When We Can’t Tell You What We Need

There are times when I can tell you exactly what I need.

I can tell you the noise is too much, that I need food, that I need twenty minutes without another question. I can tell you I need someone else to handle bedtime, make the next decision, take the kids into another room, or simply sit beside me without trying to fix anything.

And then there are times when I cannot.

Parenting has made this impossible for me to ignore because I see versions of it in my kids too.

A kid can know what loud feels like. They can know they are hungry, that their clothes feel wrong, that the plan changed and they were not ready, or that they have been holding themselves together for too long.

That does not mean those words will still be available when they are overwhelmed.

What we may see instead is crying, running, hiding, repeating the same thing, “I don’t know,” a sudden burst of silliness or impulsivity, or a kid becoming so quiet that everyone assumes they are fine.

Adults are not always that different.

I have a lot of language when I have access to it. I understand regulation and sensory needs. I can recognize patterns in my kids. I can teach them about their brains and bodies. I can write an entire article explaining what support can look like.

And I can still reach a point where someone asks me what I need and I cannot give them an answer.

You may recognize your own version of this.

Maybe you do not lose words. Maybe you can still talk but cannot make one more decision. Maybe you know you need to eat and cannot figure out what food is possible. Maybe you keep moving through everything until the house is finally quiet and only then realize how far past your limit you already were.

Or maybe you are watching this happen in your kid and wondering how they can know a skill so well and still be unable to use it when they need it most.

For a long time, I thought knowing should be enough.

If I understood myself well enough, learned enough tools, and noticed the signs soon enough, then surely I should be able to communicate what I needed before things got that bad.

We have determined that knowing and accessing are not the same thing.

Sometimes asking is the very thing I no longer have access to.

Asking for Help Can Feel Unsafe Before We Are Overwhelmed

There is another piece to this.

We can know what we need and still not ask.

People may stop asking for help after rejection, being misunderstood, being made to feel needy or difficult, help that came with guilt or resentment, or the feeling that accepting support meant owing something back.

After enough of that, carrying too much alone can start to feel safer than asking. Your source bank specifically supports the idea that previous misunderstanding and inaccessible systems can make requesting support harder.

Many of us are taught to value self-sufficiency and to see needing less help as doing better. Depending on other people can be treated as something we should outgrow, even though human beings have never been completely independent.

That can leave a very familiar belief underneath everything:

I should be able to do this myself.

For neurodivergent people, that may sit on top of years of having our needs questioned, minimized, or misunderstood.

So if someone rarely asks for help, that does not mean they rarely need it.

They have learned that asking does not feel safe.

They have learned that carrying too much feels easier than risking rejection, judgment, or disappointment.

And even when asking does feel safe, there are still times when we lose access to the words, decisions, or initiation required to do it.

Continue Growing With Unmasked

If you are a neurodivergent parent trying to explain this to the people who love you—or you love a neurodivergent parent or kid and want to understand what actually helps—the companion resource gives you somewhere to begin.

Paid subscribers receive the When We Can’t Tell You What We Need Support Maps, designed to help kids, teens, neurodivergent parents, partners, caregivers, and families figure out what support looks like before everyone is too overwhelmed to explain it.

Not another behavior chart or another system everyone has to use perfectly.

A place to write down what helps your actual family.

Subscribe to continue reading and choose the Support Map that fits.