Unmasking Anxiety: The Impact of Neurodivergence on Motherhood
If you’re anything like me, you’ve always been kind of on the fringe, trying to balance living life by your own rules with the inner nagging feeling of not quite belonging in such a strange place with so many strange societal rules and norms.
And then motherhood happened and suddenly, you're grappling with these overwhelming and unfamiliar feelings of your life being out of your control. Nothing is predictable anymore. Your routines are a thing of the past. You’re now living life on the edge, instead of on the fringe.
It's like you're facing a stranger in the mirror every morning and you’re not sure how to deal with her and her big feelings. And the people you’ve known, the people who you’ve taught to see you how you could handle being seen are no longer there. Now there are new people and a new life and it feels like a lot.
I've been there. And I see you.
Neurospicy moms are pretty much involuntary superheroes.
We’re unique and extraordinary and filled with compassion, empathy, a strong sense of justice, lots of love, and a bit of angst. And sometimes, our superpowers get us into a wee bit o’ trouble.
The biggest challenges we face in motherhood are usually things we never see coming. And for a neurodiverse mom, this can quickly feel overwhelming. Because, obviously, in motherhood, there are plenty of things we never see coming.
Throughout our lives, we’ve learned to mask our neurodivergent traits so we could adapt ourselves to fit into a world that doesn't always get us. We're masters at concealing our struggles.
Until we can't anymore.
When my baby was born, it was like I had stepped into a new world. Which was fucking wild because I never actually felt like I belonged in the first one, and now here I was trying to navigate a world that felt even more strange. I couldn't recognize the person I was just months before. I felt like I was fumbling all by myself through a foggy maze, with no map or guidance, while this tiny amazing creature I’d dreamed of and created and loved so hard was depending on me to figure it the fuck out on the fly.
Years later, after the dust settled, I realized that the reason motherhood was so fucking hard for me was because I had no clue who I even was.
And that made my postpartum HARD. AS. SHIT.
For me, instead of months of snuggling with an adorable cooing baby who slept peacefully in the bedside co-sleeper, early motherhood was a soul-shaking season of my life that consisted of a family bed, constant breastfeeding, and an intense need to control every aspect of my new life – one that felt very out of control. One in which I couldn't quite figure out which mask I was supposed to be wearing.
Enter Postpartum Anxiety
Postpartum anxiety is a bitch – sneaky and relentless. And the fourth trimester, those first months after your baby arrives earth side, is like no other transformation you will ever experience in your life. The sleepless nights, the never-ending feeling of being on edge, feeling like your life is a game of beat-the-clock... The endless stimulation – new sounds, new smells, the messy house, and the endless loads of laundry, inability to make a meal, take a shower, get a minute alone in silence. It’s rough. And sometimes scary.
Naming my postpartum anxiety was the first step to breaking free.
When I was diagnosed with PPA in 2012, I had never even heard of it. I mean, I had Googled “Do I have postpartum depression” more times than I could count, but that wasn’t it. At the time I just thought I was a shitty mom and a terrible wife.
In my line of work, you hear the stories, You hear the cries for help. And you start to put the pieces together.
But WTF? Why are there so many moms being diagnosed with postpartum anxiety? Or struggling in silence? What is happening to make this happen? Why are so many women struggling? What is wrong with us?
The answer is nothing. Nothing is wrong with us.
There is something wrong in this world.
In past generations, being a neurodivergent mom might have been less of a mind-fuck, even if undiagnosed, because there was less pressure to be a supermom. There was less emphasis on presenting a flawless home, bouncing back to the “perfect” body, or managing to do it all while smiling and still wanting to have sex with your husband.
The wooden toys, the steamed organic baby food, the Planet Box ffs. And women weren’t judged by their ability inability to do it all.
Without the relentless comparison to the idealized image of a supermom, neurodivergent moms could probably navigate their lives with more authenticity and less judgment. The need to juggle endless responsibilities and societal expectations was less. Just less.
But thanks to social media, the pressure to be perfect has intensified. Modern society bombards us with unrealistic expectations, making it super challenging, especially for neurodivergent mamas to navigate the demands of motherhood without feeling overwhelmed and inadequate. The focus on presenting a flawless image can cause neurodivergent mothers especially, to suppress their authentic selves, which can lead to anxiety and depression.
If you’re struggling postpartum, with anxiety, or anything else, it doesn’t make you less of a mom. You’re amazing and incredible and the fact that this shit feels harder for you than it looks like it is for everyone else, there’s a reason. And when there’s a reason, there’s a solution. You’ve gotta find your groove, find your people, and set yourself up with the strategies and mindset that will set you free.
Let’s talk.
