When I was a kid, I heard a lot of messages about what I should be doing.

“Pay attention.”

“Try harder.”

“Stop daydreaming.”

“You’re smart enough to do this.”

The adults in my life meant well. My parents loved me. My teachers wanted me to succeed. But looking back as a neurodivergent adult, I wish they had understood one important thing:

I wasn’t giving less effort. I was using more effort than anyone realized.

I wanted to do well. I wanted to remember the instructions. I wanted to stay organized. I wanted to fit in. But my brain often felt like a radio scanning through stations while everyone else seemed tuned into the same channel.

The funny thing is that this isn’t a new struggle between generations.

Back in 1988, The Fresh Prince and DJ Jazzy Jeff gave us Parents Just Don’t Understand. The song humorously captures a universal truth: kids often feel misunderstood by the adults trying to guide them.

As a child, I related to that feeling. Adults saw my behavior. They didn’t always see my experience.

What looked like laziness was often overwhelm.

What looked like defiance was sometimes confusion.

What looked like carelessness was frequently frustration.

As a Christian, I also think about the Bible’s instruction to children:

“Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.” (Ephesians 6:1)

That’s important wisdom. Parents deserve respect, and children benefit from guidance.

But Scripture also speaks to adults. Just a few verses later, Paul writes:

“Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.” (Ephesians 6:4)

I love that balance. God calls children to listen to their parents, but He also calls parents to understand the hearts of their children.

Many neurodivergent kids are listening. They’re trying. They’re praying. They’re doing the best they can with brains that process the world differently.

Sometimes what they need isn’t another lecture.

Sometimes they need someone to ask, “What does this feel like for you?”

If one adult had asked me that question when I was young, it might have changed how I saw myself for years.

Maybe that’s the lesson I carry today. Understanding doesn’t replace expectations—it makes expectations more effective.

What is one thing you wish the adults in your life had understood about you when you were growing up?

Copyright © 2026 by Edna Brown. All Rights Reserved.