I’m privileged.
I have insurance. I have access to medication. I have people in my life who remind me it’s okay to rest when I need it.
And not a day goes by that I’m not deeply, painfully grateful.
I know how terrible it can be when insurance doesn't help let alone not having it at all.
The truth is, nobody should have to white-knuckle their way through life like that, even for a day.
And the fact that so many people do?
That’s not a personal failure. It’s a colossal failure of human character and culture.
If you’re raising a neurodivergent teen or young adult, you probably feel this in your bones.
You’ve seen firsthand how the systems we think should catch people — healthcare, education, mental health — sometimes look more like tightropes strung over cliffs.
One missed step, and the whole family feels it.
That awareness matters. It shapes how we show up in relationships — with our kids, with ourselves, and with the world around us.
It reminds us that compassion isn’t weakness. It’s survival.
It reminds us that giving our kids extra support isn’t spoiling them. It’s giving them a fighting chance.
And it reminds us that the real work isn’t about pretending everything’s fine.
It’s about building relationships strong enough to weather a world that often… isn’t.