Is Neurodivergence A Disorder, A Mark Of Genius, Or A Reaction To The Demands Of Modern Life?
When I was a little girl, I didn’t fit neatly into the expectations set before me. While other children could sit still, memorize, and regurgitate, I lived in a world of daydreams, drawings, music, and wonder. I was curious about everything, full of energy, and yet often labeled as “too much” or “not enough” depending on the day.
I didn’t have the language for it then, but I was living what we now call neurodivergence. To me, it wasn’t a disorder. It was simply how I experienced the world.
Today, as a mother of fifteen, and as someone on the spectrum myself, I’ve raised children who also didn’t “fit the mold.” Some struggled with dyslexia, some couldn’t focus in traditional ways, some resisted the cookie-cutter expectations of modern education. But all of them carried brilliance inside them—brilliance I could see, even when the experts couldn’t.
Mothers see deeper. We notice the sparks of genius hiding under the struggles. We recognize the talents that testing can’t measure. We feel the gap between what is labeled as “wrong” and what is actually extraordinary.
This is why I started The Thinking Tree—to create educational resources that nurture curiosity, embrace differences, and honor the natural brilliance of children who don’t thrive in rigid systems.
Disorder or Reaction?
So I ask: is neurodivergence truly a disorder, or is it a reaction?
For most of human history, children didn’t spend hundreds of hours confined to chairs under fluorescent lights, expected to be silent, still, and compliant. Childhood was movement, connection, exploration. Children learned by doing—tending animals, gathering herbs, fixing tools, cooking alongside their mothers and fathers. Life was alive with rhythm, wonder, and work that mattered.
Now, we’ve traded all of that for screens, standardized tests, and systems that treat sameness as success. And when children resist, we call them disordered. But maybe their refusal to adapt is not failure—it’s fidelity to something deeper and truer.
My Dream as a Girl
As a girl, I dreamed of creating a world where children could be free; where learning happened through curiosity, creativity, and connection. I didn’t imagine a career in publishing or inventing a method of homeschooling. I only knew that God had made me different, and my difference had value.
I remember holding onto that dream even when I didn’t know how to name it. And later, as I watched my own children wrestle with the same struggles and strengths, I realized: the world wasn’t broken because of them. The world was broken because it demanded they be less than who they were designed to be.
What If We’re Asking the Wrong Question?
What if Autism isn’t a “problem” but a way of seeing patterns others miss?
What if ADHD isn’t a disorder but a response to a world that crushes curiosity?
What if the real problem isn’t our children’s brains, but our society’s unwillingness to honor them?
What if Dyslexia isn’t a limitation but a doorway to new ways of processing and creating?
What if the real problem isn’t our children’s brains, but our society’s unwillingness to honor them?
A Call to Mothers
I believe the mothers of neurodivergent children are a force to be reckoned with. We are the ones who look past the labels. We are the ones who build safe spaces where our children can flourish. We are the ones who insist that our kids were not accidents, mistakes, or malfunctions, but masterpieces designed by God for such a time as this.
Our task is not to force them into conformity but to unleash their genius.
The World Wasn’t Made for Them, Or Them for This World?
Sometimes I wonder: Are our minds not made for this world, or has the world strayed so far from God’s design that it no longer makes room for our minds?
Either way, I know this: my children, and children like them, are not broken. They are brilliant. They are sensitive to wonder. They are alive with creativity. And they remind us of the humanity we risk losing when we trade curiosity for conformity.
Are our minds not made for this world, or has the world strayed so far from God’s design that it no longer makes room for our minds?
So to every parent raising a child who doesn’t fit: take heart. Their difference may very well be their superpower.
10 Tips for Creating a Home Where Neurodivergent Kids Can Thrive
1. Fill your home with beauty and rhythm.
Children feel safe when life has a natural flow. Simple rituals—lighting a candle before reading, a morning walk, instrumental music in the background, thought provoking questions asked at mealtimes, traditions and daily quests—these moments become anchors of peace in a busy world.
2. Create spaces that invite curiosity.
Instead of rows of textbooks, fill baskets with books, art supplies, nature treasures, puzzles, and journals. Let learning call to your child, not command them. Let them make collections, design, build, create and get into the flow!
3. Honor movement.
Neurodivergent kids often struggle with sitting still, but their minds come alive when their bodies are free. Build climbing, dancing, stretching, and outdoor play into daily life.
4. Reduce the artificial and embrace the natural.
Too much artificial lighting, plastic surroundings, and constant screen time can overwhelm sensitive minds. Open the windows. Let in sunlight and fresh air. Use warm, gentle lighting in the evenings. Replace screen time with walks in the woods, barefoot play in the grass, or stargazing at night. Nature resets the senses and restores peace.
5. Invite creativity into everything.
Provide paints, clay, musical instruments, sewing kits, building blocks—tools for self-expression. Creativity isn’t “extra,” it’s the way many neurodivergent kids process the world.
6. Give choices instead of commands.
Instead of “do this now,” try: “Would you like to draw or build today?” Freedom within boundaries builds confidence and reduces resistance.
7. Use FunSchooling Methods and Thinking Tree Journals to guide exploration.
I tossed typical curriculum and started The Thinking Tree Publishing Company. We publish funschooling journals that feel less like “school” and more like treasure maps. My methods allow a child to weave reading, writing, and problem-solving into the subjects they love most. I’ve decided to let my kids follow their passions, not a curriculum, but we keep it organized with Thinking Tree Books.
8. Make space for rest and retreat.
Some children need quiet corners or cozy nooks to recover from overstimulation. A hammock, tree house, tent, or soft blanket cave can be a sanctuary.
9. Celebrate strengths instead of magnifying struggles.
Notice what delights your child—birds, engines, drawing faces, baking bread—and let that be the doorway to deeper learning. Every gift matters. Don’t push your child to conform to standards. Customize their education around their talents and passions.
10. Lead with love, not labels.
Your child is not their diagnosis. They are a soul, a person, a masterpiece. When you see them as whole, they begin to see themselves that way, too.