The Power of Vision
Using Visualization to Launch a Neurodiverse Teen
On our last night together, Ellie and I played our secret game.
Just before I drove away from Ellie’s college dorm, before the tearful hugs and the struggle to say the words “goodbye,” we talked about someone named Mary and considered what she might do tomorrow.
Mary is not a friend or a cousin or a roommate. Mary is an imaginary character that my 19-year-old daughter and I created. Even though it might seem bizarre to discuss imaginary characters with an emerging adult, it’s an unconventional way to engage in a practice called visioning. I created it on a whim, as an indirect, playful way to encourage Ellie to overcome negative thinking about how she might manage her health conditions in college. At the time, I didn’t realize that I was also incorporating one of the strategies of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, which uses role-play to “prepare for potentially problematic situations.”1 I just knew, deep down, that Ellie needed a way to visualize a successful future for herself, one that didn’t include parental lectures.
The Visualization Game
On a July afternoon, I glanced at Ellie. “Remember when you were younger and we made up stories? When one of us started a story using Story Cubes, and then you or your siblings told the next part and passed it on?” I remembered unexpected character additions, outrageous plot twists, and elongated endings.
Ellie shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Let’s play that game again around college,” I said.
“That’s kind of weird, Mom.”
“But it could be fun.” I looked at her. “Come on, let’s just try it.”
She groaned.
“What’s our character’s name?” I asked.
She sighed. “Mary.”
Soon, we had decided that Mary was similar but a little bit different from Ellie: a transfer student with the same health conditions, a neurodiverse kid with social anxiety who was just hoping to survive a new school year. But she was also not Ellie: she had a different name, a different hometown, a different major. Somehow, it helped to create a little distance from Ellie, so we could talk more freely.
“Let’s talk about Mary’s first week at college. What does she do after her room is set up?” I asked.
Ellie scratched her arm. “She’s pretty overwhelmed by the transition. Mary doesn’t like change.”
“Understood.” I grinned at how Ellie had grown in self-awareness this year. “What happens when Mary goes to the neurodiversity group’s orientation?”
“She meets some kids and has fun,” Ellie said. “Then she wants to be alone again.”
“Let’s go back to the social event,” I said. “Maybe they start off playing a game. How does she make friends?” I wanted to help Ellie envision a positive interaction with peers. We had been swimming in a sea of anxiety around college for months.
Ellie frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe she just talks to someone?”
Be specific, my intuition said. Help her envision a path. “I think Mary asks another kid about themselves, like what they do for fun. Maybe she finds out that the other kid likes crafts as much as she does.”
“Maybe she meets another Swiftie.” Ellie’s eyes lit up. I wondered if she was about to burst into song. This happened often.
“Yes! They memorize new songs together!” I paused. “How do you think the kids react to Mary’s mobility aids?”
“I don’t know,” Ellie said. I could almost see a giant shadow of anxiety crouching behind her and hear it growl, “They will think you’re so weird.”
I said, “Maybe the other kids think that the way Ellie decorated her walker is super cool.” Ellie had spent hours covering the walker with green and purple vinyl tape and silver butterfly stickers she’d made on her Cricut machine.
Ellie sighed. “Maybe.”
I prayed that she might believe that Mary’s story could be her own.
The Power of Vision
We kept playing this game as Ellie prepared for college. I knew that Ellie’s mind was full of bad movies from last year’s college experience. I suspected that her anxiety about navigating health challenges outweighed her excitement about joining a new academic community. In the absence of books, articles and social media posts showcasing successful neurodiverse, physically disabled teens like Ellie, I figured it was up to us to create our own stories of hope. So we would create our own positive, empowering stories together.
Years ago, I was part of a leadership development program where we learned about the power of vision. We considered our present state, and then envisioned where we wanted to go in specific areas such as spiritual life, family, work, relationships, and community service. We wrote down our dreams and began to envision how we would release unhealthy patterns to step into new ways of being. We supported each other to become empowered, balanced, fulfilled people with meaningful work, authentic relationships, and joyful presence.
Holding Vision For Others
At one point, our leader taught the power of holding vision for others. He believed that having a positive vision for a loved one could have a positive impact on them, even if we never told them about it. The mere act of believing that our loved one was capable of growth could affect them more than our attempts to convince them. I’ve found that belief translates into action: if I believe that my child is capable and competent, I will treat them accordingly.
When Ellie disclosed the severity of her health conditions to the director of the neurodiversity program, Dr. J. responded with a similar sense of vision. After detailing ways the program would try to meet Ellie’s needs, Dr. J. wrote, “It will be a challenge, but let's do this! We expect that your first semester will be successful.”
Perhaps visioning is similar to prayer. We long for transformation, health or hope for our loved one and then we ask God to bring it to pass.
How to Get There
There are different ways to create a vision: focusing on the outcome (identifying the destination) or focusing on the process (how to get there). From my own experience, I suspect that many neurodiverse teens can identify their destination fairly easily. Actually, their creative or intellectual dreams might amaze us! But understanding how to reach that goal can be much more puzzling, especially if it’s outside of their usual skillset. This is true for Ellie.
In our family, we’ve tried different methods to help Ellie understand how to reach her desired outcome. We’ve relied on therapists, who ask skillful questions to guide Ellie to discover her own answers, and offer their own innovative ideas. Sometimes I’ll ask Ellie about she might navigate a potentially challenging scenario and brainstorm ideas together. Other times, she asks me for advice when she cannot see a way forward, such as how to discuss her health conditions with new friends. It is a balancing act to know when to coach her to find her own solutions and when to show her the path she is looking for.
Perhaps someday, after finding her own path through trial and error, Ellie can become an example of how to thrive in college as a neurodiverse, disabled student. Maybe when she is a senior, she will coach a terrified freshman and ask them about what their “Mary” will do in college.
I’d love to hear about your experiences in creating vision for yourself or helping someone else find their path.
P.S. Before you go, please tap the little ♡. It offers “social proof” and lets others know there’s something useful here. Thanks!
P.P.S. I just published this essay in Mutha Magazine about what I really wanted to say to the summer camp that hesitated to accept my daughter because of her mental health challenges. Check it out!
P.P.S. WELCOME NEW FRIENDS! So glad you are here! :)
https://www.apa.org/ptsd-guideline/patients-and-families/cognitive-behavioral
Great post, Serena. Grounding and simple to apply!
In the old work context, in annual strategy cycles, we'd use 'Vision' and 'Strategy' in a templated process and framework to align actions for the coming year. The 'corporate' conditioning tends to shroud the essentials and primary intent of why it's a valuable exercise.
The 'fun' part I used to do with my teams: as a group we'd call out soundbites of what we'd want to hear people say about our team and our work at the end of the year, or I'd ask individuals to write a short letter to themselves as if it was the end of the year, highlighting what success looks like and what they needed to overcome challenges. Of course, we saved the sound bites and the letters for the end-of-the-year debrief/Team meeting.
Thanks for reminding me that visualising success is also a great way to define what good can look like. (not a goal or quantitative measure) Qualitative imagining is powerful!
Serena, such eloquent and essential perspective:
“Perhaps visioning is similar to prayer. We long for transformation, health or hope for our loved one and then we ask God to bring it to pass.”
Faith.