You hear it in the way your child talks about their friendships, their school experience, or even about themselves. They wish things, and people, were different. They wish friends would respond in the way they hope. They wish they themselves could be someone else: more relaxed, more confident, more “normal.” There’s an ache under their words: Why can’t it be easier? Why can’t I be different?
For deeply aware and introspective neurodiverse students, this felt sense of tension is undeniable. They live in a world built for others, not them. So it’s natural for them to wish for things to feel easier – to wish their environment, their relationships, even their own emotions would simply “fit” better. But underneath that wish is a quiet grief. The grief of wanting the world to meet them where they are, and wanting to meet it in return, without always feeling like they’re working extra hard only to end up falling short .
The more they wish things were different, the more self-critical they become. They start believing that if they were just “better,” “quieter,” or “less intense” everything would fall into place. They start believing that if people cared enough, they would change too. But deep down, part of them knows that neither can be forced – and knowing that hurts.
This week in therapy, a student shared: “I keep thinking if I were different, my life would be easier. And I keep hoping my friends would just understand better. I know I can’t change people, and I know changing myself entirely isn’t possible with my brain, but I still want to at times.”
We talked through the heavy sadness of realizing they were trapped between wanting acceptance and feeling like acceptance depended on being someone else. Through therapy and tutoring, we worked on helping them separate change from self-rejection – building the idea that growth is possible without having to erase parts of themselves.
We practiced radical self-acceptance skills – starting small, learning to hold space for the parts of themselves they wished were different without judgment. Their tutor reinforced these lessons too: encouraging realistic goals, flexible self-advocacy skills, and celebrating effort over perfection.
Parents learned to shift the conversation from “You’re amazing just the way you are” (which can sometimes feel dismissive) to “It’s okay to want things to feel easier. And it’s also okay to love yourself exactly as you are right now. Both are okay.” – making space for both grief and hope at the same time. Over time, the 11yr old student began seeing that wishing for change didn’t make them broken – and that they could want growth without abandoning themselves along the way.
If your child feels trapped between wanting others, and themselves, to be different, they’re not lost. They’re learning what it means to live with complexity, and to love themselves even inside that tension. At Warrior Brain, our integrated therapy, coaching and tutoring options help neurodiverse students and their parents to build self-acceptance, resilience, and real emotional tools to navigate life authentically.
