There is a scene that repeats in many homes.
A child is in the middle of a crisis. Screaming, crying, dysregulated. Their nervous system collapsed. And their mother is there. Breathing deeply. Trying to stay calm. Holding on.
But inside, she is also collapsing.
Because she has been holding on all week. Crises at school. Sleepless nights. Meetings with therapists. Managing appointments. Explanations to family who do not understand. Work that does not stop. A home that continues to need to function.
And in the midst of all this, she has to be the anchor.
The regulated person. The one who holds on. The one who does not crumble.
Because if she crumbles, everything crumbles.
I am a mother of two small neurodivergent children. Daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece of neurodivergent individuals. And I know it is not easy. It is not easy at all.
We talk a lot about supporting neurodivergent individuals. About their needs. About their regulation. About their rights. When I talk about this, I do so from within, from experience.
It is necessary to name it, to make it visible. It is fundamental.
But there is one thing that is constantly made invisible: families also need support. And here I also speak from experience.
Because often what we need is erased. Because they come first. My children come first. Always.
But we forget something crucial: if I am unwell, everything goes wrong.
I don't hold up the same way. I don't have the same patience. I don't have the same calm. And a lot of calm is needed. A lot.
Because often it's not so much about holding their emotions and reactions. It's about holding ours.
And here lies the crux of the matter.
That's why when I started working with neurodivergent families in Valls, I was excited. Because this space is so necessary...
We leave therapy and at home things are different. It's real life. And we need support. We need a tribe.
Are you a mother, father, sibling of someone neurodivergent?
When was the last time someone asked you how you are?
THE INVISIBLE FAMILY: WHO HOLDS UP WHEN NO ONE HOLDS THEM UP
When there is a neurodivergent person in the family, the entire family system organizes around their needs. And that's okay. But in this process, the needs of those who support become invisible.
The mother who has been unable to sleep well for months because her daughter has insomnia and needs nighttime support. The father who has left his job because the school calls constantly and someone has to be available. The sister who learns from a very young age to regulate her own needs because "your brother needs it more." The grandparents who don't fully understand what's happening but are there, holding up as they can, carrying the silent worry.
They are all there. Present. Holding.
But no one holds them up.
Therapies are for the boy, for the girl. Educational supports are for the student. Resources are designed for the neurodivergent person.
And the family... the family is supposed to manage on their own.
But it can't.
Because constantly holding on without a net, without a breath, without anyone asking you "and how are you?", is exhausting. It is not a lack of love. It is not a lack of commitment. It is a real, deep exhaustion, sustained over time.
"Unattended care inevitably leads to exhaustion. Not due to a lack of love, but due to the absence of a network."
— Research on family caregivers, Pearlin & colleagues.
IF I AM NOT WELL, EVERYTHING GOES WRONG
There is a truth that is hard to say out loud: the emotional regulation of the caregiver directly affects the regulation of the one being cared for.
If I am dysregulated, my child notices it. Their nervous system reads mine. And if I am tense, anxious, exhausted, collapsed... they also become more dysregulated.
It is not blame. It is neurobiology. Nervous systems co-regulate. Especially between mothers/fathers and young children. Your body speaks. And the other person's body listens.
That is why it is not selfish to take care of yourself. It is a family survival strategy.
When I sleep well, I have more patience. It is something I explain in my workshops and training, it is biological. When I have time for myself, I can better support their crises. When I feel accompanied, I can accompany better.
But the social message is different. The message is: "children come first, always". And yes, they come first. If necessary, I will go without sleep, or without food, or without whatever... But if the person who supports breaks, no one supports.
It's like on the plane. First, you put on your oxygen mask. Then you help the other. Because if you faint, no one is saved.
"The caregiver's regulation is not a luxury; it is a necessary condition for long-term support."
— Verònica Martín
THE INVISIBLE CHALLENGE: SUSTAINING YOUR OWN EMOTIONS
Here is what almost no one says: Often, the hardest part is not holding the emotions of your daughter or son. It’s holding your own..
Your daughter or son is having a crisis. They scream. They cry. They throw themselves on the ground. They break things. Or they hurt themselves, which for me is the hardest of all; I would much rather be bitten than have them hurt themselves.
And you feel anger. Frustration. Helplessness. Deep exhaustion. The urge to scream too.
But you can’t.
Because you are the adult. Because you are the one who holds. Because you are supposed to be regulated.
And then you hold onto that anger. That frustration. That exhaustion.
And it accumulates. Day after day. Crisis after crisis. Sleepless night after sleepless night.
Until one day you explode. Over something small. Something that has nothing to do with it. And you feel terrible. Guilty. Bad mother. Bad father. Or bad partner.
But you are not a bad mother. You are not a bad father.
You are exhausted. And no one has taught you how to hold your own emotions while holding someone else’s.
No one has told you that it’s okay to feel anger, or fear, or frustration. That it’s okay to be tired. That it’s okay not to be able to always.
And here’s the key: you need a space where you can fall apart too.. Where you can say "I can’t take it anymore" without feeling judged. Where someone holds you.
"Holding those who hold is not optional; it is prevention of systemic collapse."
— Verònica Martín
THERAPY VS REAL LIFE: THE VOID THAT NO ONE FILLS
Your daughter or son is going to therapy. Speech therapy, occupational therapy, psychology, whatever they need.
It is necessary. It works.
But then you go back home.
And at home there is no therapist. At home, it’s you. And real life. And the crises that don’t give warning. And the dinners that need to be made (and often remade). And the siblings who also need attention. And the work that is still there. And the partner you hardly talk to. And the extended family that has opinions without understanding.
Therapy teaches strategies. But real life is chaos.
And between therapy and real life, there is a huge gap. A gap that no one fills.
That’s where the family support. No more therapy. No more diagnoses. No more reports.
Support. Someone who looks at the family and says: "how are you? what do you need? how can we make this easier?".
Someone who understands that real life is not 45-minute sessions in an office. That real life is 6 in the morning when no one has slept. 8 in the evening when everyone is dysregulated. Sundays when there is no structure and everything falls apart.
This support, this looking at the family as a system, this "and how are you all?", is what is missing. And it is what is most needed.
"The gap between therapeutic intervention and daily life can only be filled with family support situated in the concrete reality of each home."
— Verònica Martín
WE NEED TRIBE (AND WE DON’T HAVE IT)
In the past, families lived in tribes. Grandparents, uncles, cousins, neighbors. All nearby. All supporting.
If a mother was exhausted, another would take over. If a child had a crisis, there were several adults available. If someone needed a break, the tribe provided it.
Now, families are alone.
Mother, father (if there are two, sometimes you are alone), children. And that’s it. Locked in a house. Holding on alone. Without a safety net.
And when the child is neurodivergent, this loneliness multiplies.
Because you can't ask for help from just anyone. Because not everyone understands. Because not everyone knows how to hold a crisis without judging. Because not everyone has the patience to explain the same thing a thousand times.
So you close yourself off more.
Going out is complicated.
Going to other people's homes is complicated.
Having others come to your home is complicated.
And you end up alone. Holding on alone. Exhausting yourself alone.
That's why family support spaces are so necessary, and I am so grateful to the Valls city council for making it possible and for trusting me. Because there you find your tribe. People who understand. Who do not judge. Who know what it means to hold on without a safety net. Who can say "me too" and those two words can save your day.
The tribe is not just practical help. The tribe is not feeling alone. It is knowing that there are others who live the same. Who understand. Who you don't have to explain to. Who you can fall apart with no fear.
"The tribe is not nostalgia for the past; it is a need for the present that we are not addressing."
— Verònica Martín
WHAT IS FAMILY SUPPORT REALLY?
Family support is not more therapy. It is not someone telling you what to do. It is not someone judging you for not doing it "right".
It is a space where the family can exist without having to function perfectly.
It is someone who looks at the whole system. Who asks: how is the mother? how is the father? how are the siblings? what does each one need? what is holding the system together and what is breaking it?
It is a place where you can say "I am exhausted" without being told "but you have to keep going". Where you can say "sometimes I feel angry" without being made to feel like a bad parent. Where you can cry. Where you can have no answers. Where you can be human.
It is also a space for learning, but not theoretical. It is situated learning. Strategies for your specific family. For your specific child. For your real life.
And above all, it is validation. Validation that what you are experiencing is difficult. That you are not doing it wrong. That it is okay to ask for help. That it is okay not to always be able to.
Because no one can always. And pretending that they can is killing us.
"Family support does not repair the family; it holds it up while it finds its own way to be."
— Verònica Martín
SIBLINGS ALSO NEED ATTENTION
And here is something that is often forgotten: siblings of neurodivergent individuals also need support.
They grow up learning that the needs of the other come first. That when there is a crisis, they have to wait. That they must be understanding. Mature. Patient.
And they are. Many times, too much. I tell you from experience.
They learn not to ask. Not to bother. To regulate themselves. To take care of their sibling even when they are little.
They need spaces where they can say "sometimes I get angry with my sibling". Where they can express jealousy without feeling like bad people. Where they can be kids, without always having to be the responsible ones, the ones who understand, the ones who give in.
Neurodivergent families need attention for all their members. Not just for the one with the diagnosis.
"Siblings carry invisibility and premature responsibility; they deserve their own attention and support."
— Research on siblings of individuals with disabilities, Stoneman
To start wrapping up...
If you are a mother, father, sister, grandparent of someone neurodivergent and feel that you can't take it anymore, that's okay.
If there are days when you crumble, that's okay.
If sometimes you feel anger, exhaustion, helplessness, that's okay.
You are not a bad person. You are not a bad caregiver.
You are holding on. And holding on without a net is exhausting.
You need someone to hold you too. You need a tribe. You need a space where you can be human, where you can not have answers, where you can rest.
And that space exists. Or should exist. And if it doesn't exist near you, create it. Look for other families. Form a tribe. Even if it's online. Even if it's small.
Because you can't do it alone. And you shouldn't have to.
How are you? What do you need? Who holds you?
Would you like ATIPICOS.org to create an online tribe?
I read you. And if no one has told you today: you are doing well. Even if it doesn't seem like it sometimes. Even if you don't feel it. You are doing well.
Verònica Martín
Director of ATIPICOS.org and A-Tipic Biointeriors