When friendships feel like too much work

Published February 3rd, 2026 / A neuroaffirming therapist’s perspective on supporting social & friendship skills

Friendship requires effort. This isn’t controversial, adults understand that maintaining relationships takes time, energy and emotional labor. But when neurodivergent children express this same reality, they're often met with concern, correction, or well-meaning attempts to convince them otherwise.

Recently, a young client said plainly: "Having friends is too much work."

She wasn't being defiant. She was stating a fact about her lived experience, one that deserves to be taken seriously rather than fixed.

The Invisible Labor of Connection

For neurotypical children, much of friendship happens on autopilot. Social scripts download seamlessly. Body language reads like a familiar language. Energy expenditure feels manageable, sometimes even rejuvenating.

For neurodivergent children, every interaction can be a conscious choreography. It can feel like an unrehearsed dance performed on a big stage.

Remember which classmate doesn't like to be touched. Decode whether that laugh was with you or at you. Manage the fluorescent lights and cafeteria noise while also trying to follow conversation. Make eye contact, but not too much. Laugh at the right time. Don't talk too long about a special interest or whatever you're actually excited about. Read the room. Adjust. Perform. Mask.

Then go home and collapse.

When neurodivergent children say friendship is exhausting, they aren't being dramatic. They're naming the gap between what friendship costs them and what it costs others. And honestly? As therapists, parents and teachers, I think we owe it to them to listen.

The Question We Should Actually Be Asking

Here's what we don't do at Interconnect Therapy: try to convince children they need friends.

Here's what we do instead: ask them what they want.

Not every child wants the same social life. Not every child dreams of birthday parties and sleepovers and a packed lunch table. Some genuinely prefer solitude. Some want one deep friendship instead of five shallow ones. Some want friends exclusively for trading Pokemon cards, and you know what? That counts.

All of these preferences are valid.

The work only begins when a child says, in their own words and their own time: I want this. I want connection. I'm just not sure how to get there without losing myself in the process.

Kind Friends and Unkind Friends

When a child does express interest in building friendships, we start with discernment. It's possibly the most important skill they'll ever learn.

Not all friendships are created equal. We talk about kind, helpful friends versus unkind or unsupportive ones. Kind friends meet you where you are. Unkind friends demand you contort yourself to meet them where they are. Helpful friends feel like a welcomed hug. Unsupportive ones feel like a performance review you didn't study for.

We teach children (neurodivergent and neurotypical alike) to notice the difference.

How do you feel after spending time with this person?

Do they make space for who you actually are, or only the version they prefer?

Can you stim, talk about your interests, say when you need a break, or do you have to become smaller and quieter and more convenient?

We use simple language: kind friends fill your cup. Unkind friends drain it. We practice the radical, uncomfortable act of stepping back from people who consistently leave them depleted. Even if those people are popular. Even if they're "nice" on the surface. Even if they sit right next to them in class and it'll be awkward.

This isn't cynicism. It's survival. And it applies at every age, forever.

The Permission to Choose

What strikes me most working with neurodivergent children is how rarely they've been given permission to choose their own social path.

They're told they "need" to make friends. Pushed toward group activities they find overwhelming. Corrected when they stim. Reminded to smile more. Encouraged to "try harder" to fit in. The message, however unintentionally delivered, becomes clear: who you are isn't enough. You need to be different to deserve connection.

We flip that script in our sessions & groups.

You don't have to want a lot of friends. You don't have to want any friends. You don't have to perform neurotypical to access human connection. You're allowed to want relationships that honor your sensory needs, your communication style, your interests, your actual energy levels.

And if you do want friends? We'll work on skills… real, practical skills for initiating conversation, maintaining connections, navigating conflict, advocating for your needs. But we do it in service of your goals, not someone else's vision of what your social life should look like. Sorry moms and dads with expectations! That is for you to manage, not your child.

What Success Actually Looks Like

That eight-year-old who told me friendship was too much work?

By the end of our time together, she hadn't transformed into a social butterfly. She didn't suddenly have a dozen friends or start hosting sleepovers.

But she identified one classmate who "got her," a kind, helpful friend. She learned to tell that classmate when she needed space and when she wanted to connect. She practiced saying no to unkind or draining interactions. She discovered that friendship on her terms: small doses, intentional, honest, didn't feel like work after all.

Neurodivergent children don't need to learn how to be better at neurotypical friendships. They need tools to build authentic connections in ways that honor who they are. They need permission to want what they want, not what they're told to want.

And they need adults who will sit with them in their exhaustion and say: You're not wrong. It is hard. And you get to decide if it's worth it.

That's not giving up on connection. That's making space for it to happen authentically, on terms that don't require them to abandon themselves in the process.

Thanks for tuning in!

Taylour

In our neuroaffirming practice, we support children in developing friendship skills, but only on their terms, at their pace and in alignment with their authentic selves. Because the goal isn't more friends. It's more peace. Reach out to connect and learn more about our services.