I suspect some of you may feel a tightening in your chest just reading the headline above; perhaps a memory rising of a morning that felt impossibly heavy or an evening that ended in frustrated tears.Let me say it gently: parenting can be lonely. And while there are certainly people who go days without seeing another person – and that kind of isolation is deeply painful – there is another kind of loneliness that is far more subtle and much harder to articulate unless you have lived it.This is the loneliness of walking into a room full of people and still feeling unseen. It is the loneliness that arises in the midst of the school runs, birthday parties and appointments, when everything you do should be visible yet somehow your inner world feels invisible.That quiet, persistent ache is familiar to many families parenting children with SEND (special educational needs and disability), including those with ADHD, and it brings with it a form of loneliness inflected by guilt and often anxiety.This is not an article about blame – not of children, not of parents – but about the heavy load carried when we feel ‘other’ as a parent.Of course we feel grateful. It is true that we are lucky and that we love our children deeply. Yet we are also human, and some moments are unbearably hard, and some days exhaust us to our core.When we don’t feel grateful in a given moment, or when we don’t enjoy our parenting in the way we think we should, it can turn inward and make us feel that something is wrong with us.Often, there is also the sting of being misunderstood: of having our experience minimised, or told – gently or sharply – that we are overreacting, not coping well enough, not doing things the “right” way.Many parents learn to wear a socially acceptable mask, to show up as though all is well – especially when judgement comes from those we most want to understand us: our own parents, in-laws, friends and wider family.And when the challenges of parenting a child with SEND put strain on relationships, that loneliness can quietly seep into partnerships too.Research indicates that parents of children with disabilities experience significantly higher levels of stress and relationship strain, and that couples with a child with ADHD are more likely to separate earlier than parents whose children do not have ADHD.This is not about placing blame on children; it is about naming systems and societal expectations that do not support families as well as they should.Let me be clear: this is about the loneliness that comes from feeling that the full truth of your experience – the joy and the exhaustion, the love and the frustration – cannot be spoken aloud without apology.We are taught that if we are “blessed and grateful” to have children, then enjoyment should naturally follow. But let me ask you: who among us enjoys every part of their life or work? Parenting is a privilege, yes – and it is also emotional, relentless labour.That loneliness often does not arise because someone misses a spontaneous night out. It emerges from the sense that the hardest parts of parenting can only be whispered about, usually behind the closed door of a therapy room.When we begin to talk about our experience, most of us start with the same careful preface: “I love my children and I feel lucky to have them… but…”I have said those words too.What is perhaps hardest to hold is that loneliness can coexist with joy. You might feel lonely while celebrating that your child walked into school that morning without tears, came home happy, or accomplished something that once felt impossible. You might feel lonely even in the warmth of a hug.I have sat in my car after the school drop-off crying because my child could not face the day, and I have also cried in that same car when they walked through the school gates for a full week – not masking, but feeling safe and supported.Both moments were real. Both moments were lonely.Loneliness is not about the number of people around you. It is about whether your whole self – the tender parts, the messy parts, the parts you are taught to hide – is seen and understood. It is the ache of wanting to do what is best for your child while feeling like you are carrying much of it alone or with only your partner at your side.This is why support networks matter so deeply for SEND parents. Whether it is an online community where your experience needs no explanation, or a real-life coffee with someone who simply gets it, connection can soften loneliness in ways advice never can. Being alongside others who recognise your reality does not take the difficulty away, but it can make it feel more bearable.If our conversations about parenting – especially parenting children with SEND – were more honest, fewer parents might feel this level of isolation.Often, loneliness looks like competence. It looks like coping. And if this resonates with you, please know this: you are not failing. You are responding to a reality that is far harder than most people realise.What matters deeply is not perfection, but support, understanding, and the freedom to say without apology: “This is hard.”Gee Eltringham is a SEN psychotherapist and founder of the parental support platform, twigged.Related…I’m A Therapist Who’s Seeing More ‘Cocooned’ Kids In Clinic – It’s HeartbreakingThere’s A Generation Of ‘Cocooned’ Children. We Need To Help Them Become ButterfliesGirls With ADHD Often Present With A Subtle Sign That Can Easily Be Missed HuffPost UK – Athena2 – All Entries (Public) Read More