Sometimes I wonder how my parents did it. How my grandmother did it too, widowed and raising three primary school kids. The difference is, they had a village. My mum had support. My grandmother had people around her. Family, neighbours, friends who showed up, checked in, and helped carry the load. That village shaped my childhood, and I truly believed I would have one for my own kids.

But I am raising three neurodiverse boys without a village, and it is one of the hardest parts of motherhood.

Raising neurodiverse kids without support

Every day I am navigating parenting challenges that feel new, even when I have already lived them a hundred times. Some days it is sensory overload, emotional dysregulation, or meltdowns that come out of nowhere. Some days it is the constant decision-making, trying to figure out what is a real boundary and what is a battle that will drain us all.

I never know if I am choosing the right approach. I never know if I am meeting their needs properly. I just keep trying, because they deserve a mum who keeps showing up.

The mental load of motherhood and constant second guessing

Most nights I go to sleep feeling regret. I replay my tone. I replay the moments I did not handle well. I tell myself tomorrow will be a fresh start. I wake up determined to do better, and then the day unfolds and I am back in survival mode, trying to hold everything together.

By night time, the regret returns again.

I just want to be seen

And honestly, sometimes I do not even need someone to babysit. Sometimes I just need support for mums in the way that matters most. I want to feel seen. I want someone to say, I see you mumma. You are doing well. Hang in there.

But there is no village. No kind words. No reassurance. No one reminding me that I am not alone.

Carrying everyone, carrying everything

So I carry it all. I carry the emotional load of motherhood. I carry my own anxiety. I carry the weight that comes with supporting a family, supporting a partner, and raising neurodiverse children in a world that does not always make space for them.

Parenting neurodiverse kids is beautiful and exhausting at the same time. And when you do it without help, it can feel like you are disappearing inside the work of it all.

If you are a mum without a village, this is for you

I am writing this as a reminder, for myself and for any other mum who is searching for support, searching for community, searching for proof that someone else understands.

If you are raising neurodiverse kids without a village, I see you.

You are not lazy. You are not failing. You are not weak.
You are carrying more than most people will ever understand.

And you are still here.
Still trying.
Still loving.
Still showing up.

Jasmine

Founder of Mums The Word Melbourne and autism mum

I am learning in real time how to raise neurodiverse kids, hold a family together, and still remember myself. If this entry sounds like your life, you are not doing this alone, even on the days it feels like you are.