Gifted ≠ Better: What Our Fastest Learners Are Trying to Tell Us

A friend messaged me after reading one of my posts about raising gifted kids.

She said “Gifted does not mean better than”. She went on to add that what I had offered described her experience growing up but that it had been “too scary to talk about” up until now.

Her reflection stayed with me, because in just a few words, it captured a paradox that lives at the heart of giftedness: We desperately need to name the experience—yet we’re often afraid to.

Why? Because giftedness is so often mistaken for superiority. And superiority has no place in honest conversations about growth, challenge, and unmet needs.

But if we don’t speak, we can’t be seen. And if we can’t be seen, the right support never arrives.

The Cultural Ladder We’re All Climbing (Even If We Don’t Want To)

From birth, children are measured, weighed, and ranked. “Percentile” becomes a parent’s first report card—and from there, the ladder only grows steeper.

By the time a child is identified as gifted, they’ve often already internalised the idea that being “fast,” “early,” or “bright” is something to either feel proud of… or ashamed of. Rarely is it framed simply as authentically them.

In our culture, any deviance from the norm, almost always gets turned into hierarchy.

Faster is better. Smarter is better. Earlier is better.

And yet, in real life—especially in parenting—it’s rarely that simple.

What If Giftedness Isn’t a Trophy—But a Signal?

There’s a metaphor I often return to in my work: Gifted kids are the canaries in the coal mine.

Their intensity, sensitivity, and rapid development aren’t signs that they’re “better.” They’re signs that they’re responding—early and deeply—to conditions that affect us all.

Emotional disconnection. Mismatched learning environments. The hollowness of rote memorisation.

The stress of being known for what you can do, rather than who you are.

These issues are present in many families. But in gifted families, they tend to show up first—and louder. Giftedness isn’t about running ahead. It’s about feeling things more vividly, more vulnerably, and often more painfully.

It’s not better. It’s just… different.

And different brings different needs.

Tortoise, Meet Hare

When my son was little, I must have told him Aesop's fable of the tortoise and the hare a hundred times. I wasn’t trying to slow him down. I was trying to protect him—from the cultural current that says fast equals worthy, that rest is laziness, that processing time is a flaw.

I knew his gifted brain could race ahead. But I wanted him to know that speed doesn’t define success.

That sometimes, slow is steady—and steady is wise.

That the world might reward the hare, but that doesn’t mean the tortoise is failing.

Because even in a home steeped in emotional attunement and developmental respect, these myths can creep in.

And if we don’t tell new stories, these myths take root.

What Gifted Families Really Need

If giftedness isn’t “better,” then what is it?

It’s a different developmental trajectory—one that calls for nuanced, responsive support.

It’s a brain wired for complexity, meaning, sensitivity, and systems thinking.

It’s a child asking existential questions before they can tie their shoes.

It’s a family dynamic that doesn’t fit standard scripts—and can’t be forced to.

Which means the right support is not one-size-fits-all worksheets or sticker charts, which all eventually fail all children anyway.

It’s:

• Environments that witness, mirror and name the lived experience

• Emotional safety, permission and the container in which to feel

• Freedom from coercive control of any kind

• Meaningful co-creation that precedes cooperation and compliance

• Guidance that honours the inner disintegration that often comes before integration

This is why I ground my work in Aware Parenting, trauma-informed care, and the lens of Positive Disintegration. Because giftedness, when met well, isn’t a crisis—it’s a call to evolve.

The Quiet Revolution

There’s a quiet revolution already underway in homes like yours.It’s not loud. It’s not flashy. But it’s powerful. It starts when we stop whispering about what our kids need—and start building systems, families, and relationships that truly see them.

If you’ve felt the discomfort of being misunderstood… If your child is “too much” for the world, but just right for you… You're not alone.

And you don’t have to figure it all out by yourself.

The future isn’t coming. For gifted families, it just arrives early. So let’s get to building something that actually fits it.