Families Like Mine Need Support, Not Scapegoats

Today's letter is written by Sunita Kapahi Theiss, an incredible member of my Low Demand coaching team

Lately it feels like every few months there’s a new headline trying to explain why some kids’ brains work differently. A new study. A politician’s soundbite. A rebranded theory about vaccines, Tylenol, diet, screen time—you name it. And every time, those stories pull attention away from what families actually need: rest, understanding, and support. If you’re a parent in a hard season right now, we see you. You might be running on fumes, doing your best to hold it all together while the world tells you to “try harder,” “stay consistent,” or “tough it out.” You may feel like you’re the only one who can’t quite keep up—when really, the truth is that the world isn’t designed with you or your child in mind.

It’s not your fault that you’re tired. It’s not your fault that you’re overwhelmed. It’s not your fault that you can’t do it all.

In the past few years, the U.S. Surgeon General has called both loneliness and caregiver stress public health crises. Those words aren’t exaggerations, they’re mirrors. Many of us are parenting in isolation, without enough hands to help, without systems that make space for difference. For parents raising neurodivergent kids (especially when some of us are neurodivergent ourselves!), that isolation can run even deeper.

It’s not just about feeling lonely, it’s about being left to navigate broken systems that weren’t built for us: schools and faith communities that often resist accommodations, workplaces that punish flexibility, healthcare that demands more energy than we have to give.

And yet somehow, every morning, we still get up. We pack lunches. Sit in waiting rooms. Advocate for services. Some of us homeschool. Try to predict the next meltdown before it hits. We love our kids with everything we have, even when the world makes it feel like it's harder than it should be. That’s why conversations that chase blame can feel so painful. They add one more layer of shame on top of exhaustion. They make parents question themselves when what we really need is compassion, care, and community.

Because what families need most isn’t a cause to chase. It’s connection.

We need neighbors who show up. We need friends who say, “I’ve got you,” instead of “Have you tried…?” We need spaces where we don’t have to mask or explain, where difference isn’t something to fix, but something to understand.

We need neighbors and leaders who are making it their business to ask: 

-How can we make our communities more accessible?

-How can we show up for parents who are running on empty?

-How can we create space for difference, not just tolerate it?

John Lewis famously encouraged people to get into “good trouble, necessary trouble” to effect change in their communities. Maybe when our children are telling us so clearly that things aren’t working, we have a chance to make a little good trouble ourselves: to push back against stigma, isolation, and blame—and to build something kinder in that place.

Low demand parenting starts right there. 

It starts when we trade perfection for presence, when we decide that our worth—and our children’s worth—was never meant to be earned through performance. It starts when we resist the demands of a world that asks too much of them (and too much of us), and we prioritize care, support, and accommodation.

If you’re feeling weary, you’re not failing. You’re human. And you deserve rest, belonging, and care, too.


Sunita Kapahi Theiss is an Indian-American PDA adult raising PDA children. Growing up in the South, she often struggled to navigate cultural, academic, and social dynamics, an experience that has deeply shaped her understanding of cross-cultural parenting. With firsthand experience balancing cultural expectations, faith, and the unique challenges of parenting and homeschooling neurodivergent children, Sunita is passionate about supporting families in creating low-demand, compassionate environments. Discover more of Sunita's writing on neurodivergent motherhood on her Substack.

You can explore 1:1 coaching options by clicking.