WHAT I WISH YOU KNEW: A Neurodivergent Teen’s Guide to Identity, Belonging & Self-Esteem (Part 3)

This is part 3 of the “What I Wish You Knew” series. You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here

---

7. Let Me Tell My Own Story

“Don’t speak for me. Ask me what I want shared—and what I want to keep sacred.”

I’m not your project. I’m not a case study. I’m not here to be your inspirational story.I want to be real—not flattened or filtered.

Ask me what I want people to know.Ask me what I want to keep for myself.

What this might sound like, look like, or feel like:

• I might say, “Don’t tell them that—it’s personal.”

• I might use art, poetry, or music to say what I can’t put into plain words

• I might cringe when I hear my story told in a way that erases the hard parts—or the powerful parts

• I might get quiet or shut down if I’m talked over or spoken for

• I might surprise you with what I do want to share—if I’m given the choice

What I need:

• The right to own my story, my timing, and my voice

• Safe invitations to share in the ways that feel right for me—spoken, written, visual, metaphorical

• Adults who ask: “What would you like me to say (or not say) when others ask about you?”

How to support me when resistance shows up:

If I say “It doesn’t matter what I say—you’ll say it anyway,” pause. That’s not attitude. That’s grief.That’s the sound of someone who’s used to being spoken for.

Try:

“I’ve made assumptions before. That wasn’t fair. Can we reset, and let you decide what’s yours to tell?”

Respect builds trust. Trust opens doors.

What’s Happening Beneath the Surface

The brain’s sense of identity develops rapidly during adolescence—and storytelling is central to that. When my story is told without me, it hijacks my narrative memory systems—the way I make meaning of my life. It can even trigger emotional pain responses, as the brain interprets misrepresentation as a loss of agency and control.

But when I get to choose how my story is shaped and shared, my prefrontal cortexand language centers engage with integration and coherence. I start to feel ownership, not just exposure.

Storytelling with consent is healing. Storytelling without it can be harm.

Thanks for reading Bridging The Gaps! This post is public so feel free to share it with other parents, caregivers, teachers, adults who are finding their ways in supporting neurodivergent children.

8. Be Curious With Me, Not Controlling

“Ask me what I need. Don’t assume you know better.”

I know I’m still learning. I know I’ll make mistakes.But please stop making decisions about me without me.

I don’t want control over everything—I just want to be part of the conversation.I want to learn how to trust myself… with you beside me, not over me.

What this might sound like, look like, or feel like:

• I might ask, “Can I choose how to do this?” or “Can we try it a different way?”

• I might get reactive or withdrawn if I’m micromanaged

• I might refuse to participate—not because I don’t care, but because I feel powerless

• I might take longer to decide because I’m still sorting out what I actually want, not what’s expected

• I might light up when I’m given choices—even small ones

What I need:

• Voice in decisions that affect me

• Adults who say:

“Let’s figure it out together.”“What do you already know about what works for you?”

• Space to mess up without being shamed—mistakes are where I learn

How to support me when resistance shows up:

If I say “Why do I even have to do this?” or “You never listen anyway,” hear the question behind it:

“Do I matter in this relationship, or am I just being managed?”

Try:

“This isn’t about control—it’s about care. What would help this feel more doable for you?”

Collaboration is not weakness. It’s strength.

What’s Happening Beneath the Surface

The teenage brain is wired for autonomy—it’s part of healthy development.When I’m invited into decisions, my prefrontal cortex (which manages planning, self-awareness, and future-thinking) activates. I’m more likely to follow through on something I’ve helped shape.

But when I’m controlled without collaboration, my amygdala (threat detector) flares up. I enter fight, flight, or shutdown—not because I’m defiant, but because I’ve lost connection to choice.

Curiosity opens the door to co-regulation and shared trust. That’s where growth begins.

9. Be Honest About What You’re Learning Too

“I’m watching you. Be someone who’s still growing, not pretending.”

You don’t have to be perfect.I just want you to be real.

If you mess up, admit it. If you’re still learning about neurodiversity, tell me what you’re learning.Let me know I’m not the only one figuring things out.Let me know you’re human too.

What this might sound like, look like, or feel like:

• I might say, “Why don’t you ever admit when you’re wrong?”

• I might call out when something feels unfair—even if I don’t have the words yet

• I might act like I don’t care—but secretly, I notice everything you model

• I might soften when you say, “I got it wrong.”

• I might lean in when I feel like we’re both learning, side by side

What I need:

• Honest reflections, not performative perfection

• Adults who say:

“I’m still figuring this out too.”“I didn’t know that—thank you for teaching me.”

• Room to grow together, instead of being policed

How to support me when resistance shows up:

If I say, “You don’t understand,” don’t rush to prove that you do.

Instead say:

“You’re right. I’m still learning. What am I missing?”

Humility is regulation. It brings us closer.

What’s Happening Beneath the Surface

Some of us pick up on every small signal. Others don’t notice tone, facial expression, or body language at all.That doesn’t mean we can’t sense safety. It just means we experience it differently.

Even when traditional “social cues” are hard to read, our nervous systems are still listening—through patterns, energy, and consistency.

When you show up with honesty, when you admit mistakes or say “I’m still learning,”you help regulate my nervous system.It tells my brain and body:

“This person is real. I don’t have to perform to stay connected.”

From a brain-based view, this builds co-regulation—a process where your calm and openness help settle my stress response. It also supports relational neuroplasticity: the brain’s ability to rewire through safe, authentic connection.

When you model growth, I don’t just hear your words—I experience your permission to grow, too.And that reminds me: I don’t need to be perfect to be loved. I just need to be real.

After You’ve Read This

If you’ve made it to the end, thank you.

Thank you for not skipping past what’s uncomfortable.Thank you for holding space for truths that aren’t always easy to name.Thank you for reading these words not just with your eyes, but with your heart.

You don’t have to remember everything in this guide.You don’t have to get it right every time.You just have to keep returning—to curiosity, to care, to connection.

When you notice one of us withdrawing, masking, melting down, or pushing back—pause.Ask yourself: What might this be protecting?What doesn’t feel safe right now?What might they be longing for beneath the surface?

And then breathe.Soften.Attune.

Because your nervous system impacts ours.Your pacing influences our trust.Your presence—when grounded, gentle, and real—can change everything.

This guide isn’t the end of the conversation.It’s a beginning.

Let’s keep walking.

And let’s build the kind of world where none of us have to hide who we are to belong.

---

CHECK OUT OUR FREE RESOURCE:

Download your copy of WHAT I WISH YOU KNEW: A Neurodivergent Teen’s Guide to Identity, Belonging, and Self-Esteem

A neurodivergent teen’s invitation to be seen, heard, and held with care.

This poster series gives voice to what many neurodivergent teens feel but rarely get to say out loud. Each one is a window into their inner world—a mix of insight, emotion, and everyday truth.

Created as part of the Beyond the Labels project, these posters share 9 powerful “lamp posts” that support identity, belonging, and self-esteem. They include what neurodivergent teens may sound like, look like, or feel like in each moment—plus what they need, how to hold space during resistance, and why it matters neurologically.

Use these in classrooms, therapy spaces, hallways, homes, or wherever teens show up—especially when they’re quiet, misunderstood, or trying to stay safe.