Parent Self-Care and Support: Why This Conversation Matters

Mother and child

We recently had the chance to sit down with Julie M. Green, a writer and mother of an autistic son. Her book, Motherness, is an honest, raw account of motherhood that stayed with me long after I finished it. Julie also received her own autism diagnosis later in life, which adds depth and clarity to the way she reflects on parenting, identity, and survival.

As I was reading Motherness, I kept thinking about another book that used to be a recommended read, Let Me Hear Your Voice. It was one of the first books I read in undergrad that offered a deeply personal, unfiltered look at the early years of parenting a child with autism. For its time, it gave voice to the intensity, fear, and devotion parents were living with, in a way that clinical textbooks simply didn’t.

Motherness feels like an updated reflection of that same honesty, written in a very different era, with more language for neurodiversity, identity, and self-understanding. Where earlier narratives often centered around urgency and fixing, Motherness allows space for complexity, grief, love, exhaustion, and acceptance to coexist.

That conversation with Julie, and her writing, is the reason I wanted to talk about parent self-care this month. Not in a polished or aspirational way, but in a real one.

Because motherhood is hard.
And parenting a neurodivergent child raises that difficulty to an entirely different level.

Motherhood Is Already Overwhelming

Speaking as a mom myself, I often feel like I’m behind.

Behind on registering for care.
Behind on booking appointments.
Behind on returning emails, remembering forms, scheduling yet another thing that somehow needs to happen during work hours.

Even with resources, education, and support, motherhood carries a constant mental load. There’s always something you’re tracking, planning, or worrying about, often quietly, often alone. And the feeling of being “behind” can creep in even when you’re doing everything you can.

That feeling is not a personal failure. It’s the reality of modern parenting.

When Your Child Is Neurodivergent, the Load Multiplies

For parents of neurodivergent children, that mental load doesn’t just increase, it changes.

In addition to the usual demands of parenting, there is often:

• More appointments to book and coordinate

• More decisions to make, with less certainty

• More advocacy required in systems that aren’t built for flexibility

• More emotional labour: explaining, anticipating, buffering

• More public scrutiny and private self-doubt

Julie’s writing in Motherness captures this beautifully and painfully. She puts words to the exhaustion that comes from constantly adjusting, interpreting, and holding space, not just for your child, but for everyone else’s expectations too.

This isn’t about loving your child more or less. It’s about the intensity and persistence of responsibility.

Why Self-Care Can Feel Impossible — and Still Matters

When parents hear “self-care,” it can feel tone-deaf. A bath or a walk doesn’t solve systemic barriers, sleep deprivation, or the emotional weight of advocacy. And yet, from both a clinical and human perspective, parental wellbeing matters deeply.

We know that:

• Chronic stress affects regulation — for adults and children

• Burnout narrows patience, flexibility, and joy

• Parents don’t struggle because they lack resilience, but because the demands are relentless

Making Space for the Full Emotional Experience

One of the most important messages in Motherness is permission, permission to feel conflicting things at the same time.

You can love your child deeply and feel exhausted.
You can feel proud and still grieve.
You can be capable and still need help.

These emotional combinations are not signs that something is wrong. They are signs that you care.

As clinicians, we see this all the time. As a parent, I feel it too.

What Support Can Actually Look Like

Supporting yourself doesn’t mean adding more to your plate. Often, it’s about reducing isolation and pressure:

• Name your experience. Reading stories like Julie’s reminds parents they’re not alone, and that matters.

• Let “good enough” be enough. Progress doesn’t require perfection, for you or your child.

• Build small moments of regulation. A quiet coffee, a few deep breaths, a pause before the next task — these moments add up.

• Seek honesty, not comparison. Look for spaces where real experiences are welcomed.

• Ask for help sooner than later. Support is most effective before burnout takes hold.
  
  

What Real Self-Care Can Look Like (Without Adding More to Your Plate)

When parents hear “self-care,” it often sounds like something else they’re failing to do. Real self-care isn’t about spa days or bubble baths — it’s about protecting your capacity so you can keep showing up.

Here are some ways self-care can look in real life.

1. Reducing the Number of Decisions You Have to Make

Decision fatigue is one of the biggest drains on parents.

Real self-care can be:

• Automating what you can (same meals, same grocery order, same weekly schedule)

• Saying no to choices that don’t matter right now

• Letting some things stay “good enough” instead of optimized. Less choice = more energy for what actually matters.

2. Asking for Help Before You’re in Crisis

Many parents wait until they’re completely depleted before reaching out.

Support might look like:

• Accepting practical help, not just emotional support

• Delegating one task that consistently overwhelms you
  
  

• Letting someone else manage an appointment, form, or phone call

Needing help is not a failure of resilience, it’s a realistic response to sustained demand.

3. Protecting Your Own Regulation

You cannot co-regulate if you are constantly dysregulated yourself.

This doesn’t require long breaks. It can be:

• Sitting in silence for two minutes before responding

• Stepping outside for fresh air during a hard moment

• Pausing before problem-solving and reminding yourself, “This is hard, and I’m doing my best.”

Regulation is not indulgence, it’s a prerequisite.

4. Letting Go of the Idea That You Should Be “Caught Up”

Many parents live with a constant sense of being behind — on emails, appointments, registrations, paperwork.

Self-care can be:

• Accepting that you may never feel fully caught up, and that’s okay

• Choosing one priority at a time instead of carrying everything mentally

• Recognizing that systems are not designed to be easy — the difficulty isn’t you

Being behind does not mean you are failing.

5. Finding Spaces Where You Don’t Have to Explain

Explaining your child, your choices, or your exhaustion takes energy.

True support often comes from:

• Other parents who already understand

• Communities where honesty is welcomed

• Conversations where you don’t have to soften or justify your experience

Feeling understood reduces stress more than advice ever will.

6. Allowing Mixed Emotions Without Judgment

You can love your child deeply and still feel exhausted, frustrated, or grief-stricken at times.

Self-care includes:

• Letting those emotions exist without trying to correct them

• Releasing guilt for feelings you didn’t choose

• Remembering that complex emotions are a sign of care, not weakness

You don’t need to feel grateful all the time to be a good parent.

7. Remembering That You Are Also a Person

Especially for parents of neurodivergent children, identity can quietly disappear into roles: advocate, scheduler, interpreter, protector.

Self-care might be:

• Reconnecting with something that belongs just to you

• Letting yourself be more than “the strong one”

• Acknowledging that your needs matter too

Caring for yourself doesn’t take away from your child, it sustains you.

If You Know Someone Parenting a Neurodivergent Child: Here’s How You Can Be Their Village

Parenting a neurodivergent child can be joyful, inspiring, and rewarding, but it’s also intense, complicated, and often isolating. Even small acts of support can make a meaningful difference. Here’s how you can help:

1. Offer Practical Help Without Being Asked

Parents often carry invisible tasks: scheduling appointments, managing forms, coordinating care. You don’t need permission to help, just offer in a specific, concrete way.

• “I can take [child] for an hour so you can run errands.”

• “I can pick up groceries for your week.”

• “I can drive to that appointment with you.”

Specific offers are easier to accept than general “let me know if you need anything.”

2. Listen Without Judgement or Advice

Sometimes parents just need to be heard. Avoid immediately offering solutions unless they ask.

• Validate feelings: “It sounds like that was really exhausting.”

• Avoid comparing experiences: “It could be worse” or “At least…”

• Create space for honesty — the messy, complicated truth — without making it about you.
  

3. Respect Their Expertise About Their Child

Parents of neurodivergent children often become the experts on their child’s needs.

• Take cues from them about routines, supports, and what works.

• Avoid unsolicited instructions (“You should…”), especially about therapy, behaviour, or diet.

• Trust their judgment and celebrate their successes.

4. Normalize Rest and Boundaries

Part of being a supportive village is acknowledging that parents need breaks.

• Encourage them to take time for themselves without guilt.

• Offer to hold the fort so they can rest, attend an appointment, or just breathe.

• Remind them that saying “no” to social obligations is okay.

5. Include the Whole Family

Neurodivergent children thrive in loving, predictable, and understanding environments. Community support doesn’t just help the parent — it helps the child too.

• Attend birthday parties, playdates, or events in ways that are accommodating and inclusive.

• Celebrate the child’s interests and strengths authentically.

• Avoid pressuring the parent to mediate every interaction; let the relationship grow naturally.

6. Offer Consistency and Predictability

Parents are often managing many moving parts. Your reliability is itself a gift.

• Keep scheduled visits, calls, or check-ins.

• Communicate clearly about changes.

• Respect routines and sensory needs whenever possible.

7. Remember It’s the Little Things That Add Up

Support doesn’t have to be grand gestures — small, consistent acts often matter most.

• Send a kind text acknowledging their hard work.

• Drop off a meal or a simple treat.

• Celebrate milestones, no matter how small.

Being part of a parent’s village doesn’t take expertise — it takes empathy, reliability, and willingness to lighten the load. Every small act communicates: you are not alone.

A Final Thought

Parenting, especially parenting a neurodivergent child, is not a straight path. It’s layered, demanding, and deeply personal. Julie’s work reminds us that parents don’t need to be fixed or instructed, they need to be seen, understood, and supported.

At Elemenoe, we believe that caring for children means caring for the adults who love them. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, behind, or unsure, you are not failing. You are parenting in a world that asks a lot.

And you don’t have to do it alone.