When friendships fade quietly…

One of the hardest things I didn’t expect about parenting a neurodivergent child is how friendships can quietly fall away. No big argument. No clear ending. Just… silence.

I opened up to someone I thought was a close friend. I shared the hardest parts – the violence from my own child at home, my husband’s PTSD, the crushing overwhelm and weight of carrying it all. She was kind in the moment. Supportive. Familiar. I thought we were still solid.

Then I realised I hadn’t heard from her in months. I reached out, worried she might be going through something. Her response was polite but distant. Still, I told myself I was imagining it. I pushed the hurt aside and tried again. We met up.

But it wasn’t what I hoped. She felt different. Disconnected. Her life seemed shiny, organised, so far removed from mine. I made all the right noises, smiled in all the right places. But underneath, I knew we were done.

We were too messy. Too intense. Too much.

And the truth is, this happens a lot. When you’re raising a child who doesn’t fit the mould, people start drifting. Some quietly step back. Some ghost you completely. And it hurts more than we often admit.

Not because we’re broken.

Not because we’re doing it wrong.

But because our lives hold a kind of truth that not everyone can sit with.

If this has happened to you, you’re not alone. I see you. I’ve lived it. And there’s nothing wrong with you.