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A story many families live, but rarely tell

Neurodivergent Child Diagnoses are far more common in India than most families are willing to admit.

On a Sunday afternoon in a middle-class apartment in Delhi, relatives gathered for lunch. Conversations floated from school marks to marriage proposals. Eight-year-old Mohan sat under the table, flapping his hands, humming softly. His mother smiled nervously and pulled him out.

“Bas thoda ziddi hai,” (“Just a little stubborn.”) -She said quickly.

No one asked more. And she was relieved.

That moment, small, ordinary, and forgettable to outsiders, is where the silence begins.

Across India, thousands of families quietly hide, minimise, or delay acknowledging Neurodivergent Child Diagnoses such as autism, ADHD, dyslexia, or sensory processing differences. Not because they love their children any less, but because they fear what honesty might cost them.

Note: Any child examples used by NeuroNestHub are fictional and shared solely for educational purposes.

Recent community data from Uttarakhand revealed that 35,746 children aged 0–17 live with developmental or psychiatric conditions, including autism and ADHD (e.g., autism ~8 per 10,000, ADHD ~4 per 10,000), yet awareness is shockingly low, with only 0.26% knowing about disability support systems like the Unique Disability ID scheme (Times of India, 2025).

Meanwhile, broader Indian estimates suggest that nearly one in eight (around 12 %) children aged 2–9 years have at least one neurodevelopmental disorder (NDD), based on a population-based study conducted across five geographically diverse regions of India (Arora et al., 2018).

The World Health Organization’s guidance on disability and neurodevelopmental conditions highlights that these conditions are widely under-recognised, especially in low- and middle-income countries.

Despite its prevalence, awareness remains uneven, particularly in rural areas, where limited access to specialists further delays diagnosis and support.

Neurodivergence is far from rare. Indian and global research from the last five years consistently shows that neurodevelopmental conditions affect a significant proportion of children and adults, often undiagnosed or mislabelled (de Souza & Velho, 2024; Botha et al., 2023).

Yet in Indian homes, difference is often seen not as variation but as risk.

  • family reputation
  • school admission
  • marriage prospects
  • social belonging

Parents don’t ask, “What support does my child need?”
They ask, “What will people say if they find out?”

That fear is not irrational. It is learned.

Unlike overt discrimination, Indian stigma is subtle and relentless.

It shows up as:

  • “Don’t tell the school; they’ll treat him differently.”
  • “This label will follow her forever.”
  • “Every child is like this-why make a big issue?”

Recent Indian studies highlight how a lack of awareness, combined with moral judgment, leads families to hide Neurodivergent Child Diagnoses even after clinical confirmation (Patel, 2025). Neurodivergence is often framed as:

  • bad parenting
  • lack of discipline
  • spiritual punishment
  • something to “grow out of”

When stigma lives inside family conversations, silence feels safer than truth.

In many Indian households, mothers become the keepers of this secret.

Research from India shows that primary caregivers, especially mothers, experience higher levels of stress, burnout, and physical health problems when raising neurodivergent children without social support (Times of India, 2025).

They:

  • Attend therapy secretly
  • Avoid family gatherings
  • Stop correcting misinformation
  • Carry blame and judgment to shield their child from stigma

One mother in a qualitative study said:

“I feel like I’m protecting everyone else at the cost of myself.”

Hiding the diagnosis doesn’t reduce the burden.
It concentrates it onto one exhausted person.

Organisations such as the Autism Society of India have repeatedly highlighted gaps in teacher training and inclusive classroom practices.

For many families, school is the breaking point.

Indian research and policy reports show that schools remain unevenly prepared to support neurodivergent learners, despite inclusive education policies (NCERT, 2023).

Parents worry:

  • Will my child be labelled “problematic”?
  • Will teachers lower their expectations?
  • Will other parents complain?

As a result, many delay assessments, withdraw support plans, or instruct children to mask their traits, mirroring global findings on camouflaging behaviour, which is linked to anxiety and depression later in life (Hull et al., 2022).

The cost of fitting in is often the child’s mental health.

Silence doesn’t end with childhood.

Indian adults, especially women, are increasingly being diagnosed with ADHD and autism later in life. A 2025 study on Indian women with ADHD revealed that many spent decades believing they were:

  • lazy
  • careless
  • too much

They hid struggles to survive social expectations of being:

  • organised
  • emotionally regulated
  • self-sacrificing

Late diagnosis brought relief but also grief for years spent pretending (Patel, 2025).

Globally, studies confirm that fear of discrimination keeps many neurodivergent adults from disclosing diagnoses at work, even when support could improve outcomes (Botha et al., 2023).

Silence becomes a lifelong habit.

When families hide Neurodivergent Child Diagnoses:

  • Early intervention is delayed
  • Self-esteem erodes
  • Families become isolated
  • Children internalise shame

Research is clear: early acceptance and support significantly improve quality of life, learning outcomes, and emotional well-being (WHO, 2022).

The harm does not come from the diagnosis.
It comes from pretending it doesn’t exist.

India is not standing still.

In the last few years:

  • Community-based awareness programmes have increased
  • Universities and workplaces have begun neurodiversity initiatives
  • Parent-led platforms and support networks are growing

More importantly, families are beginning to speak-quietly, carefully, but honestly.

Every time a parent says:

“My child’s brain works differently, and that’s okay.”

The silence cracks a little.

The real question is not:
“Should we hide the diagnosis?”

It is:
“What kind of future does silence create?”

A future where children learn early that parts of them are unacceptable.
Or one where difference is met with understanding, not fear.

The burden has never been the diagnosis.
The burden has always been carrying it alone.

For more articles and upcoming resources, visit our homepage https://neuronesthub.com/ at NeuroNestHub.

Botha, M., et al. (2023). Disclosing an autism diagnosis: A social identity approach. Autism Research, 16(5), 987–1001.

Arora, N. K., Nair, M. K. C., Gulati, S., et al. (2018). Neurodevelopmental disorders in children aged 2–9 years: Population-based burden estimates across five regions in India. PLOS Medicine, 15(7), e1002615.

Hull, L., et al. (2022). Camouflaging and mental health in autistic individuals. Autism, 26(4), 955–969.

Patel, R. (2025). “Being in my own skin”: Experiences of Indian women with ADHD. Journal of Mental Health & Culture.

The Times of India. (2025). Caregiving for children with developmental disabilities often wears out mothers.

The Times of India. (2025). India’s epidemiological survey on child development conditions.

World Health Organisation. (2022). Guidelines on neurodevelopmental conditions.

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