Today, I’d like to talk about something we don’t emphasize enough when raising queer and neurodivergent kids:

Community.

Because so many parents feel like they’re doing this alone.

Alone in school meetings.

Alone in medical appointments.

Alone when relatives don’t get it.

Alone when the internet is loud and unkind.

And if you’re Gen-X like me, you were probably taught that independence meant handling everything yourself.

Don’t ask for help.

Don’t make it a big deal.

Definitely don’t let anyone see you struggle.

But here’s what I’ve learned the hard way:

Isolation doesn’t make families stronger. Connection does.

Community isn’t about having a hundred people who agree with you on everything.

It’s about having a few people who show up consistently.

The friend you can text after a hard day.

The parent who understands the school system.

The coach, teacher, or neighbor who sees your kid clearly.

The online space where you don’t have to explain the basics before being understood.

For queer kids especially, community is protective.

It tells them:

“There are adults who have your back.”

“You’re not the only one like you.”

“You belong somewhere.”

And for parents?

Community means you don’t have to be the expert on everything.

You can ask questions.

Borrow language.

Learn from others’ experiences.

And sometimes just say, “This is hard,” without needing to fix it immediately.

In this space, we talk about building community intentionally, not perfectly.

That might look like:

finding one safe family

joining one supportive group

or creating a tiny circle where your child doesn’t have to mask

You don’t need a village of hundreds.

You just need enough people to remind you that you’re not overreacting or alone, and that your kid deserves support.

Because when systems fail - and let’s face it, sometimes they do - community is what catches the things that fall through the cracks.

That’s all for now. And don’t forget to take good care of yourself today.