Independence is one of the most celebrated milestones in our culture. From the first steps of a toddler to leaving home as a young adult, society perceives doing things alone as a measure of success. Children are encouraged to dress themselves, make their own lunches and manage small responsibilities without help. Adults are praised for living alone, managing finances and navigating public life independently.
For neurodivergent people, the pressure to be independent is relentless. Support needs are only acknowledged as temporary obstacles to overcome rather than natural parts of human life. Needing help is seen as a failure, while doing everything alone is seen as the ultimate goal.
Have we completely misunderstood what independence actually means? No one is fully independent. Every person relies on others, from the systems that produce our food to the people who provide emotional support. Real growth and well-being are not measured by how little support someone needs, but by whether they can live safely, with dignity and with the agency to make choices about their own life.
This article explores why we need to unlearn the traditional concept of independence, reframing it around autonomy, agency and sustainable support, and provides practical exercises to implement this perspective in daily life.
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The hidden cost of chasing independence
The pressure to appear independent can have serious consequences:
Shame: People internalise messages that needing help is a flaw and it makes them burdens. Children may feel embarrassed asking for accommodations while adults may hide the supports they still rely on.
Exhaustion: Performing tasks alone that could be done more effectively with support leads to fatigue and burnout.
Isolation: Independence-focused systems discourage collaborative problem-solving and interdependence, inadvertently creating loneliness.
Safety risks: Children or adults may be pushed into situations they cannot manage safely, simply to prove their independence.
Take this for example: a 14-year-old forced to navigate public transport alone may experience anxiety or panic. An adult told to manage everything themselves in an unfamiliar environment may avoid opportunities entirely. In both cases, the insistence on independence is harmful, not empowering.
Interdependence as a human norm
The idea that a person’s value lies in being completely independent, able to live, work, and survive without help, is a modern invention. Historically, human societies have always relied on interdependence. Communities thrived because people shared labour, resources and care. A farmer depended on their neighbour’s craftsmanship, a child relied on the village for safety, elders were supported by extended kin networks. Survival was never a singular act. It was a collective one.
Even in more recent history, households functioned through webs of interdependence. Grandparents caring for grandchildren, neighbours sharing meals, communities pooling resources in times of crisis. The expectation that every individual should do everything alone, in isolation, is tied more to industrialisation and neo-liberal ideals of productivity than to human reality.
This matters because the narrative of total independence is not just unrealistic but also ahistorical. When we demand that disabled or neurodivergent people prove their worth through independence, we’re enforcing a standard that no community in history has actually lived by. We all rely on others for food, healthcare, emotional support, connection and safety. The difference is that when non-disabled people depend on others, it’s often invisible or normalised. When disabled people depend on others, it is pathologised.
Reframing independence through the lens of interdependence corrects the distortion. It reminds us that genuine thriving has always been rooted in shared support, collective responsibility and the freedom to both give and receive help without shame. When we look at interdependence as mutual support and collaboration, it becomes a strength rather than a liability.
Autonomy and agency
Unlearning independence does not mean rejecting skill-building, responsibility or growth. It means letting go of the narrow, ableist definition of independence as doing everything without help. The real goal is not to perform every task alone but to have meaningful control over one’s own life, right?
Autonomy is about choice, the ability to decide what matters, how life is lived and which supports feel right. Agency is about power, the right to say yes or no, to ask for help without shame and to shape one’s environment in ways that allow dignity and safety. When autonomy and agency come first, independence is no longer measured by how little support someone needs but by how much ownership they have over their decisions.
For example, a child who chooses elastic laces over traditional shoelaces is not avoiding independence. They are practising it by directing their own comfort and accessibility. An adult who decides that supported housing offers a safer, richer quality of life than living alone is not less capable. They are exercising agency by refusing a model of independence that doesn’t work for them. Both choices reflect strength and self-awareness.
Moving from independence as isolation to independence as agency changes the entire framework of success. Instead of glorifying self-sufficiency at all costs, success becomes about informed decision-making, boundary-setting and knowing when and how to access support. This is the model where freedom is found in connection, choice and dignity.
Everyday examples of interdependence and agency
School: A child uses peer support and a visual schedule to transition between classes. They are demonstrating agency in choosing strategies that work for them.
Home: A teenager asks a sibling to help with cooking. They remain involved in planning and preparation, but support ensures they avoid distress and overwhelm.
Work: An adult uses a job coach or adaptive technology to complete tasks efficiently. Support allows them to focus on strengths rather than struggle unnecessarily.
Community: A neurodivergent or disabled person travels with a companion to manage sensory and environmental challenges. Planning, strategy and shared responsibility all reflect agency.
These examples show that autonomy and interdependence are compatible and that the ability to rely on support can coexist with self-direction and meaningful choice.
I have put together a short practical reflection & exercises handout that help put the principles of unlearning independence into practice.
Unlearning independence doesn't start and end with individuals. Schools, healthcare services, workplaces and society as a whole need to stop using independence as the sole measure of growth. Instead, they should ask:
Does this person have choice and control over their life?
Are their needs being met in ways that protect dignity and well-being?
Are they supported in a way that allows meaningful participation?
By validating support and celebrating interdependence, we can dismantle shame and redefine what it means to thrive.
Unlearning the obsession with doing everything alone allows neurodivergent people, and all people frankly, to thrive in ways that are sustainable, dignified and connected.
Support is not failure. Asking for help is not weakness. Independence is not doing everything alone. True independence is having control over your life, making choices that matter and using support as a tool to live fully and meaningfully.
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Love this post so much! I feel every bit of what you've written, on behalf of my 18 year old.
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