One day, a colleague inquired how my life might have changed had I not had a brother with a disability. My response was unequivocal: my life would be significantly less vibrant, less engaging, and less rewarding. Over the past two decades, my brother Matt has imparted invaluable lessons simply by being himself. Here are five of the most profound insights I’ve gained:
1. Ask Only If You Can Handle the Truth.
Matt’s distinctive trait is his candidness and innocence. Although he means no harm, he possesses an unfiltered honesty. Deceit is not in his nature, which has led to some awkward moments. I’ve often heard questions like, “Matt, are you happy to see me?” followed by a blunt, “Not really.” It makes me ponder how different the world would be if everyone expressed their thoughts so freely. Despite this, I always seek his advice on my attire.
2. Invisible Struggles Are Still Real.
Visible injuries are not the only indicators of suffering. Autism is an invisible disability. Even if you observe Matt flapping his arms or softly speaking to himself, understanding his experiences is often elusive. This lack of outward signs can be both advantageous and challenging. There are times when I wish Matt’s disability were more apparent; people tend to be more understanding when they can identify a need for compassion. Many see Matt as a tall, attractive 20-year-old and misinterpret his behavior as unruly or his lack of eye contact as disrespectful. I’ve learned that everyone has their battles, and it’s vital to approach each situation with empathy. You don’t need to see the struggle for it to exist.
3. Grief is Not Reserved for Death.
I once likened receiving an Autism diagnosis to the feeling one has when losing a close friend. It may sound harsh, but the sentiment captures the essence of loss—the loss of the future you envisioned for yourself and your family. I experienced denial, anger, and sadness. It’s crucial to acknowledge these feelings; they are part of the journey. I still grieve for the potential life Matt could have led. However, I’ve learned to limit this grieving to brief moments, as dwelling in sadness is unproductive.
4. Miracles Are Possible.
Yes, it may be a cliché, but parents of children with disabilities need to hold onto this belief. While it’s important to have realistic expectations, there should be no limits on potential. A nonverbal diagnosis does not dictate a person’s future. Matt today is a vastly different individual compared to who he was ten years ago. The nonverbal Matt of 1998 not only speaks but sings with surprising talent.
5. You Can’t Control Everything, but You Can Control Your Response.
As someone who thrives on organization and planning, I often found myself frustrated by the unpredictability that comes with having a sibling with a disability. Milestones may not be achieved despite significant investment of time and resources. Errands can be derailed by unexpected emotional outbursts triggered by something as simple as clothing textures. I’ve learned to conserve energy by focusing on what I can control—my reactions. While optimism isn’t necessary every day, it certainly makes life more enjoyable.
6. A Simple “Hello” Can Go a Long Way.
This one is straightforward and profound.
In summary, having a sibling with autism has taught me invaluable lessons about honesty, empathy, grief, potential, and the importance of response. These insights have shaped my understanding of life and relationships in ways I never anticipated. For those exploring parenthood or seeking resources related to home insemination, consider visiting this excellent resource for additional guidance. You might also find insights on fertility from this authority helpful.