I first encountered Denial about a decade ago, completely unaware of the significant role she would play in my life. Denial became my go-to confidante, the friend I relied on during difficult times. She was always there to comfort me, even when I didn’t ask for her presence. Denial made herself at home, occupying my kitchen table, resting in my spare bedroom, and settling comfortably in my mind—without even bringing a bottle of wine. How rude!
Denial also helped me forget some of the tougher moments from my past, convincing me to focus less on those memories. For many parents who have whispered “The A Word” to themselves while receiving a diagnosis, Denial is an all-too-familiar companion. She’s that friend who overstays her welcome, talks too much, and gives advice that isn’t quite helpful. Just like that “bad boyfriend” your mom warned you about, it took me time to see Denial for what she truly was.
Denial often slips in right after Fear leaves, making you feel like you’re alone when you’re really not. Both Fear and Denial had their reasons for being in my life, and while I could have wallowed in regret over my choices, I’ve chosen to embrace the growth that came from it all. Laughter has become my remedy—along with a good bottle of red that a true friend would bring over.
Here are 12 ways Denial lingered too long after my son Liam’s autism diagnosis:
- During the early days when Liam’s sensory sensitivities were overwhelming, Denial assured me that his wild antics during my hair drying sessions were simply a plea for my attention—not a reaction to the noise. That explanation seemed so much easier to accept.
- Denial convinced me that Liam’s avoidance of eye contact was because he found me dull, rather than a common challenge for individuals with autism. I thought he was just too engrossed in the fascinating world around him.
- Whenever I felt sad about Liam’s lack of friends, Denial would comfort me by saying he simply hadn’t met anyone worthy of his time. That thought was so much less painful.
- When Liam would spin under the kitchen light, Denial suggested he was merely trying to inspect the light fixture rather than engaging in self-regulation. That sounded plausible enough to me.
- The meltdowns during haircuts? Denial claimed they stemmed from Liam wanting to keep his long hair, completely dismissing the idea that it could be a sensory issue. Maybe there was a grain of truth there.
- Each time we arrived at Music for Kids and Liam protested loudly, Denial insisted it was because he thought the class should be performing more sophisticated music. Clearly, he was meant for greater things!
- Denial was always there to reassure me that Liam’s reluctance to accept hugs wasn’t a rejection of touch; it was simply that no one could hug like me. I’m a pretty good hugger, if I do say so myself.
- When new experiences triggered Liam’s anxiety, Denial would tell me that he simply preferred the old routine, rather than acknowledging the need for predictability that often comes with autism.
- Denial also suggested that Liam’s dislike for new clothes wasn’t due to his sensory sensitivities but out of a desire for me to indulge in my own shopping habits. What a thoughtful boy!
- Liam’s repetitive eating habits were not due to autism, Denial insisted. Instead, it was his way of ensuring I’d always know what to prepare—because when I got it wrong, it didn’t end well.
- When I worried about Liam’s scripting from his favorite shows, Denial told me it was just a sign he was captivated by those stories, not a cause for concern. After all, who wouldn’t want to live on the Island of Sodor?
- Denial’s final gift was always telling me Liam was “fine.” While it was comforting to hear, that belief didn’t lead to the support he truly needed. Realizing that was a tough pill to swallow.
Eventually, I knew it was time for Denial to leave my life. Letting go was difficult, and sometimes she still sneaks back in, but I knew I needed to make room for Acceptance. When Acceptance arrived, she opened my eyes to everything Denial had kept hidden. I realized that with the right support, both Liam and I could find our way.
Denial played a significant role in my journey, and although she lingered longer than I would have liked, I wouldn’t be who I am today without her presence. She’s likely moved on to someone else’s kitchen, but for those still grappling with her, know that she’s around for a reason. Just don’t let her stick around for too long—your child’s future depends on it.
Summary:
This article reflects on the author’s journey through denial following her son Liam’s autism diagnosis. The author shares twelve ways denial influenced her perception of her son’s behavior, highlighting the importance of acceptance and seeking the right support. Ultimately, the piece encourages readers to recognize denial’s temporary role in their journey while emphasizing the necessity of moving forward with acceptance.