GHA
Well-Known Member
Love Is Not Enough — Understanding Matters
I once called out to a neurodiverse family member from the other room. No reply. A few seconds later, he appeared in the doorway, ready to discuss what I had in mind.
No “Yes, I’m coming.” No verbal acknowledgment. Just action.
That moment captures something many people miss: not every response is spoken, not every connection is performed in the “usual” way. For some, words are secondary to action. They hear you, they register you, and they respond — but in a form that makes sense to them.
Living alongside someone like this for years has taught me truths you don’t find in books.
I’ve seen how their logic is stripped of unnecessary layers — functional, precise, and free from social filler. If something is understood, there’s no need to repeat it for form’s sake. I’ve seen emotions expressed not in grand declarations but in quiet, consistent acts — fixing what’s broken, remembering what matters to you, sharing something because they know it will help.
Many here have families who love them. I believe that. But love on its own is not the same as truly knowing them. Too often, families stop at affection, expecting the other person to bridge the gap by “adapting” to their way of communication and interaction.
The truth is, the bridge has to be built from both sides. Understanding means stepping into their logic, respecting their rhythms, and accepting that their way of engaging with the world is not a flaw to be corrected, but a signature to be recognised.
When that happens, something remarkable occurs. The person no longer feels they are “on display” or constantly having to explain themselves. They relax into being, and their deeper abilities — often extraordinary — start to show. Insight. Creativity. Problem-solving that cuts through complexity. Ways of thinking that the majority simply doesn’t possess.
If you are family to someone who is neurodiverse, remember this: love is the start, not the finish. Learn their way of being. Notice the quiet cues. Value their logic as much as emotion. And above all, let them know their way of moving through the world is not just accepted — it is respected and needed
I once called out to a neurodiverse family member from the other room. No reply. A few seconds later, he appeared in the doorway, ready to discuss what I had in mind.
No “Yes, I’m coming.” No verbal acknowledgment. Just action.
That moment captures something many people miss: not every response is spoken, not every connection is performed in the “usual” way. For some, words are secondary to action. They hear you, they register you, and they respond — but in a form that makes sense to them.
Living alongside someone like this for years has taught me truths you don’t find in books.
I’ve seen how their logic is stripped of unnecessary layers — functional, precise, and free from social filler. If something is understood, there’s no need to repeat it for form’s sake. I’ve seen emotions expressed not in grand declarations but in quiet, consistent acts — fixing what’s broken, remembering what matters to you, sharing something because they know it will help.
Many here have families who love them. I believe that. But love on its own is not the same as truly knowing them. Too often, families stop at affection, expecting the other person to bridge the gap by “adapting” to their way of communication and interaction.
The truth is, the bridge has to be built from both sides. Understanding means stepping into their logic, respecting their rhythms, and accepting that their way of engaging with the world is not a flaw to be corrected, but a signature to be recognised.
When that happens, something remarkable occurs. The person no longer feels they are “on display” or constantly having to explain themselves. They relax into being, and their deeper abilities — often extraordinary — start to show. Insight. Creativity. Problem-solving that cuts through complexity. Ways of thinking that the majority simply doesn’t possess.
If you are family to someone who is neurodiverse, remember this: love is the start, not the finish. Learn their way of being. Notice the quiet cues. Value their logic as much as emotion. And above all, let them know their way of moving through the world is not just accepted — it is respected and needed
