Tanya Valentin's Blog
August 28, 2025
Making Hygiene Accessible for Neurodivergent Kids with Laura Hellfeld
Hygiene can feel simple to some, but for many neurodivergent children and teens, especially those in burnout, it can be one of the hardest daily tasks.
In this episode of From Burnout to Balance, Tanya is joined again by Laura Hellfeld, a neurodivergent nurse and parent educator, to explore the layered challenges of hygiene and how parents can support their children with compassion, creativity, and flexibility.
Together, we discuss:
Why hygiene often becomes inaccessible during burnout.The role of interoception and sensory processing in everyday self-care.How trial-and-error, choice, and autonomy can make hygiene less overwhelming.Gentle, practical alternatives to showers and baths (like wipes, shower caps, and simple sensory tweaks).Navigating parental worries about social expectations and rejection.Why honouring autonomy and co-creating routines is key to building lifelong skills.This conversation is full of validation, real-life stories, and practical ideas to make hygiene less of a battle and more of a supportive, safe experience for your child.
📌 Resources & Links:
Follow Laura’s work and writing via Substack and her booksND Nurse Consulting WebpageLaura’s Newsletter & Articles on SubstackGabby’s Glimmers: An Affirming Story of an Autistic Child and their Favourite Food Creating Safe Spaces for Autistic People, bookLinkedInFacebookInstagramBlueSkyExplore more support inside From Burnout to Balance, Tanya’s parent membership community.FREE Burnout 101 mini-course – tanyavalentin.co/101Explore the healthcare products mentioned in this show: Simply Nootropics – https://glnk.io/ovx5q/tanyavalentinnzTANYAVALENTINNZ15 to get an additional $15 off your first orderThe post Making Hygiene Accessible for Neurodivergent Kids with Laura Hellfeld appeared first on Tanya Valentin.
August 14, 2025
Understanding Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD)
If your child often asks “Are you mad at me?”, melts down after small things, or avoids situations where they might “get it wrong”, you may be seeing Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD) in action.
And if you sometimes find yourself second-guessing your parenting, avoiding asking for help, or feeling crushed by criticism… RSD might be part of your story, too.
This short, accessible, self-paced mini-course is here to help you understand what’s happening beneath the surface of RSD behaviours, so you can respond with empathy, reduce shame, and build emotional safety for both your child and yourself.
What You’ll LearnThrough six bite-sized video lessons (each under 10 minutes), you’ll discover:
What RSD is and why it happens – in clear, parent-friendly languageHow RSD shows up in children at home, at school, and in friendshipsHow RSD shows up in us as parents – and how it shapes our responsesPractical, connection-first tools to help your child feel safe and understoodHow to move from rejection to recognition and build genuine self-worthPDA-friendly ways to offer recognition that don’t trigger shame or shutdownsYou’ll walk away with practical scripts, mindset shifts, and a gentle roadmap for navigating RSD moments with less stress and more connection.
Your Course ResourcesTo make this learning stick (and to give you quick help in the heat of the moment), you’ll also get:
PDA-Friendly Recognition Cheat Sheet – quick, low-pressure ways to affirm and connect without triggering PDA pushbackConnection Bank Tracker – a simple way to notice “deposits” and “withdrawals” in your relationshipRSD Moment Toolkit – quick-access scripts, self-compassion prompts, and a personal plan templateReflection Worksheet: When RSD Shows Up in My Parenting – gentle prompts to help you notice patterns and respond differentlyFull video transcripts for every lessonClosed captions for accessibilityWhy This MattersRSD can be exhausting and heartbreaking for children and parents alike. It can drive meltdowns, avoidance, people-pleasing, perfectionism, and deep shame. Without understanding what’s really going on, it’s easy to misread these behaviours as “bad” or “manipulative” when they’re actually nervous system protection strategies.
This course gives you the insight, tools, and compassion to respond in ways that build trust, safety, and self-worth.
A Gentle, Doable FormatSix short videos (10 minutes or less)Watch anytime, at your own paceNo overwhelm—just practical strategies you can try straight awayReady to Feel More Equipped and Less Alone?This isn’t about “fixing” your child—it’s about understanding them deeply, supporting them effectively, and showing up for yourself with the same compassion.
If you’re ready for less shame and more connection in your home, this course is your starting point.
👉 Join the course now and start supporting RSD with empathy, confidence, and connection.The post Understanding Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD) appeared first on Tanya Valentin.
August 13, 2025
Navigating Emotions & Responding to Meltdowns and Shutdowns
You’re not doing it wrong.
If you’re walking on eggshells, bracing for the next meltdown, or feeling helpless in the face of your child’s shutdowns—you’re not alone.
You’re not broken. Your child isn’t either.
In this short, deeply supportive course, you’ll learn how to understand what’s really going on beneath the surface—and how to meet your child with calm, confidence, and connection (even when it’s hard).
If you’ve ever thought:
“I don’t know what to do when my child explodes or shuts down…”“I feel so triggered when they get angry or collapse…”“I’m tired of advice that doesn’t work for my neurodivergent child…”You’re in the right place.
This course is here to give you tools—but also permission to stop fixing and start connecting.What You’ll Learn:
✅ The Meltdown & Shutdown Cycle
Understand the real causes of dysregulation (it’s not just sensory—it’s also demands, trauma, and unmet needs).
✅ How to Recognise the Early Signs
Spot the “rumble stage” before the meltdown hits—and respond with attuned, supportive care.
✅ What To Do (and NOT Do) During a Meltdown
How to be your child’s anchor—not their rescuer, fixer, or judge.
✅ What Shutdowns Look Like & How to Support Them
Why shutdowns often go unnoticed—and how to gently support your child’s retreat and recovery.
✅ Practical De-Escalation Strategies
From sensory tools to body language and co-regulation tips that work.
✅ Recovery & Repair
Learn what helps after the storm. Rebuild trust, connection, and safety without shame.
✅ The Parent Piece
Your nervous system matters too. Learn how to stay grounded, avoid emotional spillover, and support yourself as the co-regulator.
No fluff. No pressure. Just what you need to feel more resourced and less alone.
Who This Is For:This course is designed for you if:
Your child is Autistic, ADHD, PDA, or otherwise neurodivergentMeltdowns and shutdowns are part of your life (and you feel lost or overwhelmed)You want practical tools AND emotional supportYou’re done with punishment, shame, or sticker-chart parentingYou’re ready to lead with compassion—even if it’s messyBy the end of this course, you’ll have:A clearer understanding of what’s happening in your child’s brain and bodyTools to de-escalate without panic or punishmentMore confidence in yourself as a calm, connected parentA deeper sense of compassion—for your child and yourselfEven when meltdowns still happen (because they will), you’ll know what to do—and how to ride the waves with more steadiness.
Join the Course Now for Only $33A calmer, more connected path is possible. Let’s begin.
The post Navigating Emotions & Responding to Meltdowns and Shutdowns appeared first on Tanya Valentin.
Navigating Emotions & Responding to Meltdowns
You’re not doing it wrong.
If you’re walking on eggshells, bracing for the next meltdown, or feeling helpless in the face of your child’s shutdowns—you’re not alone.
You’re not broken. Your child isn’t either.
In this short, deeply supportive course, you’ll learn how to understand what’s really going on beneath the surface—and how to meet your child with calm, confidence, and connection (even when it’s hard).
If you’ve ever thought:
“I don’t know what to do when my child explodes or shuts down…”“I feel so triggered when they get angry or collapse…”“I’m tired of advice that doesn’t work for my neurodivergent child…”You’re in the right place.
This course is here to give you tools—but also permission to stop fixing and start connecting.What You’ll Learn:
✅ The Meltdown & Shutdown Cycle
Understand the real causes of dysregulation (it’s not just sensory—it’s also demands, trauma, and unmet needs).
✅ How to Recognise the Early Signs
Spot the “rumble stage” before the meltdown hits—and respond with attuned, supportive care.
✅ What To Do (and NOT Do) During a Meltdown
How to be your child’s anchor—not their rescuer, fixer, or judge.
✅ What Shutdowns Look Like & How to Support Them
Why shutdowns often go unnoticed—and how to gently support your child’s retreat and recovery.
✅ Practical De-Escalation Strategies
From sensory tools to body language and co-regulation tips that work.
✅ Recovery & Repair
Learn what helps after the storm. Rebuild trust, connection, and safety without shame.
✅ The Parent Piece
Your nervous system matters too. Learn how to stay grounded, avoid emotional spillover, and support yourself as the co-regulator.
No fluff. No pressure. Just what you need to feel more resourced and less alone.
Who This Is For:This course is designed for you if:
Your child is Autistic, ADHD, PDA, or otherwise neurodivergentMeltdowns and shutdowns are part of your life (and you feel lost or overwhelmed)You want practical tools AND emotional supportYou’re done with punishment, shame, or sticker-chart parentingYou’re ready to lead with compassion—even if it’s messyBy the end of this course, you’ll have:A clearer understanding of what’s happening in your child’s brain and bodyTools to de-escalate without panic or punishmentMore confidence in yourself as a calm, connected parentA deeper sense of compassion—for your child and yourselfEven when meltdowns still happen (because they will), you’ll know what to do—and how to ride the waves with more steadiness.
Join the Course Now for Only $33A calmer, more connected path is possible. Let’s begin.
The post Navigating Emotions & Responding to Meltdowns appeared first on Tanya Valentin.
FREE Mini-Course: Burnout 101: Understanding and Recognising Neurodivergent Burnout
This FREE short, parent-friendly mini-course helps you understand what neurodivergent burnout is so that you can see your child with compassion instead of confusion.
What You’ll Learn:
What burnout really is (and isn’t)Why it happens (without blame)The stages of burnoutHow to recognise signs in your childFirst steps toward gentle recoveryPerfect for:
Parents who feel stuck or judgedFamilies new to burnout recoveryShort, self-paced lessonsDownloadable handouts & promptsNo pressure, no fluff, no fixing—just clarity and next steps Start Burnout 101 for FREEThe post FREE Mini-Course: Burnout 101: Understanding and Recognising Neurodivergent Burnout appeared first on Tanya Valentin.
July 10, 2025
Belonging, Grief, and the Messy Truth of Parenting
Many of us seek safety and comfort in the realm of awareness.
We want to name the problem, imagine solutions, and feel some sense of control.
But the work of parenting, especially parenting through things like burnout, neurodivergence, and family crisis, has taught me that awareness alone isn’t enough.
Because real change, real peace, asks us to enter a much darker, murkier place: acceptance.
Acceptance isn’t neat or tidy. It lives in the territory of grief, and allowing ourselves to enter into the quagmire of grief can feel so intense, so all-consuming, so out of control that it can be easier to stick to the domain of the diagnosis and fixing.
The Unexpected Ways Grief Shows Up in ParentingPeople often imagine it’s the big, dramatic moments that stir our deepest grief as parents, the diagnoses, the moves, the heartbreaks.
And sometimes it is.
But in my experience, it’s so often the smallest things that become unexpected portals, little cracks in the dam walls we have built to contain all our deepest fears, shame and vulnerabilities.
Tiny remnants of another life—another you—a different version of your family, catching you off guard.
I once found a small ladybug hairclip buried at the bottom of a bag while cleaning out my closet.
The kind made for a toddler’s soft, wispy fringe.
I used to gently fasten it in my youngest’s hair, over and over, a tiny ritual of love.
I had forgotten it entirely.
But there it was in my palm. Waiting.
And as I held it, tears came.
Quiet. Relentless.
A river I didn’t know I’d dammed.
These moments remind us of the parent we thought we’d be.
Of the dreams we held for our children.
Of the painful, sacred space between those dreams and the life we’re actually living.
Of all the gates through which we enter grief, the one marked “Parent” carries an overflow of emotions for which we often have no words.
We fear that if we open the door to acceptance, we’ll unleash everything we worked so hard to bury.
But there is no bypass.
There is only through.
Perhaps it feels so heavy because we love so fiercely. As Carly Simon sings in Coming Around Again, “there’s more room in a broken heart.”
But that same gate is also one of growth and alchemy.
Parenting is a lifelong apprenticeship with grief. A sacred practice in fierce love, and the slow, continual art of letting go—first of our own bodies as we grow them beneath our hearts, then into the world as we birth them, and finally into themselves as they grow and claim their rightful autonomy.
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
Kahlil Gibran
Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.comWhen Burnout Becomes an AwakeningWhen my own child went into burnout, it wasn’t the glossy, spiritual “awakening” our culture loves to romanticise.
It was an unglamorous unravelling.
A raw reckoning with truths I had long buried.
It connected me to something older, something ancestral.
I saw the cycles of pain that had moved through my family for generations, and how I was passing them on to my children.
I met what Francis Weller calls the second gate of grief: all the places I had not received love.
My nervous system had learned to fawn, mask, and avoid conflict.
I traded my wholeness for safety.
And that’s what I taught my children, too: Don’t be too much. Don’t need too loudly…
“I had to learn that little girls don’t hunger… Enough rules will keep us safe from ourselves.”
Glennon Doyle – Love Warrior
When my daughter went into burnout, her body did the only thing it knew to do: protest. Her burnout became a mirror, reflecting back to me the cost of silence and the legacy of shame we had both inherited.
That experience forced me to confront my own shame and re-examine the rules I had been living by—the unspoken agreements I had unknowingly accepted as a contract with life.
Her body’s response wasn’t a flaw. It was information.
Shame was pointing me toward the parts of myself that needed witnessing. I began to see shame everywhere: in myself, in my parenting, in the subtle ways we use it to control, to teach, to keep order.
And from that truth, a different kind of parent began to emerge.
Stronger. Softer.
More curious. More courageous.
I think back to my childhood, when I learned to trade authenticity for acceptance. I always felt different, even before I had words for it.
No matter how hard I tried, I didn’t quite fit.
I became the kid who helped the teacher at lunch instead of risking rejection.
The girl who led everything so she could feel in control.
But the longing to belong didn’t go away. It just went underground.
When I became a mum, the same patterns replayed.
Coffee groups. School gates. Parent associations.
Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.comTiny moments that wouldn’t look like much to others felt like confirmation to my primed nervous system:
You don’t belong here either.
So I kept my heart hidden while aching to be seen.
I know I’m not alone in that.
Especially among neurodivergent folks who have masked for decades.
If that’s you, please know:
You’re not broken for feeling that tension.
You are remembering.
You are protecting something vulnerable inside you.
You don’t have to earn community through performance.
You don’t have to mask your way into safety.
You don’t have to be healed to belong.
Belonging isn’t a prize. It’s a birthright.
Grief Doesn’t Disconnect Us, Shame DoesWe live in a culture that says parents should be vulnerable, but only in tidy ways. We’re allowed to admit stress, but not rage.
Not grief.
I grew up being taught to move quickly to positivity.
To smile. To pretend.
To bury sadness, disappointment, frustration, and anger.
So when my children expressed big, hard feelings, I didn’t know how to hold space for them.
I didn’t have a safe space inside myself for those emotions.
When my daughter went into burnout, all the emotions I’d been avoiding crashed over me like a tidal wave.
I had no tools.
No map.
No language.
No rituals for moving through it.
But I learned to sit with it.
To make those monsters my companions.
Photo by Antoni Shkraba Studio on Pexels.comThe Cost of Unprocessed Grief in ParentingWe make grief a villain in our modern culture, or at best an uncomfortable truth; however, unprocessed grief creates distance. It breeds resentment.
It builds walls between us and our children, our partners, our communities.
Anywhere we can’t bring our whole self is a place where only half of us is feeling.
Even in spaces that champion unmasking and authenticity, parents are still often asked to wear a mask.
Smile and say, “It’s hard, but I’m grateful.”
But I’m here to say: grief belongs.
Your full experience belongs.
You are allowed to bring all of you.
Healing doesn’t happen in halfness. Integrity means being whole.
We cannot offer our children compassion, safety, belonging, and truth unless we first offer it to ourselves.
That means tending to the child within us. Not because it was our fault we didn’t get what we needed, but because it’s now our sacred responsibility to break the cycle.
In every parenting moment, we face a choice: we can let shame take the wheel, or we can pause and choose compassion.
Self-compassion isn’t just soft. It’s regulating.
It’s how we send safety to our own nervous systems.
A regulated parent becomes a regulating presence for our children.
One healing breath.
One tender repair.
One courageous truth at a time.
Photo by Tara Winstead on Pexels.comMany of us carry the deep sorrow of not being believed, of not receiving the support we so desperately needed, of waiting for a community that never arrived. As humans, our longing for connection is a sacred soul yearning. We are hungry for belonging and yet terrified of rejection, both at once.
I’m building the kind of space where you can show up scared, quiet, unsure, and still be welcome. That’s what From Burnout to Balance is all about: creating safe spaces where parents can bring their whole selves.
It is my heart’s deepest longing to hold space for others in their darkest hours, because I have learned to hold space for myself in mine.
Because we’ve gone too long without places to rest and be real.
You don’t have to do it alone.
You’re allowed to belong.
Even now.
Especially now.
What about you?
What has your experience of grief been like as a parent?
What were you taught about it?
I’d love to hear your story in the comments below.
The post Belonging, Grief, and the Messy Truth of Parenting appeared first on Tanya Valentin.
June 12, 2025
“I Just Want My Child To Be Happy…”
When I was a young parent, I came across a Facebook meme that said:
“My goal in life is to give my children a childhood they don’t have to heal from.”
Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com
I remember reading it late at night, peering down at my sleeping baby and toddler. I made a quiet promise to them right then: This will be our family’s story.
But I had no idea what I was really promising.
What I didn’t know at the time was that I, my husband, and our children were all undiagnosed autistic and ADHD. And while neurodivergence itself is not suffering, the world we live in often makes it very hard to move through life without collecting a legacy of trauma, especially when your needs, ways of being, and rhythms don’t match the systems around you.
Now, in my work with neurodivergent families, particularly those navigating burnout, I hear a similar heartfelt hope echoed again and again:
“I just want my child to be happy.”
And while that longing comes from deep, unconditional love…
It’s a wish that, when left unexamined, can quietly become a trap for both parent and child.
Because when ‘happiness’ becomes the goal, every other emotion begins to feel like failure.
The Cultural ‘Script’ of “Just Be Happy”Happiness is not a place, it is not a magical destination to which we can arrive, pitch a tent, unpack our bags and stay.
It’s not a state we can guarantee for our children, no matter how deeply we love them.
And yet, many of us, especially those of us who grew up as Gen Xers or older Millennials, were steeped in a cultural script that told us otherwise.
We were raised in families and societies that quietly, and sometimes explicitly, taught us:
“The goal is to be happy.”
“Be grateful, it could be worse.”
“Don’t cry, you’re fine.”
“Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about”
We learned early that certain emotions were acceptable, cheerfulness, politeness, obedience, gratitude, while others were inconvenient, shameful, or dangerous. Sadness was often met with distraction. Anger was punished. Disappointment was bypassed with a quick fix or a forced reframing: “At least you have food on the table, there are children in… who have it way worse than you.”
More times than not, this wasn’t malicious. It was often the opposite.
We were raised by parents and grandparents who had lived through the Great Depression, world wars, economic uncertainty, and social upheaval. These generations were taught stoicism not as a character trait, but as a survival strategy. Feelings weren’t just uncomfortable, they were unsafe.
So, ‘good parenting’ became synonymous with protecting children from discomfort.
And eventually, a new mantra emerged:
The Cost of Raising ‘Happy Children’ as a Hallmark of ‘Good Parenting’
“Good parents raise happy children.”
On the surface, the goal to raise ‘happy children’ sounds beautiful, loving, even noble. But underneath, it carries a quiet pressure.
It carries the beliefs:
That happiness is the measure of our success as parentsIf our child is upset, we must be doing something wrongIf they struggle, we must have failed to protect themThese beliefs, shaped by intergenerational trauma and inherited emotional illiteracy, turns very human, very necessary emotions like grief, anger, frustration, and sadness into threats instead of invitations for connection.
As psychologist Susan David says:
“Discomfort is the price of admission to a meaningful life.”
When we aim for constant happiness, we bypass the deeper emotional terrain where resilience, authenticity, and intimacy are built. And worse, we unknowingly pass on the message to our children that hard feelings are problems to be solved, or worse, signs of failure.
The Nervous System Toll of Always Needing to ‘Be Happy’The other day, a parent in one of my sessions shared something so familiar, I felt it in my bones.
She said, “My child started crying over something small—I don’t even remember what it was, and suddenly I could feel myself spiralling. My heart was racing, my chest tightened, and I just… snapped. I told her to calm down, that it wasn’t a big deal. But the truth is, I wasn’t talking to her. I was trying to calm myself.”
This is what no one tells you about parenting:
It’s not just about behaviour management, it’s about nervous system management.
A family isn’t just a group of individuals. It’s a living, breathing nervous system ecosystem.
Each person’s internal state, anxiety, calm, fear, joy, affects the others, like emotional weather moving through the house.
Let’s look at how this plays out in real time:“In families, regulation (or dysregulation) is viral.”
—Psychology Today
Your child has a big feeling, maybe they’re overwhelmed, angry, or inconsolable with sadness.
You want to stay calm, but something in you reacts. Maybe your breath shortens. Your muscles tense. A quiet panic rises: “I don’t know how to fix this.”
Your brain starts searching for safety. Old scripts kick in:
“Just stop crying.”
“You’re fine.”
“Look on the bright side.”
And underneath it all? A deeper belief many of us were raised with:
“Good parents raise happy kids.”
When your child isn’t happy, it feels like you’ve failed. That belief doesn’t live in your logic; it lives in your body.
So what happens next?
You try to “make it better,” but really, your nervous system is dysregulated.
And now your child, who already feels vulnerable, senses that you are unsafe, unavailable, or overwhelmed.
They escalate.
You shut down.
Or maybe you both do.
The moment ends not with comfort or connection, but with emotional distance.
And often, without even realising it, we close the loop with toxic positivity:
“Cheer up.”
“Be happy.”
“Let’s not make this a big deal.”
It’s meant to help. But it sends a quiet message: “These feelings are too much. Even for me.”
Photo by Monstera on Pexels.comGrieving The Loss of the ‘Happy Childhood’Grief isn’t only about death.
It arises whenever reality doesn’t match our hopes.
We are living in the ashes of the parenting journey we expected. We grieve the ‘easy childhood’ we dreamed of for our kids.
We mourn the parent we thought we’d be, the one with endless patience, gentle mornings, and tidy answers, who can make everything ‘better’.
There is deep sorrow in releasing the fantasy that if we just tried hard enough, loved fiercely enough, or got the parenting ‘right’, we could protect our children, and ourselves, from struggle.
And yet, we live in a culture that romanticises the impossible:The blissful newborn phaseThe perfectly curated childhoodThe harmonious, smiling nuclear familyThe Sweet Valley High version of adolescence—full of light drama, but no real painThese ideals aren’t just unrealistic, they’re emotionally dangerous. They leave no room for grief. No space for imperfection, complexity, or nuance. And when our real lives don’t match the fantasy, we often turn the pain inward.
We don’t just grieve.
We blame ourselves for grieving.
“Grief and love are sisters, woven together from the beginning. Their kinship reminds us that there is no love that does not contain loss and no loss that is not a reminder of the love we carry for what we once held close.”
― Francis Weller, The Wild Edge of Sorrow: Rituals of Renewal and the Sacred Work of Grief
Grief is a natural part of parenting, and it’s everywhere.
It lives in every moment we let go of a dream, a phase, or a version of our child or ourselves, we once held tightly.
But we live in a society that makes very little room for grief.
Instead of honouring the hard, messy, emotionally complex journey that comes with deep love and inevitable loss, grief is often turned into something shameful.
When no one names it…
When we’re given no map, no tools, and no safe place to feel it…
Grief becomes something we hide.
It becomes our quiet secret, something we carry deeply but never speak aloud.
Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.comAnd in that silence, a dangerous story takes root:“If I’m grieving, I must not be grateful.”
“If I’m not happy, maybe I don’t love my child enough.”
“I shouldn’t feel this way.”
“I must be a bad parent.”
This is the cost of grief illiteracy.
When we’re not allowed to acknowledge the magnitude of our love and our loss, we can’t process it.
And when we can’t process it, we can’t hold it for ourselves or our children.
Their sadness becomes unbearable.
Their meltdowns feel like evidence of our failure.
Their tears mirror the unspoken ache we’ve never had permission to express.
So we shut down.
We bypass.
We push toxic positivity.
We become fragile in the face of our children’s emotions, avoidant of the very connection we long for.
Not because we don’t love them,
But because we were never taught how to hold love and grief in the same being.
Parenting through burnout can feel like walking a tightrope while carrying the weight of both your child’s pain and your own.
Every meltdown becomes a moment of panic.
Every shutdown stirs helplessness.
The harder it gets, the more urgent it feels to fix it.
Your child is grieving, too.
They may not have the words, but their bodies tell the truth.
Through meltdowns.
Through withdrawal.
Through exhaustion and explosive frustration.
They’re grieving the social connections they can’t sustain.
The overwhelm of a dysregulated body.
The fear that they’re simply too much.
And when their grief collides with your shame, the cycle begins:
They express.
You react.
Both of you retreat, misunderstood and disconnected.
But this cycle isn’t the end.
It’s the beginning of a different kind of healing.
Burnout recovery is not just about slowing down or doing less.
It’s about making space for grief.
It’s about staying with what hurts, so our children can learn to do the same.
When we begin to see grief not as a failure, but as a reflection of love, we create space for repair, co-regulation, and connection.
We send a new message:
“You are not too much.”
“I’m not afraid of your sadness.”
“We can hold this together.”
And in doing so, we begin to rebuild trust, not just in our children, but in ourselves.
Photo by MART PRODUCTION on Pexels.comBecause grief is not the problem.
Shame is.
When grief is welcomed, witnessed, and held, it becomes a bridge.
But when it is silenced through distraction, punishment, or the quiet fear that “I shouldn’t feel this”, it becomes shame. And shame always disconnects.
Disconnected children withdraw from their bodies, their voices, and the people they need most.
Disconnected parents feel reactive, ashamed, and powerless.
This isn’t just a personal pattern.
It’s a generational one.
We inherited it.
And now, we have the chance to interrupt it.
It is the sacred work of relearning how to feel without fear.
Of grieving what was lost or never received.
Of coming home to ourselves, so we can show up differently for our children.
And when we do, when we allow our own grief to rise without shame, something begins to shift:
TrustEmotional safetyThe felt sense of “We can do hard things together.”The path back to connection isn’t about removing struggle.
It’s about learning how to be with it, side by side.
Grief is not a failure of parenting.
It is the evidence of love.
And when we meet it gently, it becomes the doorway to wholeness.
Come Be Held Inside From Burnout to BalanceIf this spoke to some gentle inner truth in you.
If you’re carrying unspoken grief or shame, parenting through burnout, or feeling disconnected from yourself or your child, you’re not alone. Deep healing is possible when we heal in community, the type of community where we can show up authentically and share our story without fear of rejection.
“Shame derives its power from being unspeakable. That’s why it loves perfectionists—it’s so easy to keep us quiet. If we cultivate enough awareness about shame to name it and speak to it, we’ve basically cut it off at the knees. Shame hates having words wrapped around it. If we speak shame, it begins to wither. Just the way exposure to light was deadly for the gremlins, language and story bring light to shame and destroy it.”
Brene Brown
From Burnout to Balance is a soft landing place for parents of neurodivergent children and teens in burnout.
It’s not another thing to keep up with.
It’s a community built around slowing down, feeling deeply, and reconnecting with what matters most.
Inside, you’ll find:
Nervous system honouring practicesSoulful coaching and gentle guidanceReal conversations about grief, shame, and self-trustPractical tools for low-demand parenting and emotional repairA space where you don’t have to mask or pretendThis isn’t about fixing your child.
It’s about supporting you, so you can feel less alone, more grounded, and more at home in your own story.
We’re not here to chase perfection.
We’re here to practice presence.
✨ You don’t have to do this alone.
Come be held.
Come be witnessed.
Come as you are.
The Person Who Wrote This BlogHi, I’m Tanya Valentin, an AuDHD parent, family coach, author, and podcaster. I guide parents of Autistic and ADHD kids through burnout recovery using a neuro-affirming, trauma-informed approach.
As a parent of three autistic teens, I know firsthand how isolating and exhausting this journey can be. That’s why I created From Burnout to Balance, a space where parents can find real, practical answers to help their child recover from burnout and a supportive community, so no parent has to navigate it alone.
The post “I Just Want My Child To Be Happy…” appeared first on Tanya Valentin.
June 5, 2025
The 7 Pillars of Parenting Through Autistic Burnout: Lessons from Our Recovery Journey
There was a moment, and maybe you’ve had one like this, where everything in me said, “I can’t keep doing this.“
My child was in deep burnout.
I was in burnout.
And nothing I tried was working anymore.
The strategies that were meant to help only seemed to make things worse. Rules, limits, “Positive” reinforcement. All the tools that had once been handed to me, or maybe even forced into my hands, suddenly felt like pressure, like noise.
My child was shutting down. I was breaking down.
So I stopped.
I stopped pushing.
I stopped fixing.
I stopped trying to be the parent I thought I was supposed to be.
And in that quiet, the space after letting go, something else started to emerge.
Slowly.
Tenderly.
Often through grief, sometimes through grace.
Over time, seven clear lessons took shape. Seven truths that would become the foundation for how I live, parent, and support other families today.
I now call them The Seven Pillars of my work, and they are the heart of everything I do inside my work, especially in my membership, From Burnout to Balance. But more than that, they are a map I want to share with you, because I believe they can hold your story, too.
Pillar One: Nervous System SafetyNothing changes without safety.
This was the first and most foundational shift. I had to stop focusing on behaviour and start looking underneath, at what was going on in the nervous system.
My child didn’t need more structure or stricter boundaries. They needed co-regulation, softness and space to feel safe in their body and in our connection. And because a family is a nervous system ecosystem, I had to learn to regulate myself before I could offer that to them.
I also discovered through my own nervous system work that I could only shift my parenting approach to the level that my nervous system felt safe with. Finding ways to support my nervous system became a priority. This ‘ahha’ moment allowed me to have compassion for myself when I made mistakes and found change hard.
Pillar Two: Low-Demand ParentingWe didn’t heal by pushing through.
Pushing through is what got us into burnout in the first place.
We healed when we stopped asking so much of ourselves, when we dropped expectations that no longer served us.
Low-demand parenting isn’t about “giving up”; it’s about intentionally choosing rest, honouring capacity, and creating space for nervous system recovery. For us, it was the difference between surviving and starting to breathe again.
Pillar Three: Community-Centred SupportWhen my daughter went into burnout, our whole world shrank – I felt so alone.
And I know I’m not the only one.
Burnout can be so isolating, especially when others don’t understand or try to minimise what you’re going through. We as parents undergo a deep transformation in this process alongside our children that can leave us feeling vulnerable and even alien in our friendship and family circles.
It was so hard to feel confident and to sustain the gains we were making at home due to my new approach to parenting, because it honestly felt like it was me against the world at times.
What changed everything was finding a space where I didn’t have to explain or justify. Where I could be witnessed. Seen. Held. That’s the kind of community I now build for other parents, because we were never meant to do this alone.
Pillar Four: Reparenting (Parent Identity)Einstein said,
You cannot solve a problem with the same mind that created it.
Through this parenting journey, I realised I couldn’t parent my child differently until I began healing myself.
I had to reparent the parts of me that had learned to shame myself for being “too much” or “too sensitive.”
I had to make peace with the version of myself that didn’t know what she didn’t know.
This work is tender, but it’s powerful. And it’s ongoing. Every time I extend compassion to myself, I create more space to show up with love and presence for my child.
Pillar Five: Practical Neuro-Affirming ResourcesMost parenting advice doesn’t fit us.
It either ignores neurodivergence entirely or offers tools that feel shaming and unrealistic.
What I needed at the time was real-world, neuro-affirming tools, not quick fixes, but sustainable strategies rooted in understanding, validation, and respect.
That’s what I now create and share, because every family deserves support that actually fits.
Pillar Six: Repair and ReconnectionIn parenting, perfection is never the goal.
I like most parents have made mistakes. I still do.
Photo by Deepak Bhandari on Pexels.comWhat I have learned is that rupture is not failure, it’s an invitation to repair. Every time I come back with honesty, humility, and love, I show my child that relationships can be safe even when things are messy.
That’s powerful medicine for both of us.
Pillar Seven: The Soul LayerThere is something deeper beneath it all.
I don’t always have the language for it, but I feel it in every moment of grief, every breakthrough, every whisper of truth that rises when I slow down, I feel a reconnection to myself and the deeper meaning of things.
Parenting through burnout cracked me open in a way that no other experience in my life ever has, and somehow, in the mess, something sacred took root. This isn’t just about parenting. It’s about healing. About coming home to ourselves.
It’s about love.
Francis Weller talks about this in his book, The Wild Edge of Sorrow: Rituals of Renewal and the Sacred Work of Grief
“At times, grief invites us into a terrain that reduces us to our most naked self. We find it hard to meet the day, to accomplish the smallest of tasks, to tolerate the greetings of others. We feel estranged from the world and only marginally able to navigate the necessities of eating, sleeping, and self-care. Some other presence takes over in times of intense grief, and we are humbled, brought to our knees. We live close to the ground, the gravity of sorrow felt deep in our bones.”
These seven lessons changed everything for me, my family and the way that we show up for each other.
They didn’t come from a textbook. They came from real life, from trial and error, from falling down and getting back up, from listening deeply and choosing again and again to lead with love.
If you’re somewhere in the middle of it, the grief, the overwhelm, the fear that maybe you’re not doing enough, I want you to know:
You’re not alone.
You’re not broken.
And you’re already doing more than you think.
These pillars are the heart of my membership From Burnout to Balance, a soft place to land, designed for parents just like you. If you’re ready for support that’s affirming, gentle, and grounded in lived experience, I’d love to welcome you inside.
Until then, keep going.
Keep softening.
Keep holding space for the parent you are becoming.
With you, always.
Tanya 💛
Hi, I’m Tanya Valentin, an AuDHD parent, family coach, author, and podcaster. I guide parents of Autistic and ADHD kids through burnout recovery using a neuro-affirming, trauma-informed approach.
As a parent of three autistic teens, I know firsthand how isolating and exhausting this journey can be. That’s why I created From Burnout to Balance, a space where parents can find real, practical answers to help their child recover from burnout and a supportive community, so no parent has to navigate it alone.
The post The 7 Pillars of Parenting Through Autistic Burnout: Lessons from Our Recovery Journey appeared first on Tanya Valentin.
May 20, 2025
Parenting Through Burnout: The Spiritual Awakening No One Talks About
“The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.”
— Joseph CampbellPhoto by Tsvetoslav Hristov on Pexels.com
This quote found me during a season of parenting when everything felt like it was falling apart.
When the child I once knew seemed to vanish.
When meltdowns, shutdowns, emergency room visits, hospital stays, and struggling to keep a teen alive who didn’t want to be here, and complete withdrawal became the norm.
This was a time when connection with my child felt out of reach, and with the constant buzz of survival, the ever-present current of my life.
I felt left holding all the pieces. Frantically juggling, trying to hold it all together.
Holding on…Holding on…
“Will we ever survive this?” I wondered while losing myself in the process.
This is burnout.
And if your child is experiencing autistic burnout, you may be too.
It’s disorienting, frightening, and isolating.
And it was the beginning of a painful but profound spiritual awakening for me.
Not the kind painted in pastel colours and mantras.
But the kind that begins in the dark night of the soul.
The kind that rips you apart and starts with surrender. Not out of choice, but because there is nothing left to do.
There’s a quote I come back to often:
“No mud, no lotus.”
Photo by Annie Chen on Pexels.comThe mud is the mess. The grief. The anger.
The parts of parenting no one warned you about.
The thoughts that wake you up at 3 am and refuse to leave the recesses of your mind.
You might be feeling deep compassion for your child — but also guilt, rage, resentment, despair, or a longing to escape.
As you live with the emotional impact of child burnout, you may be asking yourself,
“Who am I if I can’t fix this?”
“Will things ever get better, and what happens if it doesn’t?”
“Am I allowed to grieve what I thought this would be, and do these feelings make me a bad parent?”
These questions don’t mark your failure —
They mark your initiation.
What happens to a caterpillar inside the cocoon isn’t a gentle rearranging.
It dissolves. It becomes goo.
Many parents (myself included) describe this time as a complete loss of identity.
Photo by Shyamli Kashyap on Pexels.comThe world shrinks around you.
Old parenting strategies no longer work.
Societal expectations feel crushing.
Your nervous system is maxed out.
You’re surviving — barely.
And still…
Somewhere underneath all the breakdown,
a new way of being begins to stir.
Not because you’re choosing to “grow.”
But because you have to become someone new
in order to survive this —
and to walk alongside your child with love, presence, and truth.
Connection to those outside of you falls away, and the only thing left to cling to is the connection to self.
The Cave You Fear to Enter Holds the Treasure You SeekThe world doesn’t always see this.
You may not even see it yet. We have not been taught that parenting can be a portal for spiritual awakening.
But this breakdown holds treasure —
if you’re willing to stay.
Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.comTo be with the fear,
the grief,
the silence,
the slowing down.
This is the cave you didn’t want to enter.
And inside it lives something more essential than advice or strategies:
Your soul.
Your intuition.
Your truth.
Your capacity to be with what is, without rushing toward quick fixes or “better.”
This is a spiritual awakening.
Not out of ease — but out of the fire.
In my book, When She Wakes, She Will Move Mountains (which I wrote while I experienced my own awakening), I recounted:
Why Spiritual Health is Good For Mental HealthBy nature, caves are dark, sometimes tight, scary, and uncomfortable. Our caves are often silent, and still, and, more often than not, we are alone. The cave needs to be dark and narrow so it can limit the amount of outside stimulus we have so we can focus better on our interior light, and the journey within. The cave needs to be silent so that we can locate and listen to the gentle hum of our inner life source.
Soul care isn’t just poetic — it’s powerful.
Dr. Lisa Miller, a clinical psychologist and researcher, found that a nurtured spiritual life (not religious obligation, but an inner felt sense of connection) reduces the risk of depression by up to 80% in young people — and protects against trauma in adults.
Her research shows that spiritual awareness lights up the same areas of the brain as deep empathy, intuition, and meaning-making.
And when we are parenting in a storm, we need more than coping strategies.
We need meaning.
We need connection.
We need to feel held by something larger than ourselves.
If you’re in this space — the dark, the goo, the cave —
I want you to know:
There is nothing wrong with you.
You are not weak.
You are not failing.
You are in the process of unbecoming so that something softer, truer, and more sustainable can emerge.
You will emerge, marked by this experience, forever changed.
Just as I was marked, by the tattoos I chose to have emprinted on my skin (one of them the quote I started this blog with), but with marks so deep that they are visible to no one except me.
You Don’t Have to Do This Alone
That’s why I created Held — a soul circle for parents of children in burnout.It’s not a place for quick fixes.
It’s a space for slowing down, being witnessed, and reclaiming your soul in the midst of it all.
Because sometimes, the most sacred thing we can do is not “fix” our way out of the dark —
but stay in it long enough for the light to return from within.
You are being reshaped — not ruined.
And one day, when the light returns (as it always does), you may look back on this time not just as the hardest season…
…but as the season that brought you home to yourself.
Ready to be held in the cave?
Click here to join Held — the soul circle for burnout parents.
You don’t have to do this alone.
Dr. Lisa Miller, The Awakened Brain (2021)
Columbia University’s Spirituality Mind Body Institute
Research: Spirituality protective against depression (Miller et al., 2012, JAMA Psychiatry)
The Person Who Wrote This BlogHi, I’m Tanya Valentin, an AuDHD parent, family coach, author, and podcaster. I guide parents of Autistic and ADHD kids through burnout recovery using a neuro-affirming, trauma-informed approach.
As a parent of three autistic teens, I know firsthand how isolating and exhausting this journey can be. That’s why I created From Burnout to Balance, a space where parents can find real, practical answers to help their child recover from burnout and a supportive community—so no parent has to navigate it alone.
The post Parenting Through Burnout: The Spiritual Awakening No One Talks About appeared first on Tanya Valentin.
April 15, 2025
Ten Dark Thoughts Many Parents of Neurodivergent Kids in Burnout Have Had At Least Once
In this episode, Tanya discusses the dark thoughts and complex emotions parents face when navigating their child’s burnout.
She addresses feelings of guilt, grief, jealousy, fear, and isolation, emphasising the importance of self-compassion and acceptance.
Tanya provides insights into the healing journey for both parents and children, encouraging listeners to embrace their struggles and seek community support.
Would you like gentle guidance as you navigate this path to deeper acceptance? Subscribe to my email series – The Space Between Knowing and Letting Go
Join From Burnout to Balance with your 7-day free trial
Chapters
00:00 Navigating Parental Guilt and Shame
03:04 Grieving Expectations and Acceptance
05:59 Jealousy and Comparison in Parenting
08:52 Fear of the Future and Identity Loss
11:45 Understanding Recovery and Isolation
15:00 Burnout and Self-Care Strategies
17:49 Embracing Self-Compassion
20:57 Radical Acceptance and Community Support
The post Ten Dark Thoughts Many Parents of Neurodivergent Kids in Burnout Have Had At Least Once appeared first on Tanya Valentin.
