neurodivergent young adults is something I didn’t think too much about when my kids were little.
My two older boys are both on the autism spectrum. One was diagnosed at 5, the other at 20. They are quite different, but both face challenges related to their diagnoses.
What Raising Neurodivergent Young Adults Looks Like
But what does raising neurodivergent young adults look like? How is it different than your typical young adult experience? How do you relate when things are so different for them than they were when you were their age?
What Does Raising Neurodivergent Young Adults Look Like?
Raising neurodivergent young adults often means letting go of the timeline you expected and learning to support the young adult in front of you. Independence, college, work, friendships, dating, driving, and moving out may all look different, and that does not mean your child is failing.
For parents, it can mean celebrating quiet wins, managing worry in a new way, avoiding comparison, and remembering that every neurodivergent young adult has their own path into adulthood.
There Is No “Normal” Timeline
One thing that was true when they were little, and still is true now, is that there isn’t a “normal” timeline. I already know that many neurodivergent young adults have their own timeline for things. Even neurotypical kids do. Not everyone will follow the same pattern.
It might take my kids a lot longer to get through college. It might take them longer to start dating, to drive, and to find what they want to do in life. And that’s okay. It is something I really have to remind myself of.
Independence Looks Different for Everyone
What does it actually mean to be independent when you have autism? Can you still live at home? Do you have to do everything yourself?
The answer to these questions is different for every neurodivergent young adult. In a perfect world, we would live on a piece of land, and my sons could have their own tiny homes. This would give them independence, but also let them know we are there if they need us. Unfortunately, that isn’t an option right now, and I am not sure what moving out looks like for them.
That being said, they are both able to work, do their laundry, make their own food, manage their money, and handle other tasks that young adults handle. In some ways, they are not so different from anyone else. They just need a little extra help sometimes.
The Worry Doesn’t Go Away—It Changes
Mothers will always worry about their children. It’s part of being a mother. And it changes as they get older.
The same is true for kids with special needs. When they are little, you have certain worries. When they are grown, you might not have those same worries, but you will have other ones.
I no longer worry that my son won’t be able to handle a room full of people; I worry he will have trouble making friends at work.
I no longer worry I have to show up with him everywhere, but I worry what his 20s and 30s might look like.
I no longer worry about getting through school, but I worry that he will be misunderstood by people.
Comparison Will Steal Your Peace
If I am honest, this is the hardest part about raising neurodivergent young adults. The comparison. Not only to people their own age but to myself at that age. When I was 19, 20, 21, my life looked completely different. I did not have the challenges they do.
If I didn’t like my part-time job, I looked for another one. I moved out at age 18, and I had an active social life.
But jealousy creeps in. And it really always has. When you have special needs kids, it can hurt your heart when you see other kids doing things you wish your kids could do too. I felt this way back when my son was a child, and I had to sit with him during a game while all the other kids could play it independently. And I felt it when his peers went off to college miles away, and he chose to take a few classes online at home.
The key is not to let jealousy control you. Acknowledge it, but then remember, each kid, no matter who they are or what their challenges are, is on their own path. There are so many wins for both neurodivergent and neurotypical young adults that there is no reason to compare. But at the end of the day, it is really, really hard not to.
A Reminder for Parents of Neurodivergent Young Adults
Raising neurodivergent young adults can look different from what you expected, and it is okay to feel the weight of that while still celebrating who your children are becoming.
- There is no one “normal” timeline. College, work, dating, driving, friendships, and independence may happen differently, and that does not make the path less meaningful.
- Independence can look different. Some young adults need more support than others, and that support can still exist alongside growth.
- Comparison can hurt. It is okay to notice the grief, but try not to let someone else’s path define your child’s progress.
- The quiet wins matter. A new job, a new skill, a brave conversation, or one more step forward is worth celebrating.
You Learn to Celebrate the Quiet Wins
A few months ago, my son got his first job. I was so proud of him. That was a BIG win, but we celebrate the smaller ones too.
The things he learns to do may be something someone else his age learned years ago. The little things that maybe even I notice.
Celebrating the small wins gives you so much hope and pride to carry you through to the next challenge that may arise.
You’re Still Learning, Too
I am still trying to figure it all out. I make mistakes, I change how I move forward, and we figure it out together.
What works for one kid, might not work for another. That’s a big struggle too.
How do I help each one of my boys based on what they need, and that’s even including my other son too.
I give myself grace because I have to. I am doing the best I can and figuring it out along the way.
It’s Okay to Feel Everything
As a 19-21-year-old, I had moved 9 hours from home, then across the whole country. I was in college, had a job, and a full social life. Things look a bit different for my kids, and that can be difficult to come to terms with.
Some days it makes me cry, but that’s when I remind myself. My kids are not me. I was not my kids.
And they are on their own paths, whatever that looks like.
And as the years go by, I will keep learning. I will keep loving them. I will keep helping them be who they are meant to be.