Emotional Fitness

Debbie Reber, founder of Tilt Parenting and one of my favorite neurodivergent parenting advocates, writes in her book Differently Wired that parents raising differently wired kids are engaged in “a more extreme form of child-rearing.” She compares us to the “base jumpers or wingsuit flyers of parenting—because it can be messier, more intense, and more relentless”.

That analogy has always resonated with me.

Neurodivergent parenting can ask more of us emotionally and test our resilience in ways we never anticipated.

And just as an athlete builds physical strength and skills to handle the demands of a challenging sport, we can build emotional strength and skills to help us navigate the demands of parenting.

That's what I like to call emotional fitness.

I think of emotional fitness—or emotional health—as how well we relate to and respond to our emotions.

When difficult emotions show up, do we respond to them in ways that serve us—or in ways that unintentionally make things harder?

Because neurodivergent parenting gives us a lot to feel.

Worry. Frustration. Grief. Anger. Guilt. Overwhelm. Joy. Pride. Hope.

Sometimes all before breakfast.

When we don't have the skills to navigate challenging emotions, it's easy to get swept up in them. We might try to push them away, react impulsively, or let them take over the driver's seat—making it harder to access the calmer, more thoughtful part of our brain.

But the goal isn't to get rid of difficult emotions. It's to build the skills that help us experience them without letting them completely take over.

Think about physical fitness: we don't exercise so that our bodies never have to work hard. We exercise so that when they do, we're stronger and better able to handle the demand.

Emotional fitness works in much the same way. We can't—and wouldn't want to—eliminate difficult emotions. But we can strengthen our ability to experience them, move through them, and choose how we want to respond.

And just as physical muscles get stronger through targeted exercise and practice, so can our “emotion muscles.”

Here are the six emotion muscles I focus on and some of the evidence-informed practices that can help strengthen each one:

Awareness — mindfulness and emotion identification
Clarity — values identification and values-aligned action
Resilience — arousal regulation, distress tolerance, and self-compassion
Flexibility — reframing and defusion
Balance — sleep hygiene and supportive routines
Connection — supportive relationships and assertive communication

We don't need to be strong in every area all the time. Just like physical fitness, emotional fitness is something we build over time. The more we practice these skills, the easier they can be to access when we really need them.

I got a very real reminder of that on a recent family vacation.

My son loves routine and doesn't particularly love traveling.

Before a recent trip, I did “all the things” I know can help—preloading, offering choices, lowering pressure, and preparing him for what to expect.

And still...

He was just off.

There was a lot of dysregulation, and the trip wasn't going the way I'd hoped.

My instinct was to fix it.

What could I change? What could I say that would make things better?

Eventually, I had to recognize something important:

I could support my son, but I couldn't control his experience. What I could work with was my own.

I still wanted moments of connection and enjoyment, even if the vacation wasn't unfolding the way I'd pictured it.

That's when I found myself reaching for some of those emotional fitness skills.

Awareness muscle

Instead of getting swept up in what I was feeling, I tried to name it:

This is worry. This is disappointment. This is frustration.

It reminded me of Dan Siegel's “name it to tame it”—something we often teach our kids but may forget to practice ourselves.

Naming the emotions didn't make them disappear. But it gave me a little space from them—and helped me notice what was happening without immediately reacting to it.

Resilience muscle

At one point, I had my own meltdown. I was sad and disappointed that things weren't going the way I'd hoped.

Instead of judging myself—which only makes a hard moment harder—I tried offering myself some compassion:

Of course I'm disappointed. This is hard.

I also kept coming back to a phrase I've been using lately:

“This is the moment I'm in right now.”

There's something reassuring about right now. It reminds me that this is one moment in time—not forever.

I didn't have to like the moment or fix it. I just had to meet myself where I was.

Clarity muscle

Next, I asked myself:

Given what I can't control, what do I want to focus on?

For me, what mattered was presence, connection, and enjoying what was available.

Those values didn't require my son to suddenly become regulated. They didn't require the vacation to go according to plan.

But they did give me a direction.

Instead of continuing to focus on how I wished things were going, I could ask myself: What can I do, right now, that moves me toward what matters to me?

Sometimes that meant noticing and savoring a small moment of connection. Sometimes it meant enjoying something on my own. And sometimes it simply meant letting go of how I thought the vacation was supposed to look.

Our vacation wasn't perfect. And I definitely didn't handle every moment the way I would have liked.

But I did bounce back much more quickly than I would have in the past.

I spent less time stuck in worry, disappointment, and thinking about how things should be—and more time available for connection and enjoyment.

And when I was more regulated and present, I was better able to support my son too.

That's emotional fitness.

It's having skills to get back in the game when things get hard—and strengthening those skills through practice.

So the next time you find yourself knocked off course, you might ask:

What's happening for me right now?
What thoughts and feelings are showing up?

Which skill might help me right now?

What matters to me in this moment?

What's one small thing I can do that moves me in that direction?

If you'd like help navigating the challenges of parenting neurodivergent kids—or simply want more support for your own emotional wellbeing—there are a few ways we can work together:

Join an upcoming parent group
I'm planning an 8-week small group coaching and support program for parents raising neurodivergent kids this fall. We'll practice many of the emotional fitness skills I shared in this newsletter, while also creating space for connection and support with other parents who get it.

Learn more + join the interest list →

Individual coaching
• New clients can schedule a free 30-minute consult through my scheduling page

• Existing clients can book sessions through the client scheduling page

– Jenn