When I first learned that my son might have special needs, I wasn’t really sure what to do. The future was unknown and no one, no matter how much I asked, could tell me anything definite.

The focus was on Lucas. Would he know who I am? Would he be able to interact with the world? What skills would be slow to emerge or, worse yet, never emerge? How could I raise a child with autism?

A decade later and I can tell you that things are beyond great. My son, who I feared would never fully be a part of our family, is now one of the centerpieces of my life. He brings me joy during my downtimes and love when I need it the most. There is no one on this planet like him and our relationship is unlike any other I have ever had with anyone else.

This journey didn’t happen overnight. It has been a process of growth and a slow path of understanding. Knowing Lucas has taken time and been fraught with peaks and valleys, especially in the early years. Some phases made me question who he would be and how I would manage this parenting challenge.

While my boy has come out of these years with a glowing personality and a unique outlook on the world that fills me with happiness, it turned out that he wasn’t the biggest unknown in all of this. It sounds weird to say because, if you asked me in 2012, I would have said this was all about him. He held the key to our perseverance. If only he would talk or gain various life skills, we would be fine.

Well, here we are years later, and he doesn’t talk. He also doesn’t have some of those oh-so-important life skills. There are things I help him with today that I never dreamed I would be helping a 12-year-old with and the absence of language, a fear that hung over me like impending doom, is still there. The things I was convinced we needed in order to be happy aren’t all there.

And yet, we’re happier than we have ever been.

It took a long time to understand that Lucas never held the key to making or breaking our personal happiness. I did. I held the key. I mean that and, while I know it sounds strange, let me explain.

My biggest fear in those formidable years wasn’t really about what my son would eventually do or not do. My biggest fear was about me. Could I handle these challenges? Would I be able to teach him, help him, or lead him in the right direction?

The biggest one? If I couldn’t help him reach all his goals, could I deal with that? Would I feel like a failure? Would it crush me?

I had no faith in myself during those initial doctor visits. The thought of a son who wouldn’t have verbal language was terrifying because I had internalized so many negative thoughts throughout my own capabilities in life. I questioned my ability to simply function as an adult, much less care for a child who would need me throughout his life. In my mind, this kid was screwed because I wouldn’t be able to help him.

To an outside observer, Lucas’s changes since he was a baby aren’t that massive. He has evolved into the sweet boy I would have expected. He still watches many of the same shows and still has that same positive demeanor he had when I would bounce him on my knee and swing him through the air. I still get kisses and hugs throughout the day. He’s always been sweet. We’re lucky in that respect. To know him is to love him.

Me? Well, I’m not the same.

Since those early days, I’ve been through much self-reflection and personal empowerment. I’ve gone through a divorce, removed toxic elements from my life, discovered passions that had been dormant within my soul, and worked to find a level of self-respect that I never had before. I’ve become a new person and, if I’m being honest, it’s almost all because of Lucas.

When you realize that you’re tasked with caring for a child in ways that you never even considered, you immediately understand the gravity of the situation. I spent a long while agonizing over whether I could actually do it. I kept imagining nightmare scenarios where I’d fail him in epic fashion.

As time went on, though, and I saw myself doing it, it changed my outlook about who I was as a person. I saw the strength I had to handle the emotional toll it takes and the power in my decision-making ability. All of these things that I used to question about who I was as a person began to fade because I knew that the biggest challenge I could have ever imagined was manageable.

It was manageable because my son deserved it. Often I wonder if I could have learned to believe in my own abilities if the challenge was to help myself. I’m not so sure. When it came to Lucas, though, I wouldn’t allow myself to fail him because of how much he meant to me. I wanted to give him everything I could, despite worrying that it would be too much to put on my own plate.

That’s when I discovered that I could provide him with everything he needed because deserved it and I had the ability to do it. He made me the better person I needed to be in order to care for him. Who I am today can be attributed to this kid. The better person I will be tomorrow will be because of him, as well.

This isn’t a unique story either. I see many parents in similar situations to me doing the same thing. It’s amazing what we can accomplish out of love and the achievements we are capable of reaching when we know that someone is counting on us.

I love my boy because of the person he’s made me become and I’ve become the person I am because I love my boy.