When my non-verbal son was little, I used to hold his hands.

If you’re reading that and saying, “aww”, you’re reading it wrong. It’s not nice. It’s something that I am now, ten years on, embarrassed to admit.

I didn’t hold his hands out of love or assistance. I held his hands to stop him from clapping or stimming. I’d watch as he’d do things that resembled the traditional signs of autism. I tried to stop him from being who he was and who he would become.

The fear of autism was real and I didn’t know what it would look like for him or for our family. My thought was that if someone saw him doing these things, they would know. What they would know? I don’t know. Something bad?

After all, I didn’t even know what I was trying to stop him from doing. Clapping was something that just a few months earlier, we were trying to encourage. That’s what made it all so confusing. We taught him this. Clapping was a common movement for toddlers. We wanted him to learn it and he took to it immediately.

People would ask if he was talking or doing other traditional milestone moments and we’d say no. Clapping, though, he did like a pro. If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands, right? He was big on that. This should have felt like a parental win.

Soon, it became clear that he wasn’t just clapping for typical reasons. He’d slam his little hands together to make an echo in our stairwells. We’d watch in confusion as this one teachable skill, out of so many he had been failing to learn, became his favorite thing in the world. It, rather quickly, morphed into something else.

Today, Lucas still claps regularly. He does it during select moments of the videos he pauses and plays on YouTube Kids. Not only that, but he does it in conjunction with sounds he will make or excited screeches to show his approval over something. None of that has changed. Only one thing has changed.

I don’t hold his hands to stop him anymore.

This is who he is and these are the things that he does. Some may call it “stimming”, self-stimulatory behavior, but we just call it Lucas. That’s how he expresses joy during times of excitement. We watch him and, unlike a decade ago, we partake in his most joyous times. We don’t try to stop him.

Do I beat myself up for the earlier times I did? Not anymore. There was a transition period in my parenting that led to some pretty brutal internal conversations with myself. I could recall trying to stop him and hated that it was part of our early days together.

I learned to forgive myself for that. While I know now that I was wrong, it came from a place of love at the time. The thought was that if I could keep him from doing these things that everyone associated with autism, I could somehow prevent him from having autism.

Not only is that not the case but there’s really no reason to stop him from being anything other than what he is. My son is my son. Whether he’s on the spectrum or not, I love him. I know that now, but I knew it then.

Holding his hands wasn’t done to stop him from being who he was. Misguided as it was, I was trying to help him become the person I thought he was going to be. Preventing these stimming actions and shielding him from the world was done to help him along.

Today, he still claps. He still stims. He has autism and he’s non-verbal. This is the person he has become and all those times of trying to stop him couldn’t change that. To be frank, I’m glad it didn’t. My son is happy. He claps during times of joy. Every time I hear those two palms slam together, I know that he’s experiencing something that brings him excitement.

He’s also no longer shielded from the world. His 13^th birthday just passed and, with it, came new family and friends. There were people there who see Lucas for who he is and accept him with love and admiration. They understand the pure nature of his heart and it doesn’t matter if he claps or screams. They see Lucas as we do. They see the authentic person he truly is in a world where so many others aren’t.

Autism appreciation is real. Does it mean that life will be easy for my non-verbal son? No. Lucas has a bumpy road ahead at times. Yet, he’s been managing it great so far. He’ll have family and loved ones by his side as he does.

And every clap we hear along the way will be a sign that he’s smiling as we get there. I’ll still be holding his hand, but it will be to help him navigate this world while knowing that he is accepted and appreciated for the wonderful person he’s become.