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The holiday season is often portrayed as a magical time filled with joy, togetherness, and celebration. But for neurodivergent children, it can be anything but magical. The bright lights, loud music, crowded gatherings, and unpredictable changes in routine create a perfect storm of sensory overload and emotional strain. While the festivities may bring excitement, they can also bring anxiety and exhaustion—both for the child and the family.
In reflecting on my own experiences growing up with undiagnosed ADHD, the holidays presented a unique set of challenges. While others seemed to revel in the hustle and bustle, I often found myself emotionally drained and overwhelmed by the constant stimulation and expectations. Masking my discomfort to meet the social norms of the season left me feeling like an outsider. That internal struggle mirrors what many neurodivergent children experience today.
The holidays are an assault on the senses, even for neurotypical individuals. For neurodivergent children, whose sensory thresholds may already be lower, the experience can be particularly overwhelming. Imagine walking into a room filled with flashing holiday lights, loud music, and a crowd of people talking and laughing over each other. For children with heightened sensitivity to sound or light, this environment can feel chaotic and distressing.
Changes in routine add another layer of difficulty. School breaks, late-night gatherings, and fluctuating schedules disrupt the structure many neurodivergent children rely on to feel grounded. This unpredictability can heighten anxiety, leading to behaviors that may appear oppositional or withdrawn.
What is often misunderstood is that these behaviors are not a refusal to participate in the season’s festivities—they are a sign of overstimulation and a struggle to process the flood of sensory input.
Many neurodivergent children are aware of societal expectations, even if they can’t articulate them. They may notice how others are expected to sit still, smile for photos, or enthusiastically engage in holiday traditions. For children with ADHD or other neurodivergent traits, meeting these expectations can feel impossible, yet they try to mask their discomfort to avoid standing out.
Masking involves suppressing natural responses, like fidgeting, covering ears, or retreating from overwhelming situations. While masking may help a child "fit in" momentarily, it comes at a cost. It depletes emotional reserves, leaving them exhausted and irritable. After hours of masking, children may experience meltdowns or shutdowns—intense emotional responses that are often misunderstood by others as misbehavior.
I recall feeling this deeply during holiday gatherings as a teen. The noise, the pressure to engage socially, and the constant expectation to "look happy" felt suffocating. My energy would drain quickly, and by the end of the day, I would retreat to a quiet room, emotionally spent. These moments of withdrawal weren’t laziness or rudeness—they were necessary for survival.
The emotional toll of holiday overwhelm isn’t limited to sensory overload. Neurodivergent children often grapple with feelings of inadequacy during this season. They may compare themselves to peers who appear to navigate the holiday chaos effortlessly. Internalized messages like "Why can’t I just enjoy this like everyone else?" or "I’m ruining this for my family" can lead to shame and self-doubt.
This struggle is compounded by well-meaning but misplaced efforts to "encourage" participation. Comments like "Just try harder," or "Don’t ruin the fun for everyone else," can inadvertently reinforce a child’s belief that they are the problem.
So, how can families help neurodivergent children navigate the holiday season without losing sight of their unique needs?
The holidays can still be meaningful and joyous for neurodivergent children and their families—it just requires a bit of flexibility and understanding. By recognizing the unique challenges your child faces and responding with empathy, you can create a season that celebrates their individuality and strengths.
Looking back, I wish I had known it was okay to express my discomfort and take breaks when needed. Instead of masking my feelings, I could have enjoyed the holidays in a way that honored my needs. That is my hope for every neurodivergent child today: that they feel seen, understood, and empowered to celebrate the season on their own terms.
With the right support, the holidays don’t have to be overwhelming. They can be a time for connection, growth, and even magic—just as they should be.