The ND Mom’s Guide to Holiday Boundaries: Scripts for When You’re Overstimulated and Everyone Wants Something

The thing about holiday gatherings when you’re neurodivergent is that everyone else seems to be operating on a completely different sensory plane than you are.

They’re laughing at full volume in a room with seven conversations happening at once, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, someone’s wearing perfume that smells like a Bath & Body Works exploded, there’s a child screaming in the next room, and your aunt keeps asking you why you’re “so quiet” while simultaneously expecting you to perform enthusiasm about her new timeshare.

Meanwhile, you’re trying to calculate how much longer you have to stay before it’s socially acceptable to leave, monitoring your nervous system like it’s a gas tank on empty, and wondering if you can get away with hiding in the bathroom for ten minutes without anyone noticing.

If you’re also trying to simplify the emotional load of the season, my post on low-key holiday traditions for real families might help you reset expectations.

This is the part of the holidays no one talks about when they’re posting their perfect family photos on Instagram. The sensory hell. The masking fatigue. The way your brain just stops cooperating after too many hours of forced social performance.

So here’s what I wish someone had told me before I spent years forcing myself through holiday gatherings that left me completely non-functional for days afterward: you’re allowed to protect your nervous system. You’re allowed to have boundaries. And you’re allowed to use scripts that actually work instead of trying to come up with socially acceptable explanations on the spot when your brain has already clocked out.

Why Holiday Boundaries Matter for Neurodivergent Moms

Here’s the thing about being a neurodivergent mom during the holidays: you’re not just managing your own sensory load and executive function. You’re also managing everyone else’s expectations, your kid’s needs, the family dynamics, and the invisible labor of making sure everyone has a good time.

And because you’ve probably spent most of your life masking — learning to seem “normal,” learning to push through discomfort, learning to not make other people uncomfortable with your needs — the idea of actually saying “I need to leave” or “I can’t do this” feels impossible.

Add in the fact that most people don’t understand what sensory overload actually feels like (it’s not just “a little overwhelmed,” it’s your entire nervous system melting down), and you end up in situations where you’re trying to explain something that sounds ridiculous even to you. “I need to leave because the overhead lights are too bright and someone’s sweater is making a noise I can’t handle” is not a sentence most neurotypical people are going to take seriously.

So you don’t say anything. You push through. You hit shutdown or meltdown later. And then you spend the next week recovering while feeling guilty about “ruining” the holidays.

This year, we’re not doing that bestie.

If you’re new to using AI for emotional or executive support, my AI 101 Guide for Moms explains how to use tools like ChatGPT without the overwhelm.

Scripts You Can Use When You’re Overstimulated

I asked ChatGPT to help me generate some boundary scripts specifically for ND moms navigating holiday gatherings. These are designed to be:

• Direct enough that you’re not hinting (which never works btw)
• Polite enough that you’re not burning bridges
• Vague enough that you’re not explaining your entire neurotype to someone who won’t get it

You can use these word-for-word or adjust them based on your family dynamics. The point is to have something ready so you’re not trying to come up with language when you’re already overstimulated.

When you need to leave early:

“I’m hitting my limit and need to head out. Thanks for having us — it was good to see everyone.”

No explanation about why. No apology for existing. Literally just a statement of fact. If they push back, you can add: “Yeah, I’ve learned I do better when I listen to my body about this stuff.”

When you need a sensory break during the event:

“I’m going to step outside for a few minutes. I’ll be back.”

You don’t owe anyone an explanation for needing air, quiet, or space. If someone asks if you’re okay: “Yeah, just needed a reset. I’m good.”

When someone keeps asking why you’re quiet:

“I’m just taking it all in. I do better when I’m not talking constantly.”

This one’s nice because it reframes your quietness as intentional instead of something being wrong with you. If they keep pushing: “I promise I’m fine. This is just how I recharge.”

When someone criticizes your parenting in a way that disregards your kid’s (or your) ND needs:

“We’ve found what works for our family. I know it looks different, but it’s working for us.”

Firm. Not defensive. Not inviting debate. If they keep going: “I appreciate the concern, but we’ve got this.”

When someone insists you stay longer and you’re already past your limit:

“I wish I could, but I’m maxed out. If I stay longer I’ll be useless for days.”

This one’s more vulnerable, but sometimes naming the cost helps people understand. If they still don’t get it: “Yeah, I’ve learned the hard way that I need to respect my limits.”

When you need to skip an event entirely:

“I’m not going to make it this year. I hope you all have a great time.”

No justification. No elaborate excuse. Just a clear no. If they ask why: “I’m prioritizing what I can actually handle this season.”

When someone’s perfume/cologne is triggering sensory overload:

“Hey, I have a sensitivity to strong scents — would you mind if we moved to a different spot?”

If that doesn’t work and you can’t escape: “I need to step out for a bit. The smell is getting to me.” Most people won’t understand, but that’s okay. Your nervous system is more important than their feelings about their fragrance choice.

When you’re getting overstimulated and need people to stop touching you:

“I’m touched out right now — can we do a wave instead of a hug?”

If they look offended: “It’s not personal, I just hit my limit for physical contact.” You don’t owe anyone access to your body, even during the holidays.

When family keeps asking intrusive questions about your life/choices:

“I’m not really getting into that today, but I appreciate you thinking of me.”

This works for everything from “when are you having another baby” to “why don’t you work full time” to “have you tried not being autistic.” If they won’t let it go: “Like I said, not discussing it. How about that weather?”

How to Recover After Setting a Boundary

Here’s the part no one tells you: after you set a boundary, you’re probably going to feel guilty. You’re going to worry that you were rude, that you hurt someone’s feelings, that you’re a bad daughter/sister/niece/whatever.

That guilt is not evidence that you did something wrong. That guilt is evidence that you’ve spent your whole life being conditioned to prioritize other people’s comfort over your own survival.

You’re allowed to leave early. You’re allowed to skip events. You’re allowed to say no to hugs, to small talk, to performing enthusiasm you don’t feel. You’re allowed to protect your nervous system even when other people don’t understand why you need to.

And if someone gets upset about your boundaries, that’s information about them, not about you.

If you want language for everyday chaos too, grab the free 7 Game-Changing Neurospicy Mom Prompts — they’re designed for the moments when talking feels impossible.

The Prompt (For Generating Your Own Scripts)

If you want to create scripts tailored to your specific family dynamics or situations, here’s what I asked ChatGPT:

“Generate 10 polite but firm boundary scripts for a neurodivergent mom navigating holiday gatherings. Include scripts for sensory overload, needing to leave early, declining physical touch, and dealing with intrusive questions. Keep them direct, non-apologetic, and practical for someone who’s already overstimulated.”

You can adjust it to include your specific triggers, your family’s communication style, or particular situations you know you’ll encounter. The point is to have the language ready before you need it, because trying to articulate your needs in the moment when you’re already overwhelmed is basically impossible.

If you’re curious how I use AI to take the pressure off days like this, I wrote a full breakdown on why I use ChatGPT for parenting and how it supports my executive function.

You’re Not Ruining Anything

If you set a boundary and someone gets upset, you didn’t ruin the holidays. They’re upset because they expected you to keep sacrificing your wellbeing for their comfort, and you refused to do that.

If you leave early because you’re overstimulated, you didn’t ruin the gathering. You protected yourself from days of shutdown that would have impacted your ability to function.

If you say no to an event entirely, you didn’t ruin the family tradition. You made a choice that honors your actual capacity instead of some imaginary version of yourself that can handle unlimited sensory input and social performance.

The holidays are hard enough without spending them in survival mode. You’re allowed to make them survivable. Even if that means disappointing people who don’t understand what you’re protecting yourself from.

If holiday gatherings fry your nervous system, join Motherboard HQ and I’ll send you tools that actually help:

• bonus scripts for tricky family dynamics
• ChatGPT prompts for shutdown prevention
• tools for managing sensory overload and social pressure

ND-friendly, executive-function-friendly, and built for moms who don’t have time for long emails.

Written by Shae — AuDHD alt millennial mom, developer, M.S. in Psychology. Fascinated by using AI to translate developmental research into survival tools for parents. Real experience where she’s lived it, evidence-based prompts where she hasn’t.