Neurodivergence Doesn’t Break Families - Ignoring It Can.

In Our House, Everyone’s Neurodivergent 

That wasn’t always language we had. 

It started with my children being diagnosed.
Then I saw the patterns in myself. In my husband. 

And I realised:
It wasn’t just my children who struggled.
It was all of us. 

The reactivity. The relentless overthinking. The avoidance.
The way we triggered each other, not out of malice, but because we didn’t know we all had similar response mechanisms. 

It’s Not Random. It’s Relational. 

Recently, a study confirmed what so many of us already live.
Spouses are far more likely than chance to share diagnoses like autism or ADHD.
(Spouses tend to share psychiatric disorders, massive study finds — Nature Human Behaviour, 2025)
It seems that in many ways, we really do find ourselves in each other.
The intensity. The “finally, someone who gets it.”
And then we build a life, and sometimes children, out of that wiring. 

This is why neurodivergence runs in families.
Not random. Relational. 

When Biology Takes Over

And it’s not always romantic! 

Because when everyone in the family has sensitive biology, here’s what it can look like: 

• Dad in fight mode → Never shown how to name or process emotion. Taught to shut down, to be “strong.” Until years of holding it together turn into flash anger.
• Mum in fawn mode → Keeping the peace at all costs. Feeling deeply, talking to friends, but avoiding her own needs. Measuring her worth by how much she does for everyone else.
• Children in a combination of stress responses → Anxiety, rage, meltdowns, shutdowns. Their biology screaming for safety.

That’s not a home.
That’s a perfect storm. 

Where I Had to Begin 

Here’s what I had to get to grips with: if I didn’t understand myself first, no one else could follow. Not my children. Not my partner. Not even me. 

I had to look at my wiring.
The control. The reactivity. The shutdown.
The parts that longed for connection and the parts that panicked when I couldn’t fix it. 

If the cycle was going to end, I had to go first. 

Not because I was stronger.
But because I was willing. 

Willing to stop blaming the diagnosis.
Willing to stop hiding behind “he doesn’t help” or “they’re just like that.”
Willing to stop performing the Good Girl while screaming with resentment inside. 

The Mothers Who Change the Pattern 

The mothers we work with aren’t perfect.
They’re honest. They’re brave. And they’ll do anything for their child. 

And here’s what they’re discovering: 

You can’t build safety for your child in a body that’s never felt safe itself. 

When she understands her own stress patterns, the whole family feels it.
When she understanding her own emotions, her children don’t have to carry them.
When she stops reacting and starts leading,
the house becomes a home again. 

Neurodivergence doesn’t break families.
But hiding from it, fearing it, shaming it, that can.