1. Introduction
This research article is part of a larger qualitative project comprising three studies that explore the transition to adulthood among disabled immigrant adolescents and young adults (AYAs) in Norway. This explorative qualitative study focuses on the lived experiences of disabled immigrant AYAs, a less-studied population within the larger immigrant population. The study is grounded in the understanding that the transition to adulthood is a developmental process unfolding over time rather than a single event. As noted by Tilton-Weaver et al. [
1], this process involves a sequence of socially and culturally defined stages, each associated with expectations regarding appropriate behaviours and personal responsibilities. Some transitions are age-determined, such as reaching the legal age of 18 in many countries, while others are culturally defined through initiation rites and ritual performances [
2]. These variations mean that responsibilities and expectations accompanying such milestones vary across contexts. Moreover, transitions also encompass biological and psychological dimensions that unfold gradually and are closely interrelated. What constitutes a transition to adulthood and the meanings attached to it reflect the sociocultural dynamics shaping life stages within a given society [
3,
4].
Historically, the transition to adulthood followed a relatively predictable trajectory, characterised by the sequential attainment of socially recognised adult roles such as stable employment, marriage, and parenthood. These milestones were typically achieved at a considerably younger age than is common today. From a Family Life Cycle perspective, this period marked the transition from the family stage of raising adolescents to the stage of launching young adults [
5]. The expansion of postsecondary education, changing labour market conditions, and growing demands for specialised skills have extended the period between adolescence and full adult role attainment. As a result, educational achievement and career development have become central priorities for many young people, often taking precedence over marriage and family formation [
4,
6,
7,
8,
9]. This transformation is evident in demographic trends across many Western societies, including Norway. For example, among Norwegian women who turned 30 in 2025, 58% had not yet become mothers, compared with 43% of women at the same age a decade earlier [
9]. Such figures suggest a substantial shift in life-course transition patterns.
The statistical figures [
9] quoted above reflect the growing extension and complexity of the launching stage, as young adults remain in the family home for longer periods while negotiating pathways towards independence and adult roles. A longitudinal study [
10] Le conducted across twenty European countries, including Norway, confirms this evolving trend. Although that study does not examine the ethnic composition of the sample, Rumbaut and Komaie [
11] found that immigrant youth in the United States similarly extend their education, postpone marriage, and remain longer in the family home. This pattern is likely reflected among immigrant populations in Europe as well. This postponement of traditional adult roles has been conceptualised by Arnett [
6] as ‘emerging adulthood’, a developmental stage characterised by exploration, delay, and the gradual assumption of adult responsibilities. This trend is not restricted to developed countries alone but is also observed in developing countries [
12].
While many young people experience delayed or prolonged transitions to adulthood [
6,
7], this process can be particularly complex for adolescents and young adults with disabilities. Advances in medical science and technology have substantially increased the life expectancy of people with disabilities [
13,
14]. As growing numbers of individuals with disabilities transition into adulthood and later life, it is essential that increased longevity is accompanied by effective services and support systems that promote participation, inclusion, and positive life outcomes. Extended life expectancy alone is insufficient if young people with disabilities lack access to the opportunities and resources necessary to lead meaningful and fulfilling lives. Despite important advances in disability rights and inclusion, many people with disabilities continue to encounter social exclusion, stigma, and discriminatory practices that limit their full participation in society and undermine the realisation of their fundamental rights [
15]. Disability often shapes opportunities across key domains of adult life, including education, employment, independent living, and social relationships, while simultaneously increasing reliance on family members and formal support services. Consequently, the transition to adulthood can be particularly challenging, requiring individuals and their families to navigate complex social, institutional, and environmental barriers.
Despite substantial scholarship on disability and on migration, comparatively little is known about how young people experience the intersection of disability, immigrant family background, and transition to adulthood. Existing studies in Norway, such as Berg and Fladstad [
16] and Kittelsaa and Berg [
17], have primarily focused on pre-school immigrant children with disabilities and their developmental needs. While early skill development provides a crucial building block for future development, the challenges faced by adolescents and young adults differ substantially from those of toddlers. Physical, psychological, and social changes associated with the transition to adulthood have significant implications for both service delivery and long-term outcomes [
18]. Addressing this knowledge gap is important for several reasons. First, a better understanding of these experiences can contribute to the development of more culturally responsive and inclusive transition services. Second, it can inform educational institutions, health and welfare services, and policymakers about the barriers and resources that influence successful transitions. Third, the need to focus on migration and disability is essential given the context of welfare austerity. Finally, it can amplify the voices of a group whose perspectives remain underrepresented in both disability and migration research.
Recent scholarship provides a stronger basis for examining these experiences intersectionally. Rather than treating migration and disability as separate or additive statuses, research increasingly shows that their meanings and consequences are produced through intersecting social positions, institutional arrangements, and everyday relationships [
19,
20]. More recent work on racially minoritised youth and young adults with disabilities has further demonstrated how ableism and racism can operate simultaneously and across ecological contexts, including employment [
21,
22]. These studies are particularly relevant to the present study because they direct attention to how disability, minority positioning, family background, and institutional environments may combine to shape pathways into adulthood. This exploratory qualitative study examines how disabled immigrant adolescents and young adults in Norway experience and negotiate the transition to adulthood. Attention is paid to how disability-related experiences, family and cultural expectations, social relationships, education and employment, and structural conditions intersect in participants’ accounts. The study is guided by the following research question:
What are the lived experiences of disabled immigrant adolescents and young adults during their transition to adulthood?
Conceptual Framework
The transition to adulthood is shaped by multiple, interacting influences that extend beyond individual characteristics. Young people’s opportunities to develop independence, participate in education and employment, establish social relationships, and negotiate adult identities are influenced by family relationships, institutional practices, cultural expectations, and broader social structures. Drawing on the Ecological Systems Theory [
23,
24] and the Family Life Cycle [
5,
25], this study explored the extent to which disability and migration-related circumstances may interact across family, service, community, and policy contexts to shape transition to adulthood for disabled immigrant AYAs. The revised manuscript uses the theoretical perspectives primarily as interpretive tools rather than as overarching explanatory frameworks, allowing the empirical findings to remain at the centre of the analysis.
The Family Life Cycle framework focuses on developmental changes within families across the life course. Families progress through a series of developmental stages, each characterised by changing roles, responsibilities, and relationships. One of the central developmental tasks during adolescence and early adulthood is the gradual transfer of responsibility from parents to their children as they become increasingly independent. For many families, this process involves young adults leaving home, completing education, entering employment, establishing intimate relationships, and assuming greater responsibility for everyday decision-making. For families raising a child with disabilities, however, these transitions often deviate from normative patterns. Functional limitations, ongoing support needs, or barriers within education, employment, and housing may result in prolonged dependence and delayed autonomy. Rather than representing transition failure, prolonged and living in the family home may also reflect adaptive family responses to family dynamics, the nature and severity of the child’s disability, structural barriers, or post-migration challenges.
While the Family Life Cycle [
5,
25] framework focuses on the child’s development and the normative changes within the family across the life course, Bronfenbrenner’s [
23,
24] Ecological Systems Theory situates human development within an interconnected environmental system: the micro, meso, exo, macro, and chrono. This framework provides a lens for understanding how the interaction between these systems shapes the transition to adulthood. Young people’s development is shaped by their immediate relationships (microsystem), the connections between these settings (mesosystem), broader social and institutional influences (exosystem), cultural values and policies (macrosystem), and changes over time (chronosystem). For disabled immigrant AYAs, these interconnected systems interact to create diverse and context-specific pathways into adulthood and highlight the multifaceted challenges and supports that may shape the transition process. Furthermore, it shows that the transition to adulthood is not exclusively a personal achievement but a socially embedded process shaped by overlapping systems.
3. Results
Five interrelated themes were developed through the thematic analysis: language identity and belonging, friendship-making and social inclusion, aspirations and pathways towards independent adulthood, education and employment and negotiating autonomy within family relationships. Although presented separately, the themes were closely interconnected. Participants’ accounts demonstrated that disability, migration background, family relationships, and broader social environments interacted throughout their transition to adulthood. As noted by [
46], selecting certain quotations while discarding others enhances the data analysis process. The quotations below are presented as illustrative examples of the shared patterns identified across participants’ accounts and are intended to support the thematic analysis rather than represent individual experiences in isolation.
3.1. Language, Identity, and Belonging
Participants’ accounts indicate that language and cultural identity function simultaneously as resources and barriers at the intersection of disability, migration, and the transition to adulthood. Language emerges not merely as a tool for communication but also as a key marker of identity, belonging, and social inclusion. Participants expressed a desire to maintain connections to both Norwegian society and their cultural heritage; however, many reported limited linguistic proficiency in one or both contexts, restricting their ability to participate fully in either sphere. This often resulted in feelings of being “in-between” cultures, characterised by a sense of partial belonging and exclusion. At the same time, the findings highlight participants’ resilience and agency, as several described actively seeking opportunities to strengthen their language skills and engage with both cultural communities. Rhubio’s account provides a particularly nuanced illustration of how young people navigate multiple linguistic and cultural contexts while negotiating their identities during the transition to adulthood:
I am in-between two languages. I try to make two things work together. At school we learn Norwegian, but on weekends, I go to another school to learn our language. The teachers speak like our parents. It was difficult in the beginning to understand what they say. I have learnt a lot. I learn together with children who speak our language. I wish I could be with them every day, but I cannot.
Rhubio’s account reflects an active effort to reconcile multiple linguistic environments. Reflecting further, he highlighted the tension between his parents’ expectations and lived linguistic realities:
My parents speak T. They complain when I reply to them in Norwegian, saying it (Norwegian) was not our language. I do not know how else to reply when I cannot speak the language well. I am born here (Norway). I belong to both. I am not opposed to either, T. or Norwegian. I am happy with both.
These statements illustrate a hybrid sense of identity, where belonging is constructed across multiple cultural and linguistic spheres. They also show the pressure created when parental expectations concerning heritage-language use exceed the young person’s linguistic competence. For participants with learning or communication difficulties, this pressure was experienced not simply as a migration-related language issue but as an intersection between disability, family expectations, and cultural belonging:
I do not speak the language my parents speak. I can understand some words when my parents are talking. It does not help that I also have difficulties learning to speak (...) my siblings and I talk in Norwegian. Sometime our parents talk to us in Norwegian because we do not understand much of what they say in the other language.
(Rhabiana)
These accounts show how limited heritage-language proficiency constrains communication within families and ethnic communities. Where learning or communication difficulties affect language acquisition, participants could be positioned as unwilling or culturally distant even when they expressed a strong desire to belong. Consequently, language functioned as both a medium of cultural connection and a potential source of exclusion, influencing experiences of belonging during the transition to adulthood.
Rhabiana explained:
My parents are planning to take us on holiday to visit our aunts. I have not met them before and do not know how it will feel meeting them. They do not speak Norwegian, and I do not speak their language. It will be difficult for us to relate. But I am proud to be one of them. I hope to learn and speak the language like them some day.
While linguistic barriers create uncertainty about interaction and connection, there remains a strong sense of identification and aspiration to belong. Similarly, Rhehimu described feeling excluded during visits with members of the wider ethnic community:
We often get visitors and sometimes we visit some people who come from the same country as us. I do not enjoy these visits. They talk all the time in that language, and I do not understand what they say. I will stay home next time my parents ask me to accompany them to visit their friends.
Across participants’ accounts, language represented more than a means of communication. It shaped relationships with parents, extended family members, and wider cultural communities, while also influencing participants’ sense of belonging. Participants consistently identified with both Norwegian society and their parents’ country of origin, but limited proficiency in their heritage language often restricted communication and participation within their families and ethnic communities. Together, these accounts suggest that language functioned as both a resource for belonging and a source of exclusion during the transition to adulthood.
3.2. Friendship-Making and Social Inclusion
Friendships emerged as one of the most significant aspects of participants’ transition to adulthood. While all participants expressed a desire to develop meaningful friendships and feel accepted by their peers, many described long-standing experiences of exclusion, loneliness, and social isolation. Participants frequently associated these experiences with their disabilities rather than with their immigrant backgrounds. Several reflected on how negative experiences during childhood continued to influence their confidence, social participation, and ability to establish new relationships as they transition to adulthood.
Rhabiana described her experiences of exclusion during school:
I hate that it is tough, but (...). I mean my experience. I want to be with them, but they do not allow me in their games. They always say I do not follow the game’s rules, I do not know how to talk, or it was difficult to understand what I say. Every time I talk, they laugh. They said I was brain damaged. Yes, I tried to do my best, but was always alone in school, sidelined. No one would come near me. It was not easy.
Her account illustrates how difficulties in communication affected not only participation in play but also her sense of belonging within the school environment. Repeated exclusion from peer activities left her feeling isolated during a period when friendships were particularly important.
Rhobabio describes comparable experiences of marginalisation within the school environments:
I have had a difficult school life. I still do. I always feel like they talk negatively about me. No, I do not feel like one of them. They exclude me from what they do together. They tell me not to follow or talk to them. I do not understand why they do not like me. I do not do anything to make them treat me this way. I am afraid them and keep my distance.
The repeated experiences of rejection shape self-perception and social confidence, contributing to withdrawal and avoidance. However, not all trajectories remain characterised by exclusion. Some informants describe gradual improvements in their social experiences, particularly after accessing more supportive and structured environments.
Rhubio, for instance, reflects on a transition from isolation to inclusion:
I have friends now. It was not always like this. I went to different schools and was mostly alone. I struggled to make friends. After four years in secondary school, I came here. Now I am in a football team (…).
He adds:
Now I can enjoy myself with good colleagues and friends (...). It is a friendly team (segregated football team). I feel protected and happy when I am with them. We do many things together.
For Rhubio, participation in organised football represented more than a leisure activity. It created opportunities for regular social interaction, strengthened his sense of belonging, and increased his confidence in relationships with others. While the team is described as segregated, it nonetheless provides a sense of safety and acceptance that was previously lacking. Other participants also described friendships that developed through school and organised activities.
Rhehimu explains:
I have friends from the same class. We play and talk together during breaks. After school, we go to the swimming pool. It is good to be together and play games.
This example reflects a more inclusive experience, where everyday social interactions contribute to a sense of normalcy and belonging. Thus, social participation emerges as a crucial factor in improving wellbeing and peer relationships. Likewise, Rhomiz describes a gradual process of forming friendships after a period of isolation:
I have friends now. When I came back (from his parents’ home country), I did not make friends and had no friends. Now I have started making friends, not many friends (…), three friends. I also meet and is with many friendly people (football teammates and staff). We did not become friends at first. Now we are. We play football together. I am learning a lot.
Rhomiz’s journey, from social isolation to inclusion through structured programmes, demonstrates the transformative power of supportive, ring-fenced environments. His experience is further contextualised by his personal assistant, who provides one-on-one daily support, including accompanying him to activities:
When I first met him, he was always alone in the room playing games. He had no one to talk to. They (Parents and siblings) did not want him. He had no one in his life (…). I was with him all the time. So, it was not easy sometimes for me.
Addressing Rhomiz directly, he adds:
You were alone when you were not with me on the weekends, but now you can tell him (pointing to the interviewer) what it is like, what you do on the weekends, who you meet and who you go out with.
Rhomiz remained silent, but his body language indicated agreement, reflecting the progress he had made. These accounts demonstrate how sustained support from individuals and structured environments can facilitate social integration and improved quality of life. Despite these positive developments, experiences of stigma and exclusion persist. Rhobabio further explains:
It is difficult living like this (living with a disability). They (peers) make fun of me because they say I am strange. They call me names. They say I waste food. I do not understand what they mean. I have told my parents about this, and they (parents) assured me that they will speak to the teacher about that.
Throughout participants’ accounts, friendships represented far more than opportunities for leisure. They were central to participants’ sense of acceptance, confidence, and belonging, while experiences of exclusion and bullying continued to shape self-confidence and social participation long after the experiences themselves had occurred. Together, the findings suggest that friendships were an important arena through which participants negotiated belonging during the transition to adulthood.
3.3. Education and Employment
Education and employment were important to participants’ understandings of adult life because they were associated with competence, financial security, contribution, recognition, and future independence. All participants expressed aspirations to learn, work, or develop valued skills. At the same time, their educational and employment pathways were shaped by low expectations from others, restricted opportunities, temporary placements, uncertainty about paid work, and experiences of being overlooked. The theme therefore concerns not simply ‘study and work’ but the tension between strong aspirations and institutional or interpersonal constraints.
Rhehimu spoke enthusiastically about his educational plans and future ambitions:
Now I go to this school. After here, I will join another big school where my brother goes. My brother told me, there they learn how to work. When I finish there, I will look for a job. I want to buy many things, a house, car, or may be a bus like the one my father drives.
Rhehimu’s account reflects how education and employment were intricately connected to aspirations for independent adult life. Rather than focusing only on obtaining a job, he associated employment with the ability to make choices about his future goals. Participants also described ambitions that reflected their individual interests and talents.
Rhobabio, for example, hopes to develop his sporting abilities further:
I go to school and play football, but I like running more. I choose running during time for sport activities. I also run every day in our compound. When I see people running on Television, I feel I can be like them. Yes, I want to win medals like them.
Rhobabio’s account shows that aspirations extended beyond conventional academic or vocational routes. His interest in competitive sport provided an image of a possible future and a valued adult identity. Other participants, however, described encounters in educational settings that narrowed rather than expanded their sense of possibility. This contrast is evident in Rhabiana’s account:
I want to spend time studying. I want to. I told my teacher I want to go to college and become a librarian. She said it would be tough for me. She thinks that because I have learning difficulties, I cannot be a librarian (…), and then I start to believe that I cannot do it. I do not know how I am going to get out of this situation. No, it hurts.
For Rhabiana, the conversation with her teacher affected more than her educational plans. It also influenced her confidence in her own abilities and created uncertainty about whether her ambitions were realistic. Her account illustrates how low expectations associated with disability can become part of a young person’s own assessment of future possibilities. Similar tensions were evident in employment, where participants often moved through temporary placements rather than stable paid work. Rhubio, for example, described a prolonged pathway through work placements.
I waited almost two years after completing secondary school before getting a job placement. After that, I went to another job placement to get more work experience. Later, I worked on a temporary basis at a company as a technician, working with computers. I liked it (…), but now I am waiting to begin another placement working with the elderly.
Although his pathway into employment had been gradual, he viewed each placement as an opportunity to develop competence and improve his future employment prospects.
Similarly, Rhabiana described her internship at a library:
Yes, I have an internship at the library, and I am there once a week (…). I do different tasks: repair books, learn how to catalogue, put the books on the shelves, and help when students or teachers borrow books or return them. Some customers come to me, smile and say hello. However, most of them ignore me for my other colleagues. It does not feel pleasant.
Rhabiana valued an internship that matched her interests, but her account also shows that occupational participation did not automatically produce social recognition. Being physically present in a workplace could coexist with feeling overlooked. Rhomiz likewise described a structured combination of learning and work, while uncertainty about payment highlighted the difference between participation in a placement and access to secure employment.
My day is divided. I go to school for language classes in the morning and work in the school canteen in the afternoon. I like working there. I clean the tables, collects plates and cups and put them in the dishwasher. I do not yet get a salary for what I do. They will pay me soon, they said.
(Rhomiz)
Across the accounts, education and work functioned as markers of competence, adulthood, and social participation. Participants remained future-oriented, yet their opportunities were shaped by institutional expectations, the availability and status of placements, and whether others recognised their capabilities. The analytical tension was therefore between aspiration and constrained opportunity rather than between motivation and lack of motivation.
3.4. Aspirations and Pathways Towards Independent Adulthood
Independent living is a significant marker of maturity and autonomy, representing the transition from dependence on parents or caregivers to managing one’s own life. Participants in the study described adulthood primarily in terms of having greater control over their everyday lives, including where and how they lived, how they organised their routines, and the decisions they made about leisure and personal responsibilities. Independence was not necessarily understood as complete self-sufficiency or separation from family. Rather, participants described a gradual process of gaining practical skills, confidence, and greater influence over everyday decisions.
Rhehimu, for example, connected independent living with the ability to manage domestic tasks and make decisions about his own routines:
I love my parents, but I want to live in my own home. They taught me how to make soup and boil eggs. I can live alone and cook for myself. Also, it is good to be alone because I can play my video games when I want. They [parents] stop me from playing. They say that it is late in the night and is sleep time. I want to sleep when I feel like sleeping.
For Rhehimu, independence involved more than moving out of the parental home. It also meant having control over daily routines, leisure activities, and personal time. His account illustrates how seemingly ordinary practices such as cooking, gaming, and deciding when to sleep became meaningful expressions of adulthood and self-determination. Similarly, Rhomiz described how learning to manage everyday tasks had strengthened his confidence:
I can take the bus now by myself. Before, I was scared. I thought I would get lost or forget where to stop. But now, I know the way. I also cook sometimes, boiling eggs and making noodles. I feel good after doing this. I want to learn to cook different dishes.
Rhomiz’s account reflects an incremental process of empowerment. Through repeated practice, activities that had previously caused anxiety, such as travelling independently, became sources of confidence and pride. His wish to learn to prepare additional meals also demonstrates that independence was understood as an ongoing developmental process rather than a fixed achievement. This gradual development was also noted by his personal assistant, who described how Rhomiz had become increasingly involved in everyday responsibilities:
At first, he did not want to do anything without help. We started slowly; he learned to do small things like preparing his own breakfast, taking the bus, and keeping his room clean. Now, he reminds me when we need to shop for groceries. It is a big change.
The assistant’s account highlights the importance of supportive, gradual opportunities for skill development. Rather than treating support and independence as opposites, this account suggests that appropriate support can facilitate the development of confidence, responsibility, and everyday competence. However, participants’ aspirations for independent living were also shaped by material and institutional conditions. Rhubio, for instance, had begun exploring the possibility of moving into his own home with the support of his case worker:
I want to live in a large, nice house. I have looked around and talked to my friend [case worker]. He said I will get a letter from the council office when the house is ready. I am waiting for that letter. But he also said it will take a while because there are others waiting like me. I have been waiting patiently, but I feel I have not had to wait too long for this.
Rhubio’s account illustrates how aspirations for independent living were mediated by institutional processes, including access to public housing and waiting lists. Although he was actively planning for a future home of his own, the timing and possibility of this transition depended partly on resources and decisions outside his control.
Financial security and employment were also described as important conditions for independence. Rhobabio explained:
I want to move out one day, but I do not know how. My parents say I can stay with them. But I want to live in my own house, or with a friend. I worry about money. I do not have a job yet, and I do not know how I can help myself with that.”
While Rhobabio expressed a clear desire to establish his own household, uncertainty about employment and finances made this aspiration appear difficult to realise. His account demonstrates that the transition to adulthood involved not only developing personal skills but also navigating wider structural conditions, including access to work, income, and housing. Participants also described independence in ways that allowed for continued closeness to family. Rhubio explained:
My parents keep reminding me that, where we come from, we live together. They say that we share and care for one another. I understand that, but I also tell them that I want to do things like my friends do. One day I will have my own place, but close to them.
This account suggests that participants did not necessarily equate adulthood with leaving family behind. Instead, Rhubio imagined a future in which he could have his own home while remaining geographically and emotionally close to his parents. Independent living was therefore understood as a gradual process, shaped by personal aspirations, practical capabilities, family relationships, and structural opportunities.
3.5. Negotiating Autonomy Within Family Relationships
The parent–child relationship is central to the transition to adulthood, particularly for many disabled young people who may depend more on family support for their wellbeing. This relationship extends beyond emotional attachment to protection, family networks and gatekeeping. The interview data in this study reveal complex and often ambivalent parent–child relationships. Parents were important sources of practical and emotional support, yet their concern for participants’ wellbeing was sometimes experienced as excessive monitoring, restriction, or a lack of trust in participants’ capabilities. Participants wanted to be recognised as young adults who could make decisions, take responsibility, and participate more fully in social life.
Rhabiana described how parental concerns about safety restricted her mobility and opportunities for social participation:
I do not go out alone when I want to because my parents think it is dangerous. I only go out with them to buy food or occasionally to the shopping centre. I am not involved in any outdoor activities. They tell me I can do things with my younger siblings. They [parents] are overprotective. I would not say I like it. I wish they would just let me try to be me. I do not know what to do. I am not a child anymore.
Rhabiana’s account conveys a strong wish to be recognised as a young adult capable of making her own decisions. Although her parents’ restrictions appeared to be motivated by concern for her safety, she experienced these restrictions as limiting her independence, social participation, and ability to develop a sense of self beyond the family home. She also described parental involvement in her everyday life as intrusive:
My mother does everything for me. I know she means well, but it is too much. I want to be myself, do my own things, clean my room, make my bed, and put my things where I can quickly get them. I do not particularly appreciate it when they [parents] move things in my room. Whenever they do that, I lose track of where things are. It is much better if I take care of my things. I want my mother to trust me more.
Rhabiana did not position herself as incapable or inherently dependent. Instead, she used concrete examples, cleaning her room, making her bed, and organising her belongings to demonstrate her competence and desire for greater responsibility. Her statement that parental help was “too much” signals the point at which care was experienced as controlling rather than supportive. Central to her account was a wish to be trusted.
Similarly, Rhubio described recurring disagreements with his parents about his ability to manage everyday responsibilities:
My parents and I often argue about trivial things. They say I forget things or do not do them correctly. They are afraid that something bad will happen if they do not pay attention to what I do. But I want to assure them I take care of my affairs.”
Although Rhubio recognised that his parents’ actions were motivated by concern, he experienced their close monitoring as a challenge to his competence and self-determination. His account reflects a recurring tension between parental fears about risk and his wish to demonstrate that he could manage more responsibilities independently.
Parental messages about safety and vulnerability could also influence participants’ confidence in social settings. Rhobabio explained:
My parents always say it is bad outside there for people like me. They tell me to be careful because I cannot defend myself. Sometimes I feel like they are right, but it also makes me afraid to talk to people I do not know or make friends.”
This account suggests that repeated messages about danger and vulnerability may contribute to uncertainty and fear in encounters with unfamiliar people. Although these messages were intended to protect Rhobabio, they may also have limited his confidence in developing friendships and participating in social life outside the family.
Communication was another source of tension within some families. Rhehimu described difficulties understanding his parents when they communicated in their heritage language:
My parents talk in our language, but I do not understand much of what they say. They give instructions or ask me to do something. Sometimes I do not do as they say because I did not understand what they wanted me to do. They get angry and say I do not listen or do not want to talk in our language. They forget that I cannot speak like them. It is hard on me.
Rhehimu’s account illustrates how differences in heritage-language proficiency could create misunderstandings between parents and their children. When he did not understand instructions, this was sometimes interpreted as disobedience or unwillingness to communicate. Such misunderstandings could reinforce existing tensions and contribute to emotional distance within the family.
For most participants, however, conflict and frustration coexisted with affection, loyalty, and recognition of parents’ support. Rhabiana reflected:
My parents are my best support. I love them. I do not know how I would do without them. Sometimes we fight, but I know they love me. They just want what is best.
This account captures the emotional complexity of participants’ relationships with their parents. Participants often wished for greater autonomy, but they generally recognised that parental involvement was rooted in love, care, and a desire to protect them. Parents could therefore be experienced simultaneously as essential sources of support and as barriers to greater independence. One participant’s situation differed markedly from the others. Rhomiz’s personal assistant described a history of transnational care arrangements, psychosocial distress, and subsequent estrangement from his family:
He was born here [in Norway]. He developed psychosocial challenges his parents were unable to manage. They [parents] took him to their home country when he was ten years old to get traditional healing. He was there for ten years. Life there was difficult for him; it aggravated his condition. He is much better now. When I first met him, he looked bewildered and upset.
The assistant further explained:
He has no contact with them [family]. They do not respond when he sends them text messages. They do not answer his calls or call back. He only has me and his friends [football team members].
Unlike the other participants, whose family relationships remained intact despite disagreements, Rhomiz had limited or no contact with his family. His account highlights the potentially serious consequences of disrupted family relationships for young adults who rely on family networks for emotional, practical, and social support. However, given the complexity of his circumstances, including psychosocial distress and transnational care arrangements, this account should not be interpreted as suggesting that family conflict alone caused the estrangement. His account illustrates how family relationships may become severely strained or disrupted in contexts of unmet support needs.
4. Discussion
This exploratory study examined how five disabled immigrant AYAs in Norway experienced the transition to adulthood. Across the themes, participants expressed aspirations for belonging, friendship, autonomy, education, employment, and meaningful adult roles. These aspirations were negotiated within intersecting relationships and conditions: disability-related communication and support needs, family and cultural expectations, peer responses, institutional practices, and access to material opportunities such as employment and housing. The findings align with a growing body of literature that conceptualises disability and migration or minority status as intersecting and mutually constitutive dimensions of experience rather than as separate categories of disadvantage. Rau and Baykara-Krumme [
20] and Duda-Mikulin [
19] demonstrate that exclusion arises not simply from being disabled or having a migration background but from the ways in which these identities interact with organisational practices, social norms, and access to resources.
Similarly, Lindsay et al. [
47] found that racial and ethnic minority youth with disabilities encounter overlapping barriers to participation, education, and employment, while subsequent studies show that ableism and racism often operate as interconnected systems of inequality [
21,
22]. An intersectional perspective therefore shifts attention away from additive explanations of disadvantage and towards the social and institutional processes through which multiple forms of marginalisation are produced and reproduced. The present study extends this conversation to the second generation for whom migration is not primarily experienced through legal status or the act of migration itself, but through family cultural expectations, heritage-language practices, minority positioning, and encounters with Norwegian institutions.
Both disabled and non-disabled immigrants may encounter challenges associated with migration, including discrimination, minority positioning, language barriers, and difficulties establishing a sense of belonging. At the same time, people with disabilities face additional barriers linked specifically to disability, such as limited accessibility, stigma, dependence on support services, and restricted opportunities for participation. Challenges related to belonging, social participation, autonomy, and access to support cannot be neatly categorised as either disability-related or migration-related. Participants’ experiences therefore cannot be fully understood through either a disability lens or a migration lens alone. At the same time, caution is warranted when attributing observed challenges specifically to immigrant background. The absence of disaggregated data on the living conditions of disabled immigrant AYAs in Norway, combined with the limited availability of comparative studies involving disabled immigrant AYAs and their non-immigrant peers, makes it difficult to disentangle the effects of immigration background from those associated with disability more broadly. Future comparative research is needed to clarify how these intersecting dimensions influence the transition to adulthood and to identify the mechanisms through which inequalities are created or sustained.
A key contribution of the findings is the challenge they pose to normative conceptions of adulthood that equate adulthood with independence and separation from family. Rather, adulthood was experienced through evolving forms of interdependence. Family Life Cycle Theory [
25] helps illuminate the renegotiation of roles and responsibilities within families; however, the findings suggest that this process does not necessarily culminate in detachment from family relationships. Similarly, the ecological perspective [
23,
24] demonstrates how opportunities for autonomy are enabled or constrained across multiple contexts, including families, peer networks, educational settings, workplaces, service systems, housing arrangements, and broader cultural expectations. The contribution of this study therefore extends beyond demonstrating that systems interact. Instead, it highlights how opportunities to enact adulthood depend on the ways support, recognition, and access to resources are organised across these interconnected contexts. Consistent with recent research on disability and transitions to adulthood [
48,
49], the findings suggest that becoming an adult is a negotiated and uneven process in which autonomy, support, participation, and interdependence coexist rather than unfold as a linear progression towards self-sufficiency.
Language, identity, and belonging emerged as important aspects of participants’ transition to adulthood. While these issues are commonly discussed within migration research [
50,
51,
52], the findings suggest that they were experienced differently by disabled immigrant AYAs due to the intersection of disability and immigrant background. Participants’ accounts demonstrate that language and belonging were not solely shaped by migration histories but also by disability-related barriers that influenced communication, family relationships, social participation, and identity formation. Language functioned as more than a communication tool; it was closely connected to family relationships, cultural participation, and a sense of belonging. However, participants experienced difficulties acquiring or maintaining proficiency in their heritage language. While language loss or limited heritage-language competence has been documented among immigrant youth generally [
53,
54,
55], participants in this study described challenges that were compounded by cognitive and learning difficulties. These difficulties sometimes limit communication with parents and extended family members, posing a threat to forming meaningful relationships necessary for healthy family functioning and child development [
54]. Rather than reflecting a rejection of cultural heritage, participants’ limited language proficiency was often linked to disability-related barriers.
The findings further illustrate how disability shaped participants’ identity negotiations. Like all people from immigrant backgrounds [
52,
56,
57], participants navigated multiple cultural affiliations and social identities. However, their accounts suggest that disability frequently became an additional layer through which they experienced inclusion and exclusion. Some participants reported feeling different not only because of their immigrant background but also because of assumptions about their abilities and future potential. Experiences of being underestimated by peers, overlooked in social settings, or excluded from meaningful participation contributed to uncertainty regarding where they belonged and how they were perceived by others. These experiences highlight how identity formation occurred within the intersecting contexts of disability, migration, and societal expectations. Belonging was similarly shaped by participants’ opportunities for social participation and recognition. However, access to these spaces did not automatically result in feelings of acceptance. Some participants described experiences of social exclusion despite being physically present in schools, workplaces, or visiting friends. Disability-related stigma appeared to influence these experiences, affecting participants’ sense of being valued members of both mainstream society and, in some cases, their own cultural communities.
Disability and migration interacted to create unique challenges and opportunities in the transition to adulthood. Participants occupied multiple social positions simultaneously, and their experiences reflected the combined influence of disability, ethnicity, culture, and broader societal attitudes. Consequently, experiences that may appear typical of immigrant youth acquired additional complexity when viewed through the lens of disability. Overall, the findings suggest that language, identity, and belonging are important intersectional dimensions of the transition to adulthood for disabled immigrant AYAs. Unlike their non-disabled peers, informants were not only negotiating their place between cultures but were also navigating disability-related barriers that affected communication, participation, and social recognition. Understanding these experiences requires moving beyond single-axis explanations and recognising how disability and migration jointly shape young people’s opportunities to develop a secure sense of identity and belonging during the transition to adulthood.
The findings on friendship-making extend the concept of in-betweenness and further illustrate how disability is constructed within social contexts. Participants’ experiences were shaped less by their impairments per se and more by how these impairments were perceived and responded to by peers. Experiences of bullying, exclusion, and ridicule, such as being labelled “brain damaged”, reflect stigmatisation and social categorisation of an individual as different, unusual, or special, not in a positive way, but as an outsider [
58]. These findings support the social model of disability, which argues that disability arises not solely from individual impairments but from socially constructed barriers and attitudes [
59]. Peer interactions, particularly in school settings, functioned as key sites where disability was produced and reinforced as a basis for exclusion. At the same time, the data demonstrate that inclusion is context-dependent rather than fixed. Structured and supportive environments, such as sports teams and specialised programs, enabled participants to form friendships and experience belonging. However, these spaces were often described as exclusive, raising important questions about the nature of inclusion. While such environments provide safety and acceptance, they may also reinforce separation from mainstream social contexts [
60,
61]. This duality reflects what has been described as “conditional inclusion”, where participation is enabled under specific circumstances but not fully generalised across social settings [
62]. Thus, participants’ social inclusion remains fragile and uneven, shaped by both environmental supports and persistent stigma.
Education and employment emerged as important pathways through which participants envisioned their transition to adulthood. Consistent with broader societal understandings of adulthood, participants associated educational attainment and employment with independence, financial security, social participation, and the ability to shape their own futures. Their aspirations reflected a strong desire to occupy meaningful adult roles, whether through pursuing professional careers, engaging in sports, or contributing to their communities. Although participants regarded education as an investment in future opportunities, their educational aspirations were not solely dependent on personal motivation or ability. The findings reveal how disability shaped their educational experiences. Rhabiana, for example, experienced isolation because of her inability to communicate coherently and disappointment after being told she would not be able to become a librarian. Discouraging messages from teachers and/or low expectations from the broader school environment often undermined participants’ confidence and affected how they viewed their future possibilities. This supports research demonstrating how labelling processes can influence self-perceptions, aspirations, and educational outcomes among disabled young people [
63,
64]. When participants internalised such labels, their confidence and expectations were negatively affected. Thus, education functioned simultaneously as a source of opportunity and a site where social barriers were reproduced.
A similar tension emerged in participants’ experiences of employment. While work was strongly associated with adulthood, independence, and self-fulfilment, pathways into employment were frequently characterised by uncertainty, temporary placements, internships, and prolonged waiting periods. These experiences mirror broader patterns of labour market marginalisation among disabled people, where structural barriers restrict access to stable and meaningful employment [
65]. The findings also demonstrate that inclusion extends beyond physical access to education and employment. Several participants described experiences of being overlooked, ignored, or treated differently by others despite being actively engaged in work-related activities. These experiences highlight the relational dimensions of inclusion and suggest that meaningful participation requires social recognition and a sense of belonging, not merely physical presence in educational or employment settings [
66,
67]. Recent research shows that racially minoritised youth with disabilities may encounter ableism and racism simultaneously in employment, with consequences for inclusion, psychological safety, disclosure, and career development [
21]. Although the present participants did not attribute barriers to racism, this literature reinforces the need to examine how disability-related barriers may combine with minority positioning and institutional practices rather than assuming a single source of disadvantage. The challenge for participants was therefore not simply gaining entry into educational and occupational spaces but achieving meaningful participation within them.
While education and employment represented important pathways to adulthood, participants’ experiences demonstrated that the transition was also negotiated within family relationships. Parent–child relationships functioned as both sources of support and constraints on autonomy, reflecting the complex interplay between care, protection, and independence. Parents were consistently described as important providers of emotional and practical support, yet they also acted as gatekeepers who influenced opportunities for social participation and independent decision-making. Although participants often expressed frustration with restrictions on mobility, friendships, and everyday choices, these actions were generally understood as motivated by parental concern for their wellbeing. Adulthood was therefore experienced not as a simple movement away from parental support but as a gradual process of negotiating trust, competence, and responsibility within existing family relationships.
The findings further suggest that parental concerns may contribute to the internalisation of vulnerability. Repeated messages emphasising risk and dependence, while intended to protect, appeared to shape how some participants viewed themselves and their ability to engage confidently with the wider social world. Consequently, protective parenting may inadvertently reinforce dependency and limit opportunities for social participation. However, these practices must be understood within the intersecting contexts of disability and migration, where parents often perceive the external environment as uncertain or unsafe and where concerns about discrimination, exclusion, and inadequate support may heighten protective behaviours. Communication challenges added another layer of complexity to family relationships. Limited proficiency in heritage languages sometimes resulted in misunderstandings that parents interpreted as disobedience or unwillingness to cooperate. These experiences illustrate how disability, migration, and language intersect to shape family dynamics and influence young people’s sense of belonging. Cultural understandings of adulthood also informed expectations regarding independence. Living in the parental home was often perceived as a valued form of family interdependence rather than a marker of unsuccessful adulthood, supporting Kağıtçıbaşı’s [
68] argument that autonomy and relatedness can coexist within collectivist family contexts.
Despite occasional conflict and, in one case, family estrangement, participants consistently expressed affection for and appreciation of their parents. Support and constraint were therefore experienced as interconnected rather than opposing dimensions of family life. Overall, the findings suggest that the transition to adulthood for disabled immigrant adolescents and young adults is characterised less by a shift from dependence to independence than by the ongoing renegotiation of interdependent family relationships within cultural and structural contexts that shape opportunities for autonomy and participation.