Healing the Mother Wound: The Impact of Emotional Neglect on Neurodivergent Children

In my work as both a doctor and a healer, I’ve encountered many individuals, particularly those who are neurodivergent, carrying the weight of what is called the mother wound. This wound often manifests as emotional neglect, not through overt abuse or abandonment, but through a lack of emotional presence and nurturing. It’s the feeling of being physically cared for but emotionally unseen, the absence of guidance, and the deep longing for a mother who couldn’t be fully present. For neurodivergent children, this absence is even more pronounced, as they require extra emotional and sensory support to navigate a world that often feels overwhelming and confusing.

For neurodivergent children, this wound can be particularly intense. Imagine a child who is already navigating the world in a completely different way—processing immense amounts of sensory information, constantly attuned to the energy of those around them, and yet, they are left to make sense of it all on their own. They may be empathic to a profound degree, feeling everything in the room, and even sensing beyond the physical realm. They are often incredibly intuitive, able to tap into emotions and energies that others cannot perceive. This makes it all the more challenging for them to feel grounded, supported, or safe. And if they’re not properly guided or understood, they may look instead to fit in with their peers and, in some cases, get bullied for their differences or be at risk of abusive relationships.

This is where the mother wound becomes deeply impactful. It’s not about the absence of physical care from a mother, but the lack of emotional presence, empathy, and guidance. For neurodivergent children, emotional neglect can leave lasting scars. Without the support they need, they can feel misunderstood, unseen, and emotionally abandoned in their own home. In an attempt to survive, they may try to fit in or withdraw completely, which only isolates them further and prevents them from receiving the support they desperately need. Over time, this neglect can erode their sense of self, causing them to lose their authenticity and struggle to build the self-confidence they need to thrive.

Healing this wound is transformative, not only for the individual but for the very fabric of the relationships in their life. It requires a deep, soulful connection to the part of us that has been overlooked, dismissed, or abandoned. When we heal this wound, we begin to mother ourselves in ways our biological mothers may have been unable to. It’s about stepping into the role of a compassionate and nurturing presence for our inner child. But it also involves connecting to something larger than ourselves—whether it be through spirituality, connecting with Mother Earth, or drawing upon the wisdom of ancestors and angels.

Healing this wound means finding the strength to support and care for the most vulnerable parts of ourselves. This is powerful work. It gives us the ability to help others in ways that someone who has not experienced this healing process might struggle to. We become more attuned to the needs of those around us, offering support and compassion without the shadow of our own unresolved wounds.

As I reflect on my own journey, I realise I didn’t fully understand the concept of this wound until a few years ago. When I first came across the term, I wept. It was as though someone had named the very thing that I had lived with my entire life. For so long, I had felt the absence of a nurturing, present mother figure. My own mother was physically there, but emotionally she was never truly in the room. She was consumed with her own fears, anxieties, and the desire to people please and externally find love. Her needs were suppressed, and she acted from a place of frustration, unable or unwilling to do the inner work required to heal her own wounds.

This dynamic became painfully apparent when I became a mother myself. I was determined not to repeat the same patterns with my child. I was present, deeply connected to his emotions, and completely there for him. But there were moments when I wondered, When is it my turn? Where is the mother I never had? The absence of my own mother's emotional availability hit me like a wave. It wasn’t that she didn’t care for me physically, but she simply couldn’t be the mother I needed because she had not yet done the work to heal herself. She was disconnected from her own inner child, and as a result, she couldn’t truly mother me in the way I longed for.

My mother’s own mother, I discovered through spiritual communication, had been abandoned by her family—misunderstood and pushed aside as weak and incapable. Despite her attempts to take her daughter with her, her husband fought to claim the child, further deepening the wound. My grandma, carrying the unresolved trauma of her own abandonment, then struggled to mother my mum in a healthy, present way. She attacked her with verbal abuse, never fully loved her, and placed more emphasis on her son than on healing her own wounds.

But through all of this, I found Mother Earth. I found me. I began the deep work of healing these generational wounds, breaking the cycle of emotional neglect and creating a new narrative for myself and my son. This process has not only healed me but has opened up a whole new world of compassion and connection to those around me.

The mother wound is one that’s particularly poignant for the very special child to heal. It’s not just their karmic task, but it’s also the source of their power. When we heal our relationship with our mother and the emotional neglect we endured, we tap into an incredible source of strength.

And through compassion—both for ourselves and for our mothers—we break free from the cycle of trauma that has been passed down through generations.

Healing the wound of the unmotherd child is not easy. It requires deep introspection, compassion, and a willingness to confront painful truths. But in doing so, we not only heal ourselves, we step into our true power.

And in the process, we become more able to help others—whether they are our own children, our friends, or our clients—navigate their own emotional struggles and find peace.

The journey is long, but it is worth every step.