Motherness: A Memoir of Generational Autism, Parenthood, and Radical Acceptance

by Julie M. Green

A funny, unflinchingly honest, and deeply compassionate memoir about one woman’s experience of raising an autistic child while discovering she is also “on the spectrum”


Almost 10 years after learning that her son is autistic, Julie Green was also diagnosed, shedding light on a lifetime of feeling othered and misunderstood. Motherness traces Julie’s journey from childhood to early motherhood, when she must advocate for her son while navigating her own struggles.


With more girls and women being diagnosed in the last decade — many of them later in life — the face of autism is changing. Motherness provides a rich, intensely personal account of what it is like to be autistic, through the lens of both a mother and child. Topics include sensory processing, meltdowns and shutdowns, masking, empathy, alexithymia, bullying, elopement, special interests, disordered eating, gender diversity, twice exceptionality, and more.


Motherness is a story about accepting your child while learning to accept yourself. This extraordinary, groundbreaking memoir speaks to the great challenges and great joys of autism, providing valuable insights to parents of autistic children, adults newly diagnosed or questioning their place on the spectrum, and anyone seeking a greater understanding of neurodiversity.

Genres: Memoir, Autistic Spectrum Disorder, Nonfiction

288 pages, Paperback

Published September 23, 2025

Reviews

[fede · Rating 4 out of 5]

➳ four stars

this one comes out on september 23rd

a beautifully written memoir about the life of a late-diagnosed autistic mother raising her autistic child. in each chapter green focuses on one topic (like special interests or sensory processing), this allows her to explore her child’s experiences but also her own. the book is a personal account of what it means to be autistic, focusing on the joys and difficulties that come with being neurodivergent. there are a hundred ways to be neurodivergent and the author highlights the importance of accepting yourself, no matter how difficult it can be in our society. definitely would recommend to anyone who enjoys reading memoirs and is interested in learning more about neurodiversity and acceptance.

ARC kindly sent by the publisher. all opinions are my own!

[Aoife · Rating 4 out of 5]

“You are 36 and you have never built a sandcastle. But you came close once.”

There are so many books out right now about ASD/Autism/Neurodiversity and in particular about women being diagnosed late in life, but this book goes a little bit further by exploring one mother’s journey of caring for her son whilst also coming to terms with her own diagnosis and where she struggled, lost out and was nearly left behind.

For fans of Christine McGuinness who you may have seen briefly discuss her diagnosis on Celebs Go Dating or in her book: A Beautiful Nightmare, comes a more realistic lens. We hear about the sacrifices, the struggles, the skirting around the issue, coming to terms with medicating her child and finally learning to unmask.

It’s an eye opening read that explores the important topics of late diagnosis, caring for a child on the spectrum, the sacrifice of motherhood and self and learning to unmask.

[Mary Taggart · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a must read! Julie is thoughtful and generous as she explores and exposes the challenges of parenting an autistic child and ultimately discovering her own identity as an adult on the spectrum. Julie’s humour and accessible writing make this easy to read while the content tugs at the heart and opens our minds to a deeper understanding of raising special needs children. I finished the book with a greater appreciation for quiet and not so quiet struggles- Thank you, Julie

[Gee Rothvoss · Rating 5 out of 5]

Written from a place of motherly love, heartwrenching honesty and empowerment, "Motherness" is a book I am certainly going to be pestering every single fellow therapist I know for a very, very long time. Unique in its mix of self-discovery and parenting journeys, this book feels like biting into an ice-cream that's fresh out of the freezer: it sends a jolt through your whole body, and leaves you unable to think about anything else for a while.

As both the mother to an autistic child, and an autistic person herself, Julie M. Green hits the shelves with her family's story. Nobody prepared her or her husband for what raising an autistic child takes, but as one keps turning the pages and learning more about Mrs. Green's parenting journey, it's made abundantly clear that both her and her husband did their best and kept in mind their endgoal, which was their child's well-being. When Carson was diagnosed as autistic as a toddler, the Green family found themselves trying to navigate an allistic world that was neither ready, nor willing, to acommodate their child. Most people don't realise how hard it is to live with an invisible disability, or think that all autistic people are carbon copies of Sheldon Cooper whose autism is just a compilation of "quirks" and minor oddities. Consequently, autistic people and their families often face stigma and even discrimination as a result of autistic traits that are assumed as malicious or immature by others. When a child starts crying loudly at the supermarket, how many of us turn our heads to frown at the grown-up they are with for it? How often do we take offence when a pre-teen "talks back", and asks us for a reason why they should do things the way we tell them to? Aren't we, as a society, continuously singling out those who fail to "read the room" and end up saying or doing the wrong things? Don't we have a tendency to dislike anyone whose facial expressions are hard to read?

These are merely the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the myriad ways in which our society fails autistic people, and in this book Julie Green explores the many barriers that autistic people are faced with as a result. From non-verbal communication to unspoken social norms about touching, personal space, how much honesty is too much and whether eye contact is as big of a deal as allistic people make it out to be - this book explores what it means to be autistic in a world that is rarely ever ready for it. Something I was a big fan of was how Green peppered the book with scientific research that was, from what I could see at the end of the book, quite recent as well as methodologically robust. For some reason there are many people who still think that autism is the mothers' fault, or that it's a fancy way to describe poor parenting. In the face of such prevalent and ignorant opinions, this book doesn't shy away from describing the different sides of autism and how it makes autistic folks feel whenever allistic people react negatively to them.

Another thing that was lovely was Green's sincere account of her struggles as she and her husband did their best to support Carson. In this regard, it was quite moving to learn how harmful many of the so-called "therapies" for autistic people can be. Being a therapist with specific training in disability and diversity myself, I wish I could make every single colleague I know read this book. There is still a very prevalent view of autism as a disorder, rather than a neurotype that isn't any less just because it's different, and there are still far too many trained professionals whose approach is based entirely on supressing as much of the person's autism as possible through desensitization, exposure therapy, stim suppression and similarly aversive practices. While there might be some behaviours worth modifying or some horizons worth expanding for the person's own sake (such as stimming that entails harm to oneself or others, or severe ARFID that might lead to malnutrition and nutritional deficiencies), many others are harmless and do not merit being supressed.

Overall this is an extremely powerful book, and I am most definitely going to be purchasing a physical copy for my personal library as both a therapist, and a human being who wants to know how to make the world a little kinder for those who are treated harshly. I encourage everyone to read it, then lend their friends their copy!

[Natalie Cichy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I don’t know how Julie M. Green did it, but she told my tale by blending my experiences, with those of my kids, despite them being entirely her own. Green reaches an emotional depth in her authenticity of discovering Autism, with Motherness, that no other author has done for me. She intricately summons parallels in the details, sometimes in their startling accuracy, but more often in the feelings they invoke in me, as they unearth memories; each churning in my stomach, stomping across my chest, and aching within my heart as I feel all the feelings. I love how Green demonstrates the interwoven complexity of it all — and makes no apologies for how messy it all is!

I am so grateful for Green telling her story; allowing me to feel less faulty in mine.

[Michel bickerstaffe · Rating 5 out of 5]

Julie congratulations on your book, it is very well written. Having a front row seat during this time, I must also congratulate you on the excellent job you did with raising my grandson. I cannot be any prouder.

Michel Bickerstaffe

[Kate Laycoax · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading Motherness felt like someone had reached inside my brain, grabbed a handful of thoughts I’ve never fully been able to articulate, and turned them into the most validating, funny, and moving memoir. I’m not a mom, but I am neurodivergent, and I grew up with a mother who, looking back now, was clearly neurodivergent too. We just didn’t have the words for it then.

That’s part of what made this book hit so hard for me. Julie’s journey isn’t just about parenting; it’s about identity. It’s about navigating the world with a brain that processes things differently, while trying to advocate for someone else doing the same. There’s this double layer of vulnerability in her story that I found so deeply moving: advocating for her son while quietly unraveling her own long unanswered questions.

It made me stop and reflect on my own mom. What she must’ve been going through. What it was like to raise a child (me!) while also struggling to make sense of a world that wasn’t built for her either. Motherness made me emotional in a way I didn’t expect and it gave me so much more compassion and understanding for her. Like, of course she didn’t always know how to help. She didn’t have the tools, the support, or even the vocabulary we have now. She was living in a world that lacked the resources we have now, and she was overstimulated and overwhelmed but could not get what we are afforded now. This really hit home for me!

Julie is so funny, by the way. Her writing is sharp and witty without ever being dismissive or flippant. She tackles some really heavy stuff, like meltdowns, masking, disordered eating, bullying, shutdowns, with a lot of warmth and relatability. I laughed out loud more than once, even while I was underlining passages that punched me right in the gut.

I especially loved the moments when Julie described recognizing traits in herself that mirrored her son’s. It reminded me of when I’d tell my mom something I learned about my ADHD or sensory issues and she’d pause and go, “...Wait, I do that too.” It’s funny how discovering things about ourselves can create a ripple effect that helps the people around us understand themselves too.

This book doesn’t have all the answers, and it doesn’t try to. What it does offer is honest storytelling, hope, and that warm feeling of being seen and letting you know you are not alone. It’s for the late diagnosed adults, the overwhelmed parents, the people navigating dual identities, and anyone who's ever felt a little too much or not enough.

💜 5/5 stars
📚 A must read for neurodivergent individuals and their families
😂 Funny, raw, real
🧠 Perfect for those who love memoirs that make you feel like you’ve found a long lost friend

Reading Motherness felt like coming home to a truth I didn’t know I needed. I will absolutely be recommending this one to everyone I know, especially my mom!

Thank you to NetGalley, Julie M. Green, and ECW Press for the eARC of this book.

[Natalie Ann · Rating 5 out of 5]

How do I possibly review a book as beautiful and compassionate as Motherness? How can I describe the feeling of seeing myself in every page; in every experience, for the first time?

When I was diagnosed autistic at age 41, a few years after my first son and around the same time as my second son, I joked there wasn’t a manual for how to process my thoughts and feelings. Well, Julie Green just wrote it. This should be required reading for every late-diagnosed woman, for everyone who loves an autistic person, for every parent raising an autistic child, and maybe just for every human, period. God knows the world would be a more understanding place.

I laughed out loud at her child’s antics because I’ve been there; I am there. I felt her despair in those lowest moments, the kind of despair only a parent of a kid with special needs can understand. And I ached for the little girl who was “too much,” and not enough, and learned to hide it all.

Beautifully written. Brutally honest. Somehow hilarious. Read this book!

[crybabybea · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’m so very torn on this book. In a lot of ways, it does something necessary in the space of mothers writing about their autistic children. Similarly, there are very few books about the experiences of autistic women, and especially late-diagnosed autistic women. In other ways, I felt like her perspective was limited and sometimes slipped through the cracks.

When Green focuses on her own experience, the reflection really resonates. I loved the way her experience parenting Carson intertwined with her experience being late-diagnosed, how navigating Carson’s autism by their side caused her to recontextualize her own memories. I found the depiction as a late-diagnosed woman extremely validating and accurate; a diagnosis truly makes you rethink your entire life and realize just how pervasive your autistic traits were, and just how little support you received for them.

Tying it in to the complex struggle of parenting Carson was interesting and compelling, and added a lot of depth to the memoir. Overall, Motherness is full of love, empathy, and acceptance. Green’s support for Carson and the strength of their family unit shine through, making it clear that she loves her child and family deeply.

However, there were a few moments that made me raise my eyebrow at Green’s framing. Near the end, she gets a bit more opinionated, which often left me questioning. Particularly, she talks about the framing of “autism moms” and how she finds the term unfair and derogatory. She positions autism moms as being uniquely “damned if they do, damned if they don’t”. While I agree that the opinions of mothers of autistic children do matter, and that autism affects parents too, it’s disingenuous to chalk it up to people misunderstanding autism moms or being cruel to them.

There are a lot of so-called autism moms that have done very real damage to their children and to the perception of autism at large. Especially the stereotype of the “warrior mom” has often been criticized by autistic people for centering the experience of the parent as a martyr. While Green doesn’t position herself this way, she reinforces the problem by not exploring it with sufficient complexity.

Secondly, when she talked about her beliefs about labels, and her hopes for the future, it came across as naive and privileged. Autism should be normalized, autistic people should be allowed to exist unapologetically in public, and receive support and acceptance for who they are. Similarly, mothers, not just mothers of autistic children, should receive patience, grace, and even assistance when their children are experiencing emotions in public. However, I didn’t fully agree with Green’s vision of a world with no labels. Labels are double-edged: crucial for accessibility and identity, but often stigmatized. Her argument would have felt stronger if balanced with this nuance.

Finally, and most glaringly, in the ending chapter titled, “Loving the Alien”, Green talks about Carson coming out as nonbinary and how “exasperating” it was. She mentions not understanding the term, but notably not any attempts to research it. Instead, she wrote about how it annoyed her and frustrated her to be constantly corrected by Carson to use “they/them” and “my child” instead of “my son”.

It’s one thing to acknowledge the challenge of suddenly changing habits or adapting routines, but Green doesn’t stop there. She talks about how infuriating it was for her to be constantly corrected, even going so far as to say "using the plural to denote the singular defies grammatical sense I've been taught as an English major”.

Maybe she was trying to be funny, but it runs way too close to transphobic language that it left a sour taste in my mouth. Also, it’s just not accurate at all, how are you an English major and don’t know that “they” can be a singular pronoun, too? It reads as dismissive of Carson's identity, despite her attempts at acceptance.

At first it didn’t bother me, but as I sat and thought about writing this review, I realized it completely made me recontextualize the rest of the memoir. The repeated use of ‘my boy’ and he/him pronouns throughout the book, only for Carson to come out as nonbinary in the final chapter, creates a jarring contrast, which feels especially discordant when paired with the chapter’s exasperated tone.

It’s very clear that Green loves Carson very much. In many ways, she is radically accepting even when she doesn’t understand, even when it frustrates her, even when it is a struggle. I appreciated that she didn’t sugarcoat the experience but instead showed autism in all of its complexity: joy, pain, connection, and isolation. It’s much more honest than many other books about autism are. However, I was left with an empty feeling.

Honestly, the last few chapters completely ruined my experience with the book. I wished she would have stuck to her own experience, how loving her child taught her to learn to love herself, and the complexity of autism, rather than inserting her own opinions on autism as a whole. I wouldn’t expect a political analysis from a book like this, but since Green included them, I wished they had more nuance and were explored with more depth rather than feeling one-sided or rose-tinted.

Motherness will resonate powerfully for autistic women navigating motherhood or a late diagnosis; for others, it may feel limited in scope. Maybe if I were earlier on the journey of understanding autism and how it appears as a late-diagnosed woman, I would have gotten a lot more than just validation out of this. While radical in some ways, I had hoped for more depth and critical insight.

I received an ARC of this title in exchange for an honest review.

[Mike Broderick · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was looking forward to this book. This one is personal to me. I have three boys, one has always been a bit different than the other two. He is a drummer in a band, he is pretty smart, but late in high school he did not achieve as high as earlier. He was diagnosed with ADHD in grade 6 and exhibited many of the characteristics of ADHD. As an aside, I am firm in my belief that ADHD in the future, will be considered to be on the spectrum. There are so many similarities between those with ADHD and those that we consider “high functioning” autistic. As he has entered adulthood, we have often wondered if our son is on the spectrum. His older brother recently admitted to us that he has wondered that for some time.
Early in the book, the author is diagnosed as an adult with autism. She says “Impossible, I can’t be on the spectrum is your first thought. I am not Rain Man, Sheldon Cooper, or even Temple Grandin.” This is what we thought about our son. But, we are so much further ahead now, recognizing that there are so many different characteristics that make up autism and those characteristics can affect the everyday life of the person who is not diagnosed and expected to act in a certain way.
The author then goes into her main idea…..that the face of autism has always been CIS, white boys and that autistic girls and women do not exist.
Early in the book, she discusses two thoughts, first, that diagnosing girls is in the beginning stages and second, that there is no “garden, common variety” of autism. However, there are intersecting sensitivities.

Next phase of the book goes into the start of school for her son. This highlights the obvious, that we cannot possibly provide the support needed for all of the students who have needs. There is, in Canada quite a bit of funding for autism, however, the vast majority of funding is used by the highest needs children. We do see far less support (or no support) for the autistic students with less needs. The obvious problem is that less, does not mean no needs.
At times, for some reason, the author does not identify the places where they are. One example was the Elvis Festival. She talks about a town just north of Toronto……its Collingwood. Why she would not say the name, I am not sure. Then, the beach. She talks about going east, and her parents coming west and meeting at this beach. But, I do not think that the beach is actually named. This seems odd.
The overall structure of the book is cool. She discussed her son’s autism and in the same chapter she reflects back on her life. The looking back and seeing the autistic characteristics of her memories is interesting. However, there were also memories where she did not connect to her son’s behaviours or to her self actualization. Just seemed to be a memory.
The biggest issue I have is that earlier in the book, she indicates that the book theme is to discuss the lack of knowledge about girls and women with autism. However, she did not focus on that concept again until later in the book.
Overall, I enjoyed parts of this book, I thought that it could have been organized better with a focus on the main ideas throughout the book. This one sits right in the middle for me.

[Reader · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a gem of a book.

Honestly, I don't have words (because Julie M. Green seems to have stolen all the words from my mind anyway). Sometimes I take down quotes to get a more immersive reading experience, I am trying to do that a lot more now. In chapter 1, almost everything was something I wanted to take down. Julie's experience of postpartum depression, especially given that she did not know she was autistic then. The things that made her fraught, that triggered her (even if she didn't know that was what it was)--the entire experience seemed duplicated from my own life. It was like reliving those those, which, let's be honest, weren't the best for me. And while everything else that came after were deeply relatable (Julie's description of her migraine, the sensations, the description of the icepick stabbing, which is literally the same as how I always imagine when I describe my pain; that, or, a hammer bashing down the side of my skull into brain matter), there were some differences, primarily stemming from the fact that I am South Asian, and all of the generational trauma that comes with it.

I, like Julie, sought and got diagnosis after having a child, but mine came much earlier thanks to the meme-ification of the human experience. And like Julie, my partner is the thing in my life I have always been sure of. My diagnosis is still recent, however, and that means I am still seeking out explanations and understanding. It is only now that I have been able to look past my present grief to look back at my childhood. I am often filled with grief, a deep chasm of a grief: if only I had known, if only there was someone in my life who could have helped me. How different would my life be? How less unrooted would I feel?

This isn't just a memoir: though the memoir part is written so very well. Her writing is just the right amount of funny (which I recognize comes from a lifetime of not knowing what to say), and her narrative style is powerful, weaving you in, tightening and loosening the string in accordance to the events.

I want to thank Julie for this book. Thank you for writing this. It felt almost freeing to read this. And I certainly feel a lot less alone. Can't wait for September when I can get a physical copy!

[Marina Thibeault · Rating 3 out of 5]

I feel genuinely ambivalent about Motherness, and I mean that in the most respectful way.

This book is important. Deeply so. Any work that shines a light on autistic women—especially those diagnosed in adulthood—navigating motherhood alongside a neurodivergent child, fills a crucial gap in literature. Julie M. Green offers visibility where there is still far too much silence.

The writing itself is often beautiful. The author has a real gift for translating autistic traits; sensory overload, rigidity, hypersensitivity, internal dissonance into everyday scenes and moments. Through storytelling and daily life scenarios, we are invited to recognize how autism lives quietly (and sometimes loudly) within the ordinary.

And yet… I was left wanting more.

For me, the book doesn’t quite go deep enough. The choice to write largely in the second person creates a sense of distance, as if the author is deliberately stepping back from her own experience. Rather than feeling intimately invited in, I sometimes felt held at arm’s length. I found myself wondering: was this an editorial decision? Was there a cap placed on how far the stories could go?

I come to this book from a personal place. I was diagnosed as HIP (High Intellectual Potential) last year, and I actively seek out neurodivergence literature to better understand myself and my family. As the name of my neurodivergence sounds fancy, it’s not that far away from traits of autism. I also suspect one of my children may be hypersensitive and gifted as well, which brings its own set of challenges—at school, socially, and in the daily fabric of life. Perhaps because of this, I struggled to fully identify with how certain difficulties were portrayed. The struggles felt real, but sometimes detached and filtered.

That said, I am truly grateful to have crossed paths with this writer and this book. Reading a story rooted in Montreal added a layer of familiarity and warmth, and there were many moments I recognized and deeply empathized with. Motherness resonated but it didn’t quite pierce.

I can’t help but wish this book had been written with more rawness. More risk. More of the unspoken.

Still, its existence matters. And for that alone, I’m thankful it’s out in the world.

[Lia Barsotti · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read Motherness in one sitting, finding it a fascinating account of a mom and her child that was so well-written that it felt like a novel. I rooted along with the author and her fierce family!

I have lots of favorite things about this wonderful book. I admired how the author kept getting back up after falling down. She gets a lot of knocks from society for her behaviour and her son's. It is sometimes hard to read those particular parts. But she is intelligent and sensitive and keeps learning and evolving.

I learned a lot, quite frankly, and - from a reader's standpoint - the author has a finely-tuned sense as to when to bring us to the tough bits, and when to balance these with the wonderful moments. And there are many beautiful moments. She's someone who feels keenly, so this is not a dry, factual account. But it's not overdone either. For me just the right balance.

I also loved the writing itself. She moves between different times, sometimes comparing moments from her childhood with her son's, other times stepping put of herself, and writing about herself almost from the outside. I love this, because sometimes I'm pulled in with her and other times I'm watching from behind a windows. Hard to explain. I just mean you can really enjoy reading this memoir, because she has real writing chops, even if you were just drawn to the book for the subject, say.

It's great to read if you have no direct experience yourself of autism (me), or also if you do, I think. There's some science as well, which she shares with us to explain experiences from the her life, sometimes years after the fact. It's genuinely cool to discover all this with her as she looks back on the past through the fresh eyes of an autism diagnosis.

If you want a companion book to your own experiences with autism that will make you feel seen, this is it. If you want to learn more about autism in a SUPER readable way, this is also it. I loved this book! Many people in my life have neurodiversity - I'm going to be a better friend because I read this.

[Lise · Rating 5 out of 5]

Motherness by Julie M. Green is an honest, insightful, and beautifully written memoir that stayed with me long after I put it down. As a late-diagnosed autistic woman, this book hit especially close to home. I found myself pausing often—not because it was difficult to read, but because so many moments stirred recognition. Green articulates experiences and patterns of thinking that I’ve lived with for years but had never quite brought to the surface or named. That sense of being deeply seen made the reading experience both tender and powerful.

What makes Motherness stand out is its emotional clarity and quiet courage. Green doesn’t sensationalize her story or try to wrap it up neatly; instead, she writes with nuance, reflection, and compassion—for herself and for others navigating similar terrain. The prose is thoughtful and grounded, allowing complex inner experiences to unfold naturally. Of all the “autistic” memoirs I’ve read so far, this is my favorite. I would wholeheartedly recommend Motherness to anyone interested in motherhood, identity, neurodivergence, or simply a deeply human story told with care and insight.
Lise Fiola

[Ingrid Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

In Motherness, Julie M. Brown offers a deeply personal and eye-opening exploration of autism, both as a mother raising a child on the spectrum and as an adult navigating her own late diagnosis. Through her story, she reframes long-held stereotypes, challenging what we think we know about neurodiversity. Motherness left me questioning my own assumptions and considering how we can create a world where autistic individuals are truly understood, supported, and celebrated.

Of note - I read this book as an early reader, finishing in March 2025, and I have been thinking about it ever since. Even though I have been a teacher for 30 years and a parent coach for the last few and have worked with many parents and children on the spectrum I feel like this book opened my eyes in ways my own experiences never did. I couldn’t recommend it more both to people in this world of education, autism, advocacy, etc., but to everyone.

[Darlene Messenger · Rating 4 out of 5]

I received this book from the publisher for review and all thoughts and opinions are my own.
This memoir is a compassionate and often humorous account of a mother’s journey to help her autistic son and find help through community for not only him but also herself. She is eventually diagnosed with a different form of autism. Told in alternate timeline, Julie’s life is one of struggles and hope as she navigates the medical system of Canada and her desire to provide her son with the best education possible. Her struggle is real and she takes us along with her, raising awareness and instilling compassion and empathy for parents in same position. I learned much from this book and highly enjoyed reading her poignant story.

[Alexis · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book and basically read it in a day and a half. Julie M. Green is raising an autistic child, when she is also diagnosed with autism at the age of 44. In a series of essays, she explores facets of her son's life and his autism, and in other parts, she shows how she was affected by her autism as a child and adult. The craft in this book was great. Some parts were written in the first person, while others were written in the second. I thought this was a brave and moving book. There were also lots of details about autism incorporated into the text. These facts were explained well, and were not overly complicated.

I do not have autism, and I don't have children, but I found this memoir captivating.

[Russell McOrmond · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great read!

I was assigned at birth and present as a white male, so there will be differences in my experience of being late assessed (at 56) Autistic than other demographics and other individuals. That said, there is so much of this story about the author themself and their child that resonate with me. This isn’t only a story about a mother and child, but about someone assessed Autistic later in life and someone assessed Autistic as a child.

Whether you are Autistic yourself, or have someone at any age or gender in your life, this will add more different examples of lived experiences. Some of those experiences may feel personally familiar, but all will help with enabling more understanding of the wider variety of the human experience.

[Cindy Bickerstaffe · Rating 5 out of 5]

Motherness” is an excellent read from start to finish. This book offers a perfect balance of humour and heart-touching moments that keep you smiling throughout. It’s warm, raw, and deeply personal, giving readers an honest look into experiences shaped by love, vulnerability, and acceptance.

The author’s storytelling is not only well written but also educating, shedding light on perspectives that stay with you long after the final page. It’s a journey that inspires reflection, compassion, and understanding.

Overall, an inspiring and unforgettable read. Highly recommended.

[Shannon · Rating 5 out of 5]

This memoir made me feel so seen and was incredibly relatable to my own experiences as an undiagnosed (late in life neurodiverse woman) with an autistic son. Both the author and myself are Canadian born Gen Xers who grew up not knowing the vocabulary we have now, realizing our stimming, anxiety, and ADHD set us apart as children and having children ourselves it was really easy to recognize these traits in them. Heartfelt, highly relatable and VERY moving, this book made me scream "YES" soooo many times. HIGHLY recommended. Very much a standout read for me in 2025!

[Deborah Reber · Rating 5 out of 5]

In Motherness, Julie Green offers a beautifully written, deeply attuned account of raising an autistic child while simultaneously making sense of her own late-discovered autistic identity. Raw, honest, and thought-provoking, Julie’s story will resonate with any neurodivergent parent who recognizes parts of themselves in their child, and wants to embrace these common threads to foster deeper connection and acceptance. — Debbie Reber, founder Tilt Parenting and author of Differently Wired

[Milena Kras-Claydon · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am enjoying this book immensely. Green writes with honesty, heart and humour about her experiences with late-diagnosed autism and parenting an Autistic child. The later chapters also grapple candidly with the challenges of having a child identify as non-binary, and the mental re-framing that a parent must go through in supporting and accepting that transition. A timely and beautifully executed book.

[Emily W. · Rating 5 out of 5]

As more women come to recognize their own neurodivergence, Julie has gifted us with a beautifully-written and incredibly relatable memoir weaving together journeys of self-discovery, motherhood, and radical acceptance. Readers will come away feeling seen, understood, and never again alone.

-Emily W. King, Ph.D., child psychologist and author of the Learn with Dr. Emily Substack

[Raphael · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of the best books I have read this year. I love the way the author interweaves her experiences with those of her son, showing the similarities and differences between them. It is written in an easy style, and I couldn't put it down until I finished it. If you are interested in autism, or have a connection to Toronto and/or Judaism, you MUST read this book.

[ashl33bee · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was good and relatable as someone who has navigated a similar course as a mother. Julie M Green has the ability to put complex feelings into sayings that hit home. What a great story about the ever blooming and changing, complex relationship between mother and child.

[Enid Wray]

Interesting read but it suffers greatly from poor organisation.

This title could have been so much better with a much firmer editorial hand on it.

Thanks to the publisher and Edelweiss for granting me access to an early digital review copy.