By Will Wheeler – Neurodivergent Mates Podcast

Introduction: A Family Conversation

Neurodiversity is often spoken about in research, workplaces, or classrooms — but what about inside families? Behind every neurodivergent child, there are parents navigating the unknown, making mistakes, and building resilience along the way.

In a very special episode of Neurodivergent Mates, I sat down with my mum, Marilyn Wheeler, to reflect on our family’s journey. From raising two neurodivergent sons to later realising her own ADHD traits, Mum’s perspective offers invaluable lessons about love, persistence, and parenting when there’s no rule book.

Our Neurodivergent Family Story

Marilyn begins by describing our family as “normal” — but with hindsight, it’s clear neurodiversity runs through every branch.

• My dad, Bill, is dyslexic, though undiagnosed in childhood when teachers dismissed him as “a bit of a dummy.”
• I was diagnosed with dyslexia at age eight and later with ADHD, classified as twice-exceptional (2E).
• My brother Craig was diagnosed early with both dyslexia and dyspraxia, requiring years of therapy for motor skills.
• And eventually, Mum herself recognised the hallmarks of ADHD in her own life.

“I don’t intend to be diagnosed. I’ve developed strategies over the years to cope. But I definitely am ADHD.” – Marilyn

This realisation reframed our family story: not one of deficit, but of resilience and adaptability.

Parenting Without a Map

Looking back, Mum says the hardest part of parenting neurodivergent kids in the 80s and 90s was not knowing. At that time, ADHD was narrowly associated with “naughty boys” who couldn’t sit still. Dyslexia was only beginning to be recognised in Australia.

That left parents like Mum and Dad without clear guidance. Instead, they faced judgement from teachers, confusion from professionals, and their own fears about “doing something wrong.”

“I’d take you to playgroup, and you’d cling to me. I’d think: I must be the worst parent on earth. Who knew about ADHD back then?” – Marilyn

School Struggles and Teacher Battles

The transition from preschool to school was particularly hard. Where early childhood was filled with creativity and play, primary school demanded conformity, sitting still, and endless worksheets.

As a child, I often pushed back — sometimes telling teachers exactly what I thought of their authority. While that landed me in trouble, Mum also recalls the good teachers who saw my potential, encouraged my creativity, and made a lifelong impact.

Still, she often found herself at school advocating with little effect. Every year she would hand over psychologist reports, explain my dyslexia, and stress that I was bright. But instead of tailored support, I was often punished with detentions or kept in at lunch — strategies that only made things worse.

The Cost of Professional Advice

Like many parents, Mum and Dad spent thousands of dollars chasing solutions.

• Tutors: Exhausting late-night sessions that left me disengaged.
• Educational programs: Expensive software that gathered dust after a few weeks.
• Glasses: Prescribed by a professional despite my eyesight being perfectly fine.

“We thought we were doing the right thing. We weren’t professionals — we just wanted to help our son.” – Marilyn

It was a reminder that not all “expert advice” is right for every child, and that parents must be cautious of quick-fix promises.

Building Resilience Through Hard Work

One thing that did help was work. Our family ran a commercial cleaning business, and from age 14 my brother and I were employed alongside adult staff.

The rules were clear: we had to work harder than anyone else. That experience built resilience, independence, and financial literacy. We learned to budget, save for cars, and respect the value of money.

At the same time, sport became a lifeline. With Mum and Dad coaching and managing teams, my brother and I thrived on the field even when school was difficult. Sport gave us confidence and a sense of belonging that academics often couldn’t.

Teenage Years: A Wild Ride

When asked about my teenage years, Mum doesn’t sugar-coat it:

“Your teenage years were an absolute disaster.” – Marilyn

From 14 into my early twenties, I made plenty of poor choices. Like many neurodivergent teens, I masked, sought acceptance from the “cool kids,” and sometimes ended up in risky situations.

Yet these years were also about testing boundaries, building independence, and eventually realising that I needed to take responsibility.

Travelling overseas became a turning point. Away from family safety nets, I had to grow up quickly, manage my own life, and eventually discover a love for learning that school never nurtured.

Strategies That Worked

Mum reflects that the most effective parenting strategies weren’t complicated programs but simple consistency and presence:

• Being involved: Whether it was sport, school meetings, or work, Mum and Dad were always around.
• Encouraging strengths: Focusing on what we could do, not just where we struggled.
• Setting expectations: Teaching accountability through hard work in the family business.
• Role modelling: Demonstrating empathy, kindness, and resilience in daily life.

“You can’t go around saying, ‘poor us.’ You just live your life the best way you can and support your kids to do the same.” – Marilyn

Shifting Into Adulthood

As both Craig and I entered adulthood, Mum says the challenges shifted but the core lesson remained: sometimes parents must let go.

When I moved overseas, my parents were terrified but supportive. That separation forced both my brother and me to step up in different ways. For me, it became the seed for building Neurodiversity Academy years later. For Craig, it meant becoming more independent and confident in his own right.

What Still Needs to Change

When asked what changes she’d like to see in schools, communities, and workplaces, Mum didn’t hesitate:

• Earlier, affordable testing – Too many families wait years or spend thousands to access assessments.
• Less stigma – Community attitudes still equate neurodivergence with disability or failure.
• Workplace inclusion beyond policies – Tick-box diversity statements don’t change culture. True inclusion requires action, empathy, and seeing strengths.

Her message is clear: neurodiversity needs to be understood as difference, not deficit.

Advice for Parents

Finally, I asked Mum what advice she’d give parents just starting their journey raising a neurodivergent child. Her response was simple but powerful:

“Accept, love, love, love your kids. Don’t let teachers or report cards define them. Find what they’re good at and encourage it. Just support them no matter what.” – Marilyn

It’s advice rooted not in theory but in lived experience — a reminder that resilience is built on unconditional love.

Conclusion: Wired Differently, Loved the Same

This conversation with my mum reminded me that parenting through neurodiversity is messy, emotional, and often filled with doubt. But it’s also where resilience is forged.

Our family story isn’t about “overcoming” neurodivergence — it’s about recognising it, embracing it, and building lives that reflect our strengths. For parents starting this journey, the road may feel uncertain. But as Mum shows, love, persistence, and belief in your children make all the difference.

Where to Find More

Catch the full conversation with Marilyn Wheeler, by clicking the link below.