Weekly homeschool update paused for reflection…

I’m taking a week off from writing.  

I’ve had much more social interaction over the last week than I’m used to, and it has been wonderfully exhausting. 

Being autistic, it doesn’t matter how much I crave human connection, it will catch up with me if I don’t give myself proper time to rest. It doesn’t matter how pleasant the encounters, I still need ample time to myself to level back out. 

I am writing this, happily tired, honest, and grateful. It’s not a complaint. There’s no negativity. There is truth here that many seem to automatically jump to label as those things I had to make a point to say aren’t present here – and that’s exactly why I’m sharing this. 

This blog is about homeschooling. It’s about our lifestyle. And it’s about how neurodivergence doesn’t just play a role in our lives, it is the core of our existence. I talk about it because it IS who I am. It’s not a chosen identity; it’s inherent. 

Learning how neurodivergence affects my life changed my entire existence. There’s no shame for me in how I naturally operate. I no longer see my needs as “wrong” as I was trained from the beginning. I’m learning how to stand up for myself, where my limits are, and how to be kind to myself. I’m learning how to let things be, how to work with what I have, and how to prioritize my needs and goals. 

I woke up today aware that if I were to sit down and try to write a post about our week in my state of social exhaustion, I’d be putting on a mask to pull it off. It wouldn’t be fake, but it wouldn’t be from the intimate state of expression where writing I value comes from. It wouldn’t be from the flow that I’m effortlessly drawing from to express these thoughts now. 

It feels about like what I did last week, when I was following my routine to get it done and knew I didn’t have a ton of extra intimacy to give away with my words. I don’t think it was a terrible update, but it’s not my standard. 

Anybody can write “5 facts that keep neurodivergents feeling left out and unrepresented”. That’s the norm. I aim to create a space where there’s truth that breeds familiarity, comfort, and belonging. I want to bring our most basic needs to life in a way that removes the ingrained assumptions that everything we do is wrong because we operate differently. I want to share ways that work for us because we are supporting our needs. I want to offer encouragement that inspires hope instead of further longing to find something that feels right. 

I’m taking a break from writing our weekly update so I don’t fall into the trap of going through the motions, reporting on it as if it were someone else’s life when I feel so removed from what has happened even a week ago. The more social interactions I pile up without time between, the more time I’m going to need to process them all. I hesitated to say I’m overwhelmed because I always associated that with panic, by the time I’d admit it to myself. I have more to process than I can keep up with if I keep my current pace. 

I’m sharing this instead because I know it’s relatable. I see homeschool parents express overwhelm often. I see them trying to uphold expectations and figure out how to meet their needs after the fact. I don’t miss trying to operate my life that way. I won’t do it again because I’ve found my freedom. I hope to inspire others to do the same. I’m also never going to stand here in this beautiful space I’ve created for myself and tell you that if you “just” do this thing that it all improves. I will tell you that unlearning and going inward to discover what hurts can set you free. 

I’m writing about not writing because we don’t always have to do it all. Or we can choose to do it in a different way. Expectations are a useful tool for setting goals and preparing for the future. They can become dangerous when we stick to them harder than our own inner guidance. Resistance is a sign for me that I have other needs to prioritize. Awareness helps me determine what I need to take care of. Permission allows me to choose. 

Some of us still struggle with giving ourselves permission because we never realized we could take back our power. I want to raise a child who never has to give his away. He’s free now, not once he’s legally a certain age. (I am not going to preemptively entertain extreme arguments after this statement. If you feel a need to argue, you probably haven’t set yourself free and you don’t want others to have what you couldn’t. Look within.)

I’ll leave you with this: I spent years seeking. Adding. Learning how to fix. When I started examining the reasons adding new things wasn’t working, I started peeling off layers and eventually letting them go. 

When I woke up today (Monday) feeling like writing about our week was going to be arduous and take more from our new week than the value provided by pushing myself, I gave myself permission to adjust expectations.  

With past practice, it didn’t take long at all to feel out what was right for me today. Even then, after deciding not to write, I wrote and let it flow. I adjusted again. I gave myself permission to trust what felt right more than a rigid expectation, even a new one I’d just set. Here we are. I feel free. I feel I created something better than if I’d forced myself to stick to the norm. I also created my freedom because now I’m done – with minimal effort, maximum connection, and fluid authenticity.

I could say so much more about any of these topics, but for now, here’s how they intertwine. If you’re left with any questions, please ask!

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