“Do I resent autism?”
One sleepless night, I found myself grappling with that very question. It had been an exceptionally challenging evening, one where my son experienced overwhelming sensory input during a visit to the local shopping center. The result was a meltdown that far exceeded what his mother and I had encountered in the past, all while onlookers oscillated between pity and judgment. The chaos continued as we managed to get him from the mall to the car, and ultimately back to the comfort of our home.
There was a relentless stream of crying, shouting, and erratic movements throughout that journey. It took considerable time for him to settle down enough to transition into our home, get to bed, and finally drift off to sleep.
I was drained, frustrated, and frightened. Any parent of a child with autism knows how an experience like that can leave you feeling utterly spent. It often leads to worries about future challenges and your ability to support a child who faces numerous obstacles. In those moments, the question arises: what if my child wasn’t autistic? It’s easy to wonder if I harbor resentment toward the condition and all the accompanying stress, anxiety, and hardship.
Yet here I was, asking myself, “Do I resent autism?”
The answer is a resounding no.
My son is a remarkable, kind, and extraordinary individual, undoubtedly one of the greatest gifts I could share with the world. He loves deeply, unconditionally, and embraces life with a sense of wonder that is truly inspiring. Autism is simply a part of who he is. The way he perceives the world shapes his identity and the person he will evolve into—a person I cherish more than anything, and one I am immensely proud to call my own. He would not be the same person without his autism. So, no, I do not resent autism.
How can I hold this perspective after sharing my frustrations, struggles, and fears? It’s straightforward: I don’t dislike autism itself.
What frustrates me is how the world complicates his journey.
I detest the ignorance. The perception that my son is somehow deficient due to his condition. The misguided belief that anything is preferable to parenting an autistic child, even the severe health risks associated with avoiding vaccinations or “treatments” that involve administering harmful household chemicals—all in a misguided attempt to “cure” a child who is not ill.
I resent the judgment. The way strangers glance at my son when he becomes overwhelmed, interpreting his distress as a mere tantrum and assuming we are just poor parents. Or worse, believing that his autism makes him a threat to their children, either physically or by somehow “spreading” an illness.
I am frustrated by the barriers to services. Accessing the support my child needs to develop essential skills for a fulfilling, independent life can feel like an endless bureaucratic nightmare. Parents attempting to secure Medicaid for their children can attest to the horror stories that accompany this process.
Those are the things I truly resent. Not autism.
Ultimately, I desire for my son what every parent wants for their child: the chance to live his best life. The distinction is that he is navigating a society that isn’t built for him. On tough days, I reflect on this reality, shaken—not just for my own challenges, but for his.
In those moments, I remind myself that he is what truly matters. Understanding what autism means for him and providing unwavering love and support is the best way for his mother and me to assist him. Despite whatever life throws at him, we have the opportunity each day to show him that, regardless of what society may suggest, he is valuable, he is loved, and he is just as deserving as anyone else.
Autism is not the enemy; it is the societal perceptions surrounding it that are the true adversaries. I hope that anyone who reads this can recognize that and join me in the fight until those misconceptions fade into obscurity.
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Summary:
This piece explores the complexities of parenting a child with autism, emphasizing that the real challenges stem from societal perceptions rather than the condition itself. The author shares personal experiences and frustrations while affirming the love and pride felt for their child, advocating for greater understanding and acceptance.
