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A Mother's Account of Raising a Daughter with Autism

A Mother's Account of Raising a Daughter with Autism
A Mother's Account of Raising a Daughter with Autism

Dear Brave Little Hero,


As dawn breaks, I gently nudge the curtains aside, allowing the first rays of sunlight to spill into your room. It’s time to start our day, though I know the world outside isn't always kind to your unique spirit. Each morning, I watch as you struggle to adjust to the noises and light, sensations that you feel so much more intensely than others.


Your breakfast is always the same—sliced bananas and oatmeal—because I know how new textures can unsettle you. Today, like every other, you meticulously arrange the bananas before taking a bite, finding comfort in the order you create.


Getting you ready for school is an exercise in patience and love. Each layer of clothing must feel right, each seam and tag inspected to avoid an invisible discomfort that might overshadow your day. We missed the bus once, and the change threw you into a turmoil that lasted for days. I remember how the disruption in routine was enough to make you retreat into silence, a reminder of how deeply you feel the world’s disarray.


At school, you shine in your own quiet way. Your teachers tell me about your progress, about how you've taken to drawing as a form of expression. They don't see the hours you spend at home, silently guiding your pencil across paper, but I do. I see how you capture emotions that words can't touch, how your drawings speak of a world too rich and vivid for speech.


Sometimes, the other children don’t understand you. They can't see past the surface, past the rituals and routines that help you navigate life. I know because you come home with shadows in your eyes, carrying the weight of unkind words and actions. It breaks my heart to know that your journey is so much harder than it should be.


Yet, despite these challenges, you return home each day with small victories tucked under your arm. Maybe today you shared a toy, or played a new game, stepping bravely beyond the comfort of routine. Each of these moments is monumental, a testament to your courage in a world that often overlooks the brilliance of your unique perspective.


In the quiet of the evening, as we read together, I am reminded of why these battles are worth fighting. Your laughter, rare and precious, fills the room when we encounter a silly character or a funny line. These moments, fleeting as they may seem, are the threads that weave our days together into something extraordinary.


As night falls, and I tuck you into bed, I whisper a silent prayer for you, my brave little hero. I pray for a world that sees your strengths as I do, that appreciates your uniqueness and offers kindness in place of judgment. I pray for your dreams, as vibrant and profound as the drawings you so lovingly craft.


And as I watch you drift into sleep, I promise, as I do every night, to be your advocate, your voice, and your biggest fan. For in this complicated, beautiful journey, you have taught me the true meaning of resilience and love.


Forever by your side,



Mom

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