Grow with their Flow

A Reflection on Understanding My Child’s Neurodivergence and How It Reshaped My Parenting

He had just spent hours learning Coding, entirely self-motivated, navigating complex concepts with an ease that amazed me. But that same day, we had a meltdown over a simple journal entry—Fun Times with Friends.

He sat there, paralyzed, unable to put words on the page. The frustration built until it erupted—tears flowing, emotions spilling over.

I watched him, torn between wonder and confusion. How could he teach himself to code but struggle so much with writing a few sentences? How could the same mind that built intricate Lego structures meant for adults completely freeze when asked to describe a memory?

And that was when it started making sense.

Before the Labels: The Signs Were Always There

Looking back, the signs had always been there—I just hadn’t connected them yet.

The huge meltdowns. The deep emotional intensity. The way he had taught himself to read at an age when most children were just beginning to recognize letters. His ability to hyperfocus on his interests, disappearing into worlds of dinosaurs, space, and coding, absorbing information like a sponge. His advanced problem-solving skills—evident in the way he effortlessly assembled intricate Lego sets far beyond his age level.

And yet, daily life felt like an uphill battle. Writing was a struggle. Routines were a constant power struggle. I would repeat the same instructions over and over again, only for him to seem as though he hadn’t heard me at all. Even his younger brother had started reminding him to get through the bedtime routine.

How could a child who was so bright, so capable in some areas, struggle so profoundly with things that seemed so simple?

I wrestled with the contradiction. Was I expecting too much? Was I failing him somehow?

His elementary school teacher was the first to suggest that he might be gifted. But I dismissed it almost immediately.

If he was struggling this much, how could he possibly be gifted?

The Moment of Recognition
It wasn’t just one moment but a series of them. The late-night Google searches, the deep dives into parenting forums, the stories from other parents whose children sounded just like mine. The slow realization that what I had dismissed as quirks or struggles to “work through” were actually pieces of a larger picture.

When the evaluation confirmed both his giftedness and his struggles—what’s known as twice-exceptionality (2e)—everything suddenly made sense.

Twice-exceptional kids are both gifted and have additional learning challenges. High ability can coexist with real struggles that aren’t always immediately obvious. It explained why he could hyperfocus on a topic that fascinated him but be wildly distractible with everyday tasks. Why he could solve complex problems yet melt down when faced with a simple worksheet.

I had been so focused on his challenges that I hadn’t seen his exceptional strengths for what they were.

Processing the Label: The Guilt and the Clarity

When we finally had an answer, I felt a mix of relief and guilt.

Relief, because I finally understood what was happening.

Guilt, because I hadn’t seen it sooner.

I’m an occupational therapist. Even though I hadn’t worked in pediatrics, shouldn’t I have noticed the signs? Shouldn’t I have trusted my gut instead of believing the well-meaning reassurances from other parents—those who told me all kids throw tantrums, all kids struggle sometimes, that he would grow out of it?

I see now that those reassurances, though meant to comfort me, had kept me from seeking answers sooner. I had doubted my instincts. I had focused on the wrong questions.

But guilt doesn’t change the past. It only steals from the present.

Moving Forward: No Looking Back, Only Looking Ahead

There’s no point in looking back with regret. Now, we focus on equipping him with the tools and skills he needs to thrive. We meet him where he is, not where the world expects him to be.

I no longer try to force him into molds that weren’t made for him. Instead, I help him understand himself—to build on his strengths, work through his challenges, and grow into the person he is meant to be.

And in doing so, I am learning just as much as he is.

To the Parent Who Might Be Where I Once Was
If you’re in that space of uncertainty, wondering whether to trust your instincts—this is for you.

Trust your gut. You know your child better than anyone.

Seeking understanding is never about labeling your child or putting limits on them—it’s about giving them the tools to navigate life in a way that works for them.

And if you’re feeling guilt for not realizing it sooner, let it go. You made the best choices you could with the knowledge you had. What matters now is what you do moving forward.

Your child doesn’t need perfection. They just need you.

And you are enough.

Understanding my son also led me to understand myself — that story begins in Am I Neurodivergent Too? — How Parenting a Neurodivergent Child Led Me to My Own Late Autism Diagnosis.