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I’m proud of the work I do. Both professionally and personally, I know that I’ve made good. I move forward with little to no regrets.

That’s because every failure has taught me how to walk straighter next time, even the ones that knocked me flat. Whether it’s finding myself returning to toxic relationships that weren’t meant to be or simply making poor choices, I’ve come to realize that even my missteps can help me decide how to walk. The path I’m on now is the result of course-correcting my journey.

Professionally, I couldn’t be happier. Things have been amazing in terms of explaining my appreciation for my son. Writing about autism appreciation, whether through my book or opinion pieces, is more than just something I do. It’s something I believe in. It’s a common feeling among parents like me that I think needs to be highlighted.

So, I share Lucas with you. My non-verbal child has what many call “severe autism.” All the sad faces and praying emojis that some share when they hear that news make me feel dishonest. There’s nothing to pity when it comes to my boy.

Does that mean he’s easy to raise? No. Lucas has no words, so finding a common ground has taken time. Even now, there are rules and social norms that he doesn’t understand. There are life skills that we have been working on since he was two and still, to this day, he’s pushing forward to grasp.

Still, I’m not sad.

I’m not sad because the happiness that he brings into my life eclipses those challenges. Just as I have no one else in my life who requires the care Lucas does, I have no one else in my life who brings the type of joy Lucas does. He operates on his own level. There’s no one like him.

Telling people about him through speeches, media, or appearances all makes me smile. It comes across genuine because it is. It would be impossible to write about the beauty of a boy like him without seeing it firsthand. Just as Lucas can’t fake a smile, I can’t fake my love for who he is.

I know what you’re thinking. What was the point of all that regret talk up front? What is there to course-correct when it comes to my son?

Well, let’s be honest. I have spent the last eight years sharing him with the world because, for the first few years, I hid him.

Don’t take that literally. He wasn’t in a box in the basement. Instead, I kept him in the background. I’d choose to let him stay home rather than go out. I’d schedule errands around when he wasn’t with me. I’d miss parties because I figured he “couldn’t handle it.”

That’s honesty, and it’s important to acknowledge it in order to understand where we are today. I tell you this with no sugarcoating because I know that right now, there are people who are doing the same thing. Young parents of young children facing a diagnosis know that self-isolation. They know what I’m talking about.

Those who don’t have a child like mine might be making some assumptions right now. The guesses would be that I kept him out of the public eye because of embarrassment or difficulty controlling him. The missed parties were due to trouble getting him ready or being on time. All the reasons others can think of involve something negative about my boy.

And that’s not true.

I mean, all cards on the table, there were definitely some struggles getting him out or keeping him happy, but that was never the main issue. Lucas was never the main issue. I was.

The truth is, I didn’t know what to say. People came to me with questions that I couldn’t answer. Every time another relative or family friend asked even the most innocent of questions, it was like a dagger to my heart.

Is he excited about Santa?

Does he like playing with friends?

What does he call his sister?

I… don’t… know!

This was a time when you’re supposed to know everything about your kid. Preschool kids tell you their life story at any chance. They like brown dogs. They like the Wiggles. They have a laundry list of facts to share with their parents.

Me? I had no idea. I didn’t know if Lucas knew who we were, what we were doing, and what was going on around him. He wouldn’t even lift his head if you walked in banging a pair of cymbals.

And yet, they’d ask me. It hurt to know what I didn’t know.

A few things changed my perception. Of course, there was my sudden and unexpected quintuple bypass at 35. Laying in a hospital bed and missing my children changed my worldview. For that week, I didn’t think about what my kids did or didn’t do. I thought about my kids and how much I missed them. It helped me embrace what I had, rather than longing for what I felt it was supposed to be.

On top of that, as the years went by, I learned to find ways to communicate with Lucas. Are there things we don’t connect on? Sure. But we are so much more on the same page than we ever were.

Those early years were the way they were because they had to be. Getting to where we are now took time and patience from both Lucas and me. Now, I can answer the things people ask me and, if I can’t, I feel no shame in saying “I don’t know.” It’s that humble approach that has given me the strength to write these pieces and explain how autism has led him to be the most gentle soul I could ever know.

Could I gaslight myself and pretend like I always felt this way? Absolutely. Do I? No. That’s because I know others are in the same spot now that I was then. I remember scouring the internet for hope that the feeling of isolation wouldn’t last forever. I couldn’t find it.

Now, I hope I am it.

Life moves forward and even the most monumental obstacles get toppled on a long enough timeline. I appreciate my son’s personality and all the ways that autism affects him. But first, I had to get to know who he was. I’m so glad I did.

HOW MY CHILD WITH AUTISM STOPPED HATING HAIRCUTS

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