Creative Parenting for Neurodivergent Children – Part 2

Creative Parenting for Neurodivergent Children – Part 2

Creative Parenting for Neurodivergent Children

The Nurturing Practices That Shape a Life

When people talk about parenting, they often focus on outcomes.

Resilience.
Independence.
Confidence.

What rarely gets talked about is the felt sense a child carries into adulthood — the quiet, embodied knowing of whether they were safe to exist as themselves.

When I reflect on creative parenting for neurodivergent children, I don’t first think about strategies.

I think about atmosphere.

The nurturing practices my Mum offered weren’t grand or performative. They lived in the ordinary spaces: bedtime, play, food, conversation. And yet, they shaped everything.

Because what she gave us was not performance.

It was safety.

Stories as Regulation

Some nights, Mum read to us.
Some nights, she couldn’t.

She was a single parent, exhausted long before exhaustion had language. But even when she didn’t have the energy to read, she lay beside us and told stories instead. Familiar ones. Tweaked ones. Magical ones that felt half-alive in the dark.

Looking back as a neurodivergent adult, I see what those stories really were.

They were regulation.

Softening the edges of the day.
Creating continuity.
Offering predictability wrapped in imagination.

For neurodivergent children, stories can act as a bridge — between stimulation and rest, between chaos and coherence.

When I think about creative parenting for neurodivergent children, I think about that bridge.

Play as a World-Building Tool

We grew up with very little money, but we never felt deprived.

A cardboard box became a stagecoach.
A footstool became a driver’s seat.
Hobby horses carried us into entire worlds.

What mattered wasn’t the object. It was the permission.

Permission to —

  • Imagine fully
  • Immerse
  • Take play seriously.

As an adult, I understand something I couldn’t name then:

Imagination is not escapism for neurodivergent children.

Imagination is processing.
Integration.
It is nervous system recalibration through story and movement.

Creative parenting for neurodivergent children honours this instead of dismissing it.

Meeting Sensory Needs with Creativity

Food was complicated.

Textures lingered.
Smells overwhelmed.
Certain after-feels stayed far too long.

Instead of forcing compliance, Mum invited curiosity.

Enter: Spiderman’s favourite foods.

One day a letter arrived. A list was revealed. Suddenly, the question shifted from
“Why won’t you eat this?”
to
“What would Spiderman choose?”

Play replaced pressure.
Identity replaced shame.

When a neurodivergent child feels respected instead of corrected, the nervous system loosens its grip.

That shift is not small.

It is foundational.

Trust as the Ultimate Gift

As we grew older, Mum didn’t tighten control.

She loosened it.

Decisions were talked through. Risks were named. But the final choice was ours. And when things didn’t work out, she didn’t weaponise hindsight.

She stayed.

As a neurodivergent adult reflecting back, this might be the practice that shaped me most.

Trust teaches responsibility without fear.
Autonomy without abandonment.
Exploration without exile.

Creative parenting for neurodivergent children is not about removing structure.

It is about embedding structure inside relationship.

Video: Creative Parenting for Neurodivergent Children – Part 2

In Part 2 of this series, I explore these themes more deeply — and what happens when traditional parenting frameworks simply do not fit the nervous system of the child in front of you.

A Closing Reflection

What stays with me is not any single strategy.

It is the orientation underneath it all.

We were —

  • Seen
  • Trusted
  • Allowed to become.

As an adult, that early sense of safety still lives in my nervous system.

Creative parenting for neurodivergent children does not guarantee ease.

But it does shape identity.

It shapes whether a child grows up believing they are a problem to be solved —
or a person to be understood.

That difference lasts a lifetime.

When the Rule Book Doesn’t Fit

For many neurodivergent adults, there comes a moment of reckoning:

You realise the rule book you were handed was never written with you in mind.

If this reflection resonates, I’ve created something inspired by this very truth – When the Rule Book Doesn’t Fit

It’s for neurodivergent adults and reflective parents who are ready to question inherited templates and create regulation-informed ways of living instead.

Get Your FREE Copy Here

You Might Also Be Interested In

Creative Parenting for Neurospicy Kids: The Clever Systems My Mum Used (Part 1)
A reflection on the gentle systems that quietly reduced conflict and built safety.

Creative Parenting for Neurodivergent Learners: When the Rule Book Doesn’t Fit (Part 2)
A learning-focused perspective on regulation before compliance.

Daydreaming or in Shutdown? How to Support Neurodivergent Kids (and Yourself)
Pick the differences between daydreaming and shut down – it matters!

Forever in my heart
Gentle Re-Entry for Neurodivergent Routines

Gentle Re-Entry for Neurodivergent Routines

Gentle Re-Entry for Neurodivergent Routines

Sensory-Friendly Ways to Find Flow After a Pause

Finding flow after the holiday pause…

Coming back from holidays can feel like walking through fog — quiet in texture, heavy in sensation. For neurodivergent minds, transitions don’t click into place; they unwrap slowly.

Instead of forcing focus or rushing back, we can practise gentle re-entry — listening to rhythm, honouring sensory needs, and rebuilding momentum with ease.

Why Transitions Matter

Transitions ask your nervous system to switch modes:

from rest to focus, from social to task-oriented, from pause to action.

This isn’t just a mental shift — it’s a bodily one.

And when your body isn’t ready, your mind can feel foggy, tired, or resistant.

This is normal. And there are ways to make it gentler.

Sensory and Practical Practices for Re-Entry

1. Slow Start Rituals

Before diving in, build a warm-up:

  • 3 deep breaths with your favourite sound
  • Sitting with a warm drink in silence
  • A gentle stretch or roll of shoulders

These signal safety and readiness.

2. Anchor Activities with Sensory Signals

Use sensory markers to begin tasks:

  • Light a candle

  • Play a grounding beat

  • Touch a textured object before starting

These act like bridges between “pause” and “go.”

3. Bring Your Body In

Sometimes thought comes after movement.
Try:

  • 30 seconds of walking
  • Rocking or swaying
  • A light sensory reset like brushing arms

Movement can wake the mind gently.

4. Frame Tasks as Invitations

Instead of: “I have to do this now,” try:

  • “I’m curious about this part”
  • “Just five minutes to start”

The invitational language feels less heavy and more choice-based.

5. Use Rhythm to Regulate

A drum, a breath count, a slow beat — rhythm can guide the nervous system back into flow.
Try:

  • Breathe in 4, out 6

  • Tap gently to an even beat

  • Play low, steady sound tones

Rhythmic patterns shift the nervous system from overwhelm toward steady presence.

6. Write One Thing Down

Create a tiny action list:

  • “Open journal”
  • “Review one email”
  • “Sit at desk”

Noticing what you did resets your inner compass.

7. Honour What Is

Some days are slow. Some days are quiet.

This isn’t resistance — it’s information.

Your nervous system is speaking. Listen.

Flow returns at its own pace.

Watch the Video

Closing Reflection

Transitions are not failures — they are invitations to return to rhythm, in your own way, in your own time.

If you’d like ongoing support with nervous system regulation, sensory awareness, or rebuilding routines with compassion, I’d love to walk with you.

Connect here for coaching and sound healing support.

You May Be Interested…

If gentle re-entry feels relevant, you might also enjoy:

Each offers rhythm-aware ways to understand focus, movement, and embodied flow.

You’ll find more videos on my YouTube channel, Different… and Loving It!

Neurodivergent End of Year Reflection Season

Neurodivergent End of Year Reflection Season

Neurodivergent End of Year Reflection

Honouring Your Own Rhythm in a Busy Season

The end of the year has a particular texture.

Longer days. Louder spaces. A constant hum of expectation.

For many neurodivergent adults, this season can feel less like celebration and more like endurance.

When the Season Feels Heavy

You might notice:

  • Sensory fatigue from crowds, noise, and social events 
  • Emotional exhaustion from being “on” too much 
  • Guilt for not keeping up with others’ pace 
  • A push-pull between longing for connection and craving solitude 

None of this means you’re doing the season wrong.

It means your nervous system is speaking.

Choosing Nourishment Over Obligation

One of the most powerful shifts is allowing yourself to choose differently.

Some years, nourishment looks like:

  • One quiet catch-up instead of multiple gatherings
  • A slow walk as the sun sets
  • A warm drink with a familiar playlist
  • Sitting still and noticing how far you’ve come

The end of the year can be a gentle turning of the page, not a frantic scramble.

A Sensory Grounding Practice

You can return to this anytime things feel too much.

Let your eyes close or soften.
Breathe in slowly… then exhale a little longer.

Feel the weight of your body being held by the ground.

Notice one sound nearby — not to analyse it, just to let it exist.

Now imagine:
A quiet forest, sunlight warming your skin.
Or the steady rhythm of a drum beneath you — slow, grounding, constant.

Let that rhythm remind your body: you are safe to slow down.

As you breathe, ask gently:
“What is one small choice that could bring me ease right now?”

No fixing. No forcing. Just noticing.

Watch the Video

Closing Reflection

As this year comes to a close, your rhythm matters more than tradition, productivity, or expectation.

If you’d like continued support, you might enjoy my Soothing Sounds playlist — 10-minute sound sanctuaries created for neurodivergent nervous systems.

I also have openings in January for:

Because being different isn’t broken —

It’s just another rhythm 🌙

Why I Still Say Neurodivergence Is a Superpower

Why I Still Say Neurodivergence Is a Superpower

Why I Still Say Neurodivergence Is a Superpower

I know not everyone likes the term “superpower” when it comes to autism, ADHD, dyslexia, or other forms of neurodivergence.

Some say it sugarcoats real challenges. Others feel it sets unfair expectations. And I hear that — truly.

But here’s why I still say it.

Because For Many, The Starting Point Is Feeling Broken

When you grow up being constantly corrected, misunderstood, or labelled as “too much” or “not enough,” you internalise the belief that there’s something wrong with you.

Many of the neurodivergent people I work with (and this includes me) spent years feeling defective. Masking, shrinking, trying to meet standards that were never designed for our brains or bodies.

So when I say “your neurodivergence is a superpower,” it’s not to deny the hard bits. It’s to disrupt the old story that we’re somehow fundamentally flawed.

The Double-Sided Coin

Neurodivergence often means living with big challenges: sensory overload, executive dysfunction, overwhelm, social burnout.

But the same brain wiring that makes us struggle can also be what makes us shine.

  • That laser focus on a passion?

  • The way patterns jump out where others see nothing?

  • The creative problem-solving, deep empathy, or fierce sense of justice?

That’s not in spite of being neurodivergent. That’s because of it.

What It Feels Like Inside

When I’m in a flow state — writing, making music, or guiding a sound session — it’s like my entire nervous system is lit up from the inside. Everything clicks. Colours feel brighter, ideas spark, connections form effortlessly.

Is it overwhelming sometimes? Yes.
Is it beautiful? Also yes.

It’s why I sometimes describe neurodivergence as having a sensitive instrument — finely tuned, sometimes fragile, but capable of picking up and creating things others might miss.

Why “Superpower” Still Matters To Me

Because it reframes. It says:

  • You’re not broken, just different.

  • Your traits are not defects, they’re part of a beautifully complex design.

  • You have capacities that are unique — and deeply needed in this world.

It’s also about hope. About planting the idea that even if school, work, or relationships have felt like relentless uphill battles, there’s still immense value in how your brain and body work.

Of Course, Challenges Are Real

Saying “it’s a superpower” doesn’t mean ignoring meltdowns, shutdowns, executive dysfunction, or the exhausting reality of living in a world not built for us.

But it does invite us to see the whole picture — including the brilliance and magic woven through our differences.

Keep Exploring With Me

I talk more about this in my video Why I Still Say It’s a Superpower (Even When Others Don’t).

If you’ve ever felt caught between “I’m struggling” and “I’m extraordinary,” this one’s for you — it’s about rewriting the old narrative of brokenness into one of worth and wonder.

You might also love:

You can find these — along with soothing sound sessions, supportive chats, and honest reflections for my neurokin — on my YouTube channel, Different… And Loving It!

You’re not less-than. You’re not too much.

Your neurodivergence holds its own kind of superpower — whether that means seeing connections others miss, feeling life intensely, or loving with your whole heart.

And that’s something worth celebrating.

Yellow Ladybugs Conference 2025

Yellow Ladybugs Conference 2025

Yellow Ladybugs Conference 2025

I recently had the privilege of attending the Yellow Ladybugs Conference 2025 — a space dedicated to supporting autistic girls and gender-diverse young people. It was an inspiring, heart-opening experience filled with wisdom that I’m eager to share with you. Here are some of the most powerful insights that stayed with me:

Reflections and Insights 

Neurokin: The Power of Connection Among Neurodivergent People

One beautiful concept I encountered is neurokin — yes, that word really exists!

It describes the unique connection and understanding that naturally forms between neurodivergent individuals. It’s that unspoken bond, a deep sense of being seen and understood without explanation.

Neurokin reminds us that community isn’t just nice to have — it’s vital for our wellbeing and growth.

When Escalation Happens, Step Away

A key practical reminder was about emotional escalation.

Sometimes, especially within families or close communities where neurodivergence is common, tensions can rise quickly, with everyone amplifying each other’s stress.

The advice was simple but powerful: if you find yourself escalating with someone else, it’s a clear sign to step away — physically or emotionally — to reset before reconnecting.

This pause can prevent misunderstandings and create space for compassion.

Conflicting Needs Within Neurodivergent Families

Many neurodivergent traits are shared within families, which means conflicting needs are natural and expected.

Sometimes, two or more people want different things at the same time — sensory comfort, quiet, movement, or social interaction.

The takeaway? Express your needs clearly, listen to others, and sometimes prioritise whose needs take precedence in the moment.

It’s not always easy, but communication and mutual respect help everyone feel seen and supported.

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD): A Lifeline for Understanding

I had never heard of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD) before this conference.

Learning about RSD was deeply helpful in understanding why so many neurodivergent people can find themselves in dysfunctional or painful relationships.

RSD involves intense emotional pain triggered by perceived (or real) rejection or criticism — often disproportionate to the event itself.

Knowing about RSD can be a lifeline: it’s not “just being too sensitive,” but a neurological response that deserves compassion and tailored strategies.

PDA Is So Much More Than “Not Wanting to Be Told What to Do”

Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA) came up frequently.

The common misconception is that PDA means simply “not wanting to be told what to do.”

But in reality, PDA is a complex profile that affects everyday life deeply. It involves anxiety-driven avoidance of demands, sometimes leading to creative resistance, social strategies, or emotional shutdowns.

Understanding PDA means seeing beyond behaviour to the underlying emotions and needs — which opens pathways for more supportive responses.

The Power of Lived Experience: Nothing About Us Without Us

A thread throughout the Yellow Ladybugs Conference 2025 was the importance of lived experience

When it comes to understanding and supporting neurodivergent people, nothing replaces the insight of those who have walked the path themselves.

Whether it’s through research, education, therapy, or everyday advocacy, the voices of neurodivergent people must be central. Lived experience brings nuance, authenticity, and clarity that no second-hand interpretation can match.

When we centre neurodivergent voices, we move closer to support that actually fits — support that respects autonomy, celebrates difference, and meets real needs with compassion.

As they often said: “Nothing about us without us.”

Energy Meter: A Brilliant Tool for Managing Your Day

One of the most practical tools shared was the Energy Meter from Autism Level UpThis tool invites you to gauge your current energy levels and consider whether your energy matches the task at hand. For example, if you’re “amped up and fidgety,” is that the right energy state for working on a focused project?

If it’s not a match, do you need to level up or level down?

What’s especially important is that you — the individual — decide where you are at and choose the energy level required for your task. Everyone expresses energy levels differently.

As they say, “If you’ve met one Autistic person, you’ve met one Autistic person.” There’s no one-size-fits-all approach. Autism Level Up offers resources to help you learn how to adjust your energy intentionally to meet your needs.

Closing Words

Attending the Yellow Ladybugs Conference 2025 reminded me how important it is to stay curious and compassionate — especially with ourselves and those we love who navigate the world differently. It also reminded me how important community is – where there is an unspoken understanding and deep respect for one another. I am already looking forward to next year’s conference.

The insights I gained are gifts I’ll carry forward, and I hope sharing them can support you too.

If you’d like to hear more about any of these topics or want resources, please reach out or comment below. Let’s keep building that beautiful neurokin community together (you can come and join Different… and Loving It! if you like!).

With warmth and deep respect,
Lucinda

Late-Identified Neurodiversity – Rediscovering Myself

Late-Identified Neurodiversity – Rediscovering Myself

Late-Identified Neurodiversity = Internal University

Figuring out that I’m neurodiverse in my mid-50s certainly qualifies as late-identified neurodiversity!

I’ve always known — and embraced — that I’m different. But it’s only recently that I’ve begun to understand the full scope of my neurodiversity. I may be neurodiverse in multiple ways.

I’ve always known I was an introvert, and that felt like part of my neurodiversity. But discovering that I’m also autistic?

That part is new.

Looking Back Through a Neurodiverse Lens

With the insight I’m gaining now, I can see autism running through my life like a thread — sometimes fine and golden, sometimes tangled.

As a child, I loved solitude. I’d read science books and do experiments, learn to knit and crochet from crafting guides, and explore the vivid, layered world inside me.

When I did venture out, I saw things that weren’t right. Even at 7 or 8, I was campaigning to protect animals and the environment — creating petitions, going door to door to collect signatures, and sending them to the government.

I also had what my parents called “tantrums” — which meant being sent to my room (blessed solitude!). Now I understand these were likely meltdowns. The world overwhelmed me, and there was little awareness of autism back then.

Interestingly, my dad self-diagnosed as “mildly autistic.” It never quite landed with me — but he made me feel normal in a way no one else did.

Masking… and the Cost

Masking is the art of hiding your neurodiverse traits to fit into the neurotypical world.

Given I’ve gotten this far in life with only about four people recognising I might be neurodiverse – I’m pretty good at it! 

My mission now is to gently unpick the mask — to understand when and how I mask, and most importantly, the toll it takes on my energy.

But because masking has become so automatic, it’s difficult to spot.

One video on YouTube helped illuminate this for me — I’ll share it below. I’ve watched it several times, laughing out loud at how deeply I relate.

(Especially the “watching the movie” scene… oh my stars — that is so me. It’s probably why I adore The Detectorists.)

Watch it here:

What’s Beneath the Mask?

I’m still discovering that part.

I’ve taken a short pause from life — a reset — to tune into my own rhythms. I’m learning what I truly need, and what my limits are.

Here’s what I’ve uncovered so far:

🕊️ Making time for myself early in the day
🐶 More puppy time (play and cuddles!)
🌪️ Limiting time in environments that are intense or draining
🗓️ Structuring my days to reflect my needs — which are still evolving
🚫 Saying firm no’s to what feels soul-sapping
🌿 Spending more time in nature — restoring myself, and watching satin bowerbirds build their bowers
🍲 Eating in ways that support my body
💫 Welcoming in more of what I love

This journey of late-identified neurodiversity is not about labelling. It’s about liberation. About finally seeing myself with clarity, compassion, and care.

And maybe, just maybe, letting that mask fall away — one kind choice at a time.

Have you ever experienced a moment of self-discovery that changed the way you see your past?

I’d love to hear what helped you make sense of your difference — whether recently, or long ago.

Please feel welcome to share in the comments, or just sit with the question gently and see what it stirs.