There are a few reasons why I sometimes stay home with my non-verbal son rather than take him out. On average, we probably hang out at home more than we go out. You could say it’s our favorite place to be.

For starters, most days Lucas doesn’t want to leave the house. Few things outside the home excite him as much as his downtime with his device, snacks, shows, or toys. This makes trips to amusement parks and soccer games more of an inconvenience to him than a welcome outing.

Sure, he loves the pool, occasional bowling, and restaurant visits (especially when they bring him breadsticks to devour first), but he’s much more at home when he’s…well, at home.

Honestly, I feel bad because Lucas is often dragged from the house. His sister has a full schedule of obligations and activities that we need to take her to. When you couple that with his long school day, it tugs at my heartstrings when he just wants to kick back on a Saturday. So that’s what we do.

Another reason, and one that many people have always assumed, is that it can be a hassle to get him out at times. Especially when he was younger, my son required supplies, planning, and a ton of other precautions before venturing out into the world. It was the dominant reason why, at least in his earliest days, we stayed in.

While there are various reasons to keep my special needs son home, one reason has never been a factor: embarrassment. I know some people outside homes like mine might assume this, but it’s not the reason and never has been. I don’t keep my special needs son home out of embarrassment.

Even the idea of that makes my stomach turn a bit. The first time I heard someone talk about the struggles new fathers to boys like mine face and name that as a reason, I felt terrible. Embarrassment? Of what?

Keep in mind, I’m fully aware that some situations could be embarrassing. Sneezing on waitresses and acting silly for fun are universal issues with kids. Those can make the proudest parents blush. Those I get. That’s not what I’m talking about here.

I’m not even going to claim that my non-verbal son doesn’t do anything that can be embarrassing, as it relates to his special needs. His impulse control could cause issues to spring up, if left unattended. Tossing himself on a plate of food or ripping his clothes off so he can march around like the Oscar Meyer parade are definitely fears when out and about. Those, however, were few and far between. Plus, if I’m really keeping an eye on my son, they never happen.

No. The embarrassment others assume isn’t about moments of mischief. It’s about who he is as a person. It’s that Lucas, simply by his lack of understanding or unique approach to life, could embarrass me. The thought of that makes me sick.

What makes me even sicker is that I know how people, ignorant to the reality of our family, might think that…and it makes me realize why it’s so important to write this blog about Autism Appreciation.

Let me be perfectly clear as a father. My non-verbal son’s existence is not embarrassing. At his core, Lucas is one of the most honest and open souls you will ever know. The sounds he makes, the motions he does, and the way he perceives his environment are true to who he is. He does what he wants and expresses himself as he sees fit, never hurting anyone out of malice. Ever.

No exaggeration, My son is the least embarrassing person I can be out with. The way I see him and his behavior is on a different level. Anyone who has a problem with my child is a person I have no care for anyway. Let them judge. Let them look. Then scratch them off the list. I consider it a shortcut to figure out which people aren’t worth my time.

You know who has embarrassed me in public? At one time or another, literally everyone else I have ever known. I’m pretty sure everyone who ever knew me can say the same thing back in my direction, at least once.

Unlike my boy, most of us spend a lot of time tap-dancing around social graces. We spend countless moments trying to figure out what others want us to say, how we should say it, and what everyone might think. It’s this balled-up package of anxiety that causes the biggest missteps. We’re all so worried about not messing up, that we mess up.

Lucas doesn’t care. I have never seen him blush or laugh at his own mistakes. That’s because, in his world, he doesn’t make mistakes. There are no wasted motions or regretful actions with him. He does what he does, stands by it, and moves on to whatever is next.

For many, that approach to life is unfathomable. How can a person not care if everyone is looking at them? How can Lucas scream out in a crowded restaurant, feel the gaze from a roomful of talkative people, and then scream out again even louder? Who among us wouldn’t sink into our chair the moment the first set of eyes turned our way?

Lucas doesn’t. It’s stunning and, when I’m with him, I follow his lead and try to learn from him. We all should.

Rarely, if ever, do you meet a person who doesn’t preach how important it is to not care about what others think. Well, my boy is the one person I know in the entire world who truly doesn’t care about the opinions of others.

I want that for myself more than anything, and I’m getting there. I’m lucky to have Lucas showing me the way.