Growing Up Neurodiverse in an Immigrant Household
As a child of immigrants, chances are you learned how to adapt very early in life - switching between languages, blending into different cultural worlds, and anticipating what others expect of you. You might have been the translator for your parents, the emotional anchor for your family, or the one who “had to succeed” because of everything your parents sacrificed.
Now imagine layering neurodiversity onto that: Attention-Deficit/HYperactivity Adaptation, Autism, Obsessive-Compulsive Adaptation, or another way your brain uniquely processes the world. For many adult children of immigrants, discovering or embracing neurodiversity comes with a mix of relief, confusion, and guilt. The relief happens because things finally make sense. Confusion comes up because your upbringing might not have had language for what you’re experiencing. And guilt might come up because seeking help, asking for accommodations, or even identifying as neurodiverse can feel like betraying the values you were raised with. But here is the truth: you are not broken, and your needs are not shameful!
In many immigrant households, neurodiversity and mental health are not openly discussed. Instead, there is a deep emphasis on survival and success: working hard, staying strong, and not drawing attention to things that are “shameful” or show the signs of struggle. Success may have also come with the conditions that you get high grades, have a “stable” career, maintain emotional composure, express gratitude, and be “resilient,” or not vulnerable and emotional. Living with neurodiversity can challenge the definition of what success looks like in these symbolic and cultural ways, not to mention make getting practical things done in conventional ways more challenging. Many children of immigrants carry a deep sense of shame for not being able to fit the mold of what was expected of them culturally. They have internalized that something must be wrong with them, rather than embracing that there is no one mold to fit.
When you’ve tried to explain that you have difficulty focusing, or that crowds and loud noises overwhelm you, that you need some more time to process, or that maintaining the same kind of structure others seem to thrive in is a struggle, you may have heard:
“Everyone gets distracted sometimes.”
“You just need to focus and try harder.”
“Don’t pay attention to such things. Be serious and disciplined.”
“You’re overreacting.”
“Your cousin can do this and more! You just need to dedicate yourself.”
“You don’t need therapy! That's for people who can’t handle their problems.”
For immigrant parents, this wasn't a way to dismiss your feelings but rather survival strategies left over from systems where their emotional and mental health needs were punished or used against them. Tending to these parts of them was not something they had access to. Navigating life with neurodiversity can already mean stepping into a system that was not built with your needs in mind. You battle burnout, fatigue, chronic pain, and the feeling you’ll “never get it right”. While the emotional distance helped your ancestor survive, continuing that cycle can cause more pain. But seeking therapy, looking for answers, or setting boundaries isn’t disrespecting the sacrifices of your parents or ancestors; it’s honoring them by building a fuller and more sustainable life for yourself.
Breaking these cycles can often feel wrong, especially when internalized judgment has solidified into thoughts like:
“You’re overreacting.”
“You should be grateful.”
“Other people have it worse.”
Having self-compassion is not weakness. It is liberation. Breaking generations of silence and survival takes immense courage and work. Your healing expands what is possible, not only for your entire family line, but also for the culture as a whole. You are creating a new story where emotional needs and neurological differences are not hidden, but honored and understood. It takes courage to question the narratives you were raised with and acknowledge parts of yourself that have needed support and recognition. Every time you choose self-understanding over criticism, you honor yourself.
As you continue unpacking what it means to grow up neurodiverse in an immigrant household, remember that healing doesn’t have to happen alone or all at once. Start small by building a toolkit that supports your nervous system and nurtures your identity.
This can look like:
Learning the language of your neurodiversity through podcasts, books, or online communities created by neurodiverse people of color.
Connecting with others who share your experience.
Practicing gentle self-advocacy: this can be at work, at home, and within your relationships. These “tiny” boundaries and moments of honesty add up!
Engaging in therapy that understands both your cultural background and your neurodiverse experience, helping you integrate the parts of yourself that have long felt at odds.
You deserve care that sees all of you! the child who learned to adapt, the adult who is learning to rest, and the human who is finally allowing themselves to be understood.
Written by: Jean Donabedian, AMFT, APCC
Jean (he/they) is a queer, 2nd generation Armenian immigrant Registered Associate Marriage and Family Therapist as well as a Registered Associate Professional Clinical Counseling at Noor Therapy and Wellness who helps BIPOC and LGBTQ+ flox navigate grief, relationship issues, family conflict, body image issues, manage trauma, explore neurodiversity, and life changes.
