During the early pandemic months, journalist Ej dickson, like so many of us, found herself scrolling Instagram, searching for grounding. Her then–three-year-old son was struggling with speech and motor delays, and the evaluation process had just begun. She was exhausted, anxious, and trying to hold her family together in unprecedented circumstances. That’s when she found Dr. Becky Kennedy, Good Inside, and the concept of the “Deeply Feeling Kid.”
A senior writer at The Cut covering culture, E.J. recently published “Do ‘Deeply Feeling Kids’ Really Exist? Dr. Becky’s concept is hugely influential. But is it preventing some children from getting diagnoses?”
Discovering Dr. Becky During an Uncertain Season
“I started watching Dr. Becky’s content, and the idea of the ‘Deeply Feeling Kid’ really resonated. It reminded me so much of my kid.”
Like many parents, she used the DFK framework to guide her parenting. And some of it worked:
“I think offering the ‘most generous interpretation’ of behavior, that was huge for me. I’m not naturally that way. It helped me see him with more softness.”
But other parts didn’t work as well.
“So much of Dr. Becky’s approach is verbal. A lot of ‘I’m not going to let you do that,’ or ‘I understand you’re feeling this.’ If your kid has processing or speech issues, they can’t follow that. I kept trying and just felt like I was failing.”
This is a theme I hear from neurodiverse families every day.
When Parenting Advice Doesn’t Fit
As E.J. talked through her experience, I heard echoes of dozens of parents in the Good Inside Community forums — trying, trying, trying, and wondering why the strategies weren’t working.
“I started getting frustrated with the idea that parenting advice is one-size-fits-all. It’s even harder when you’re raising a neurodivergent child. Their needs are so specific. You start to feel like you are the problem.”
That belief that we’re uniquely failing is something almost every parent of a neurodivergent kid carries at some point.
And it was one of the driving forces behind her reporting.
“When I started interviewing people, I realized how many parents felt the same way. And honestly? I didn’t expect the intensity of the response.”
Did “Deeply Feeling Kid” Delay Diagnoses?
“The neuropsychologists and therapists I spoke to almost uniformly said: yes, they’d seen families delay evaluation because of the DFK label. I don’t want to overstate it, but they all had examples.”
It wasn’t negligence. It was the natural human desire to avoid stigma—especially the stigma surrounding autism. And it was the enormous influence of one of the most trusted parenting voices online.
Many families resonated with her story. Many also pushed back hard.
But the truth is simple: a well-intentioned, “palatable” label can sometimes obscure deeper needs.
E.J. soon learned, and later reported, that comfort isn’t the same as clarity.
Sometimes, the ideas that soothe us can also slow us down.
E.J.’s Diagnosis Journey
E.J.’s son had his first evaluation around age four and received a speech delay diagnosis.
“I’ve known for a long time that he was autistic and ADHD. But we only got the official diagnosis a couple months ago.”
It was a process she describes as both difficult and empowering.
“A diagnosis opens doors. It’s not an ending, it’s a beginning. It gives you a framework to understand your child. Ina said that so beautifully, and it’s true.”
A diagnosis doesn’t change your child. It changes your ability to support them. Because contrary to cultural fears, a diagnosis is not limiting. Evaluations aren’t treatments, they are information. And they open doors to necessary services, supports, and community.
They give parents language, understanding, and a way out of the shame-spiral that so often accompanies those early years of not knowing. And diagnoses can connect parents to each other. Raising neurodivergent kids can be intense and isolating, and community is a form of care.
On Criticism, Ableism, and Why Blaming Mothers Is the Oldest Story in the Book
When I asked whether she’d seen the online backlash, E.J. said she hadn’t — only what I had told her. The online pushback follows two predictable patterns:
Defenders of Dr. Becky who insist the article was unfair.
People who believe parents like Ina were “negligent” for trusting Dr. Becky.
But her response was grounding:
“Honestly… Those arguments are in bad faith.
“You can’t call a parent negligent for trusting one of the most powerful parenting influencers in the country. It ignores ableism, access, stigma, and everything parents are up against.”
And both ignore the realities parents of neurodivergent kids face:
Ableism
The lack of support from schools, doctors, government agencies, and community
The profound loneliness of parenting a child whose needs aren’t understood
As E.J. points out, this is part of a long history of blaming mothers, whch she writes about in her upcoming book on the cultural mythology of “bad mothers” spanning from “refrigerator mothers” in the 1950s to modern-day moralizing.
“There’s a long history of blaming mothers for their children’s struggles. From refrigerator mothers to now. My book is literally about this.”
“It’s exploring the concept of the bad mother through history and pop culture, and arguing that it’s a patriarchal construct. I’ve spent the past few years thinking a lot about how quick people are to blame mothers for anything. Literally anything.
“There’s a historical precedent. My book talks about that belief years ago that mothers caused their children’s autism by withholding affection from them. They called them ‘refrigerator mothers.’
“Society works in so many different ways to blame women, to blame mothers, for basically anything people can think of. And this specific critique just feels like yet another example of that.”
And she’s right. Understanding the systemic forces at play matters as much as understanding the parenting advice itself.
An Uplifting Moment of Sibling Joy
I asked E.J. the same question I’ve asked so many guests on Atypical Kids, Mindful Parents: “What’s a parenting memory that brings you joy?”
She tried to pick one that wouldn’t make her cry… unsuccessfully.
“My boys running and laughing together. We live in an apartment building with a long hallway, and they tear around causing havoc. it makes the neighbors hate us, but it’s beautiful. The little one is mischievous and brings out something wild in the older one. The older one brings out deep empathy in the younger. Watching them together… it makes the hard parts worth it.”
Her three-year-old brings out the mischievous spark in her older son; her older son brings out empathy and gentleness in his younger brother. Their bond is chaotic, sensory, loud, and deeply loving.
She paused.
“I don’t like a lot of the daily grind of parenting. The PTA emails, the mess, the politics. But those are the moments that make it all worthwhile. It is such a gift that I get to know them and raise them.”
Clarity Leads To Being Understood
What Parents of Neurodivergent Kids Should Know
When I asked what she most wanted parents to understand, she didn’t hesitate:
“You’re not alone. You may feel isolated, dismissed, gaslit. People will brush off your concerns because they think autism is a dirty word. It’s not. It’s a way to understand how your child’s brain works.”
“You’re not alone.”
This conversation (like the one with Ina, and many here at Atypical Kids, Mindful Parents) illuminated what families of neurodivergent kids already know:
Parenting is hard enough!
When raising neurodivergent kids, we’re also sitting with all the confusion, the hopes, the self-blame. But then there’s the clarity that arrives slowly, and the sense of community that emerges when we dare to say things out loud.
Dr. Becky’s DFK framework helps many families. Acknowledging its limitations isn’t an attack, it’s advocacy. E.J.’s reporting, and her openness in this conversation, offers something rare:
truth without shame,
clarity without judgment, and
We all deserve that. And so do our kids.
A kinder future for our kids begins with kindness toward ourselves.
