29 There’s a Place

Emily Paige Ballou

I want you to know that your child is a whole person, just as they are.

I WANT YOU TO KNOW that there is a place in the world for your child.

I want you to know that whether or not she grows up to have a “normal” life isn’t the most important thing.

I want you to know that there is no shortage of wonder and of rewarding experiences in the world, even if his life doesn’t resemble the one you might’ve anticipated for him.

I want you to know that she can have a life that works for her.

Even if she never speaks.

Even if she never looks you in the eye.

Even if he doesn’t go to prom.

Even if she never goes to college.

Even if he’s never able to drive.

Even if she never has a romantic partner or gets married.

Even if she never has children of her own.

Even if it takes them much longer to learn things that are easy for other people.

Even if she will never be able to live independently or will always need help and support with daily living skills.

Even if she self-injures.

Even if she might not be able to work at a conventional job. Even if she needs to take advantage of disability or Social Security benefits.

Even if she is gender nonconforming.

Even if she can’t wear makeup or dress the way that a lot of people think girls should because of sensory issues.

Even if she has trouble with hygiene or self-care right now.

Even if her comfort zone seems very narrow or restricted right now.

Even if some or all of these things are true and remain true, there is a place in the world for your child, because the world is so big, so wide, and so diverse. I want you to know that there are autistic people who fit all of these descriptions, living lives that they’re okay with and find worthwhile, because there are an indefinite number of ways to make a good life, not just the one that we’re often led to believe is the only way. I want you to know that people who fit all of those descriptions do things like have friends, have hobbies, have passionate interests, take online courses if they don’t go to college, write and blog, engage in advocacy, volunteer, work, enjoy the natural world, and are loved and appreciated.

I want you to know that your child’s finding her place in the world doesn’t depend on how well she pretends to be what other people want or expect her to be, but on finding the places where other people are most okay with who she actually is. I want you to know that those places are multiplying.

I want you to know that your child has real, innate strengths and not just splinter skills or savant skills, as many people assume are the only kinds of talents that autistic people might have. Some of them may be intrinsically related to her being autistic, and some may not, but your child has strengths, and figuring out what they are and nurturing them will help her find that place in the world.

They might be things like pattern recognition, attention to detail, complex visualization, instinct for math or music, rhythm and cadence, dance, movement, empathy and compassion, a strong sense of justice and fairness, the tendency to see an issue or a problem from a different perspective, memory, intuition, sensitivity to her environment, a high tolerance or even relish for repetition, ritualization, or solitude, resistance to boredom, having a rich and detailed internal life, working with her hands, mechanical understanding, working easily with plants or animals, pragmatic problem solving, spiritual insight, poetry, and metaphor . . .

And they might be in a way of understanding the world that I can’t even name or conceive of.

I want you to know that your child has strengths to nurture even if they also have immense challenges. Even if you can’t see what they are yet. Even if your child doesn’t know what they are yet. Even if he can’t show them or communicate them to you yet. Even if the professionals and therapists and educators in your lives have only told you all about your child’s deficits and challenges.

And although some kinds of therapy might help her, she will need time and opportunity to indulge and develop her desires and strengths, not only to remediate her deficits. It is very likely that where she’ll demonstrate her best skill development, or learn the most about how she works and what she’s good at, won’t be in any therapy or in any classroom, but in some way just by doing what she loves in the world.

I want you to know that what he might never do doesn’t necessarily tell you anything about what he might do.

I want you to know that your child is a whole person, just as they are. That she is not lacking any essential feature of what it means to be human. There is no missing piece of her you have to find; she is all there, even if you don’t know how to understand her yet. I want you to know that he does have an intact mind. It’s just a mind that may work very differently from those of the people around him, in ways that are still obscure to most of us, in ways that he doesn’t know how to tell you about yet.

I want you to know that she has a future as an autistic person.

I want you to know that your child is of value to the world, and the world has a place and a need for them.