When Nobody Understands: The Missing Need All Moms of High-Needs Kids Carry

**You can also listen to this in audio format only on The Regulated Mother Podcast on Apple or Spotify.

**Below is the blog article for easy reading.

The Wound of Feeling Unseen and Alone

Do you ever feel like nobody truly understands what you’re going through as a mom of a high-needs child?

You try to explain the daily struggles — the meltdowns, the exhaustion, the impossible choices you make just to get through the day. But instead of compassion, you’re met with advice, judgment, silence or even gas-lighting.

It’s that sinking feeling in your gut when a doctor says, “You just need to push him harder.” Or when a friend says, “Aren’t you enabling him?” And in that moment, the shame rushes in. The thought plays on repeat: “I’m doing it wrong. No one gets me. I’m all alone in this.”

If you’ve ever felt that way, you’re not alone. The wound of being unseen, unheard, and unvalidated runs deep for so many of us – and it gets triggered again and again as we parent kids who don’t fit the mold.

In this episode/blog, we’re going to talk about why this wound cuts so deeply, where it really comes from, and the painful ways it shows up in our parenting. We’ll explore how our children mirror this wound back to us — and how, through them, we’re being invited to heal. And most importantly, I’ll share the number one practice that can help us shift from shame into healing, so we can show up differently for ourselves and for our kids.

Let’s begin. 

The Thought on Repeat: “Nobody Understands Me”

“Nobody understands me…No one gets what I’m going through.” This was the thought playing on repeat in my head for years, leaving me feeling all alone in the exhausting journey of trying to help my PDA Autistic child.

Here I was, doing everything possible to support him, and yet everywhere I turned I received subtle backhanded comments or suggestions that I was either doing it wrong or not doing enough. It was a constant triggering of shame and grief.

I had just gotten off a call with my son’s doctor who truly cared and wanted to help us. But despite her good intentions, she would say things that left me feeling unseen, unheard, and not good enough. “You need to push him a little more.” … “You need better boundaries.” … “Let the behavior therapists come and show you what needs to be done — they are the experts and they will give you a step-by-step plan.”

She cared, but the lens through which she saw me was of a mother who was too accommodating, too soft, and too scared to push her child. This was the feedback I received even after pouring my heart and soul into explaining how much I was trying to not let my son control our basic needs. I would explain that within the context of safety and connection was when I could challenge him. I would share how, even within some semblance of safety and regulation, he could still activate so severely that it impacted ours and his most basic needs of sleep, eating, and toileting.

But the only message I walked away with was: “You must be doing something wrong” and “You’re not the expert — the behavior therapists are the experts.”

Up until this point, I had refused behavior therapists for years because I didn’t feel comfortable with their approaches. Instead, I let my intuition and my deeper knowledge and training in nervous system science, trauma, attachment, and the teachings of world-renowned child development experts like Dr. Stanley Greenspan, Dr. Ross Greene, Dr. Mona Delahooke, Dr. Stuart Shanker, and more guide me. What I knew to be true was this: safety and connection first, then challenge.

But this is not how the world sees things. I was constantly pushing up against the deep conditioning of behaviorism that shaped the views of nearly everyone I worked with and interacted with.

Friends Who Don’t See the Full Picture

This experience wasn’t just with doctors or therapists for my son. It showed up with good friends too — well-intentioned people who couldn’t help their own implicit biases and conditioning. Biases they weren’t even aware of and never had to challenge because they were parenting more neurotypical kids.

I remember one evening, finally going out for dinner with friends after many months of being buried under my son’s challenges. I shared that I still slept with my son (he was 13 at the time), and one friend said, “Aren’t you enabling him and not teaching him to sleep on his own?”

Instantly, I felt that familiar drop in my gut…that well-known surge of shame whispering, I’m doing something wrong. I had just been explaining the intensity of my son’s struggles — how without accommodations, even basic needs like sleep, eating, and toileting would spiral. I was trying to help him feel safe in life while carefully challenging him so his needs didn’t completely take over ours. But instead of meeting me in my pain and validating how hard it was, I was met with the conditioned response: focus on the one thing I was doing to help him feel safer and call it “enabling.”

My heart sank. The thought resurfaced: Nobody understands me. Not even my friends. Nobody could see the pain I was carrying, nobody could see how hard I was working. All they seemed to notice was what I was doing “wrong.”

It’s Not About Blame — It’s About Conditioning

I want to be clear: I’m not sharing this to blame others or paint society as the enemy. No one is wrong or bad. Everyone is simply a product of their conditioning and programming. The truth is, we live in a culture built on behaviorism, one that teaches parents they should have control over their kids.

And so, everywhere we turn as mothers of hypersensitive, high-needs kids, we encounter this treatment — from parents and grandparents, to siblings, to friends. Many of us are left feeling utterly alone, like no one gets us or what we’re going through.

Sometimes we muster the courage to explain, only to be met with blank stares or subtle comments implying we’re wrong. Other times, we just shut down, stop sharing, and pretend we’re fine, because we don’t want to be the one “dumping” again — and because we can sense that people simply can’t handle the intensity of our lives. Either way, whether we speak up or stay silent, the feeling lingers: no one understands me, no one gets it, I’m all alone.

When Someone Finally Gets It

This is why, over and over again, mothers tell me the reason they want to work with me is because “you’re the only one who gets what I’m going through.” I see the relief in their eyes and in their bodies when they share and I resonate so deeply. I feel them, I know them — because I am them. In that moment, their shame and grief lighten. They find acceptance. They feel more self-compassion for what they’re carrying. And most importantly, they feel a little more “normal.” They begin to believe: Maybe this is a normal part of this journey. Maybe there is nothing wrong with me after all.

That shift is not just emotional — it’s a deep nervous system regulating experience.

The Universal Need Beneath It All

As always, I believe it’s vital to meet ourselves where we are, to validate our own experiences, and to normalize them - what we experience as moms of high needs kids is very real and very hard and this present experience does need to be validated….AND…at the heart of all of this is also something universal: as humans, we ALL carry a profound need to feel seen, heard, and validated. We long to know that others understand us, that our pain makes sense, and that we are allowed to have this experience — and still be worthy of love and acceptance.

Why Do We All Have This Deep Need to Feel Seen, Heard, and Validated?

We all carry an innate human need to feel seen, heard, and validated. It’s not just a preference — it’s a survival-level need that has been wired into us for connection, belonging, self-worth, and even safety. When we feel acknowledged, it reassures us that our presence and our experiences matter. It strengthens our emotional well-being, helps us trust others, and deepens intimacy in relationships. When we don’t receive it, we can be left with emptiness, self-doubt, and disconnection that erodes our ability to thrive.

The Roots of This Need

• Survival in Early Human Societies. For our ancestors, being recognized and included by the tribe literally meant survival. If you weren’t seen or acknowledged, you risked being left behind — which meant danger or even death. Belonging was protection.
  
  
• Significance and Self-Worth. To be seen and validated is to have our worth mirrored back. It affirms: you matter, your feelings matter, your life matters.
  
  
• Emotional Well-Being. When someone validates our feelings, it gives us permission to process them instead of shutting them down. This is vital for mental health and resilience.
  
  

The Gifts of Feeling Seen and Heard

• Connection and Belonging. Validation creates intimacy — a felt sense of being part of something bigger than ourselves.
  
  
• Empowerment. When our truth is acknowledged, we gain the courage to voice our needs, advocate for ourselves, and stand strong in our convictions.
  
  
• Trust and Loyalty. Being genuinely listened to builds trust. It makes relationships safer, deeper, and more sustainable.
  
  

The Cost of Unmet Needs

• Emptiness and Disconnection. When no one reflects our experience back to us, we can feel profoundly isolated — even in the middle of a crowd.
  
  
• Insecurity and Low Self-Esteem. When invalidation begins in childhood and carries forward, it can create lifelong beliefs of unworthiness: I don’t matter. I’m too much. I’m not enough.
  
  

This is why the pain of not being seen cuts so deeply. It isn’t “just in our heads.” It’s wired into us as humans. Feeling seen, heard, and validated is a core human need — essential to both our emotional well-being and our physical health.

The Deeper Wounds of Unfulfilled Needs of Being Seen, Heard, Validated

What is becoming more and more clear to me is that all of us carry deeper wounds from childhood — wounds of not being seen, heard, or validated for who we truly are. The pain of not being understood today is often part of a much greater wound that was established long ago, then compounded by our current experiences of being dismissed or unseen.

Every time I’m triggered in a situation, I do the U-turn and focus inside on what’s really being stirred up in me. And almost always, it traces back to a childhood wound. For me, there were many:

• Not being seen when I was angry and expressed it — no one looked deeper to see that my anger was really masking hurt.
  
  
• Not being able to say No or set boundaries because it didn’t feel like I was allowed to.
  
  
• Not being seen for my sensitivities, but instead being cast as the “strong one” who could handle anything.
  
  
• Not being heard when I expressed interest in creative hobbies or learning something outside of the mold, and instead being told to be like the kids who were more into math and science.
  
  
• Some of the deepest wounds happen when a parent doesn’t spot the emergence of the true self and how it’s trying to express, and instead either gets scared and shuts it down or ignores it — only paying attention to and giving love to the conditioned version of “good behavior.”
  
  
• Or when you react emotionally to something that truly hurt you, and instead of being seen and validated, you’re mirrored that your experience is wrong — that you’re overreacting or that you must have caused it.
  
  

Most of our triggering today as moms of high-needs kids — the feeling of not being seen, heard, validated, and the haunting beliefs of “nobody understands me,” “I’m all alone,” “I’m doing it wrong,” “I’m not good enough,” “I’m too much,” “I can’t show others I’m in pain because they won’t understand or will reject me” — these didn’t start here. They began in childhood, and now the world mirrors them back to us again.

Turning Pain Into Purpose and Meaning

And yet, here’s where the story begins to shift.

The irony is that our kids live in a world that mirrors to them — even more than it mirrors to us — that they don’t belong, they aren’t enough as they are, and they need to change to be accepted. They are rarely seen, heard, understood, or validated for who they truly are in any moment.

All we want as mothers is to give them this experience. To let them feel they belong, that they are loved as they are. And it is excruciating to watch them face rejection in a world so consumed by sameness.

But this is also the very gift our children bring to us. They are teaching us that feeling seen, heard, validated, and like we belong actually starts within. All their triggering behaviors are pushing us to heal our own wounds — to break the generational patterns of shutting down emotions and controlling differences. They are guiding us toward compassion, full acceptance, and letting go of control.

But it has to start with us.

We need to change these patterns first. We need to show up for ourselves — to see ourselves, hear ourselves, and validate ourselves with love and compassion. We need to trust our deeper intuition and inner wisdom about what is best for our kids and families, even when “authorities or experts” tell us otherwise. We need to heal the wounds of the past and of past generations so that we can create a new experience for our children and a new world for them to live in.

That begins with our full love and acceptance of ourselves — and only then can we extend it fully to them.

This is where pain turns into purpose. This is where pain shifts into healing.

So how do we begin to heal these wounds of not being seen, heard, or validated for who we are and what we’re going through?

The answer you - your True Self - can bring in self-compassion and self-acceptance and give yourself a new experience of feeling safe in the face of a world that mirrors to you that you’re not enough or doing it wrong.  

Always remember that you are not your wounds…You are the Awareness of your wounding experience and you can give it a new experience that brings in healing. 

How Self-Compassion and Self-Acceptance Heals

I still have those doctor calls every four months, but there is a difference now compared to a few years ago. I still hear those subtle comments insinuating that I’m not pushing enough, or that I’m doing it wrong, or that the behavior therapists are the “real” experts instead of me — his own mother.

But it doesn’t hurt anymore. It doesn’t drop me into a slump of dorsal vagal shutdown, weighed down by grief and shame. Instead, I go into the call knowing I will likely hear something along those lines, but I meet it more light-heartedly now. I can see the truth of the situation — that most people are conditioned and programmed and simply can’t see it differently. I can take what I need from the call and let the rest go.

I trust my own inner guidance and intuition about what’s best for my child, and I don’t question myself as much. Sometimes I even get off the call, share some of the comments with my husband, and laugh. My nervous system has become more flexible. My true self comes forward with clarity and perspective, and I can see that how other people view me and my situation has more to do with the lens of conditioning they carry than with the truth of how I’m doing as a mom. I can even feel gratitude for the doctor, who genuinely tries her best to help us in the only way she knows how.

What helped me get here was doing the deeper work of healing past wounds and those deeply embedded beliefs that I was “bad, wrong, and not enough” — and pairing that with a constant practice of self-compassion and self-acceptance, meeting myself as I am without judgment or criticism.

Why Self-Compassion Regulates the Nervous System

Self-compassion is not only my lifeline — it is also what research calls a “master regulator” of the nervous system. Studies by Kristin Neff and Chris Germer have shown what I’ve experienced in my own body:

• It activates the soothing system. Meeting ourselves with kindness shifts the body out of threat mode and into the parasympathetic “rest and digest” state.
  
  
• It supports vagal regulation. Self-compassion helps the vagus nerve do its job of restoring balance after stress, giving us more flexibility to handle challenges.
  
  
• It increases heart-rate variability (HRV). Higher HRV is a marker of resilience, and self-compassion practices are linked to improved HRV — meaning more ability to recover after stress.
  
  
• It quiets the fight-or-flight system. Self-criticism fuels adrenaline and cortisol; compassion softens the threat response, reducing stress hormones and calming the body.
  
  
• It creates an internal secure base. Over time, self-compassion becomes like an inner attachment figure — the steady presence inside that says, “I see you. I hear you. You make sense.”
  
  

For mothers living with chronic stress, grief, or trauma, this matters deeply. Self-compassion calms the body, widens our window of tolerance, and helps us hold our pain with warmth instead of shame.

And just as important, self-compassion allows us to be with grief and let go of shame — two of the hardest emotions we face over and over again as moms of high-needs kids.

A Simple Practice of Self-Compassion

Here’s a gentle practice you can try the next time you feel triggered or unseen:

1. Awareness First: Pause and Notice.
   Acknowledge what’s happening: “I feel dismissed right now. I feel shame rising. This hurts.”
   Notice where you feel that in your body.  Notice that you are not this feeling, you are the Awareness of it, and you can help it to feel safe. 

1. Bring In A Cue Of Safety: Offer Soothing Touch.
   Place a hand on your heart, chest, or another place that feels comforting. Touch itself is a cue of safety for the nervous system.
   
   
2. Speak to Yourself Kindly and Acknowledge Yourself.
   Say to yourself:
   
   
• This is painful, and it makes sense that it hurts.
  
  
• I am not alone — many mothers feel this way.
  
  
• I am doing the best I can, and that is enough.
  
  
3. Breathe and Allow.
   Take a slow breath in and slow longer breath out. Let the emotions move through you without judgment. Notice if your body softens, even just a little.
   
   

This practice won’t erase the pain, but it changes how you carry it. Instead of abandoning yourself — repeating the old wound of being unseen — you offer yourself the very thing you most need: validation, kindness, and safety.

From Wound to Wholeness

The wound of not being seen, heard, or validated runs deep for us as mothers of high-needs kids. It echoes from our own childhoods, gets mirrored back to us in doctor’s offices, at school meetings, and even at the dinner table with friends. It can leave us feeling invisible, wrong, and all alone.

But this wound doesn’t have to define us. It can become the very doorway into healing. Our children, with all of their challenges and all of their brilliance, are our teachers. They invite us — sometimes push us — to look inward, to see ourselves, to hear ourselves, and to validate our own truth.

When we choose self-compassion and self-acceptance, everything shifts. We begin to meet our pain with kindness instead of criticism. We soften shame and create room to process grief. We build a flexible nervous system that can handle the hard moments and still find the light. And as we do this, we not only heal ourselves — we also give our children the gift they most need: the lived experience of belonging and being enough, exactly as they are.

This is how our pain turns into purpose. This is how generations of patterns begin to change. This is how we create the safe and loving world our children deserve — starting from within.