In an earlier blog, I talked about how this line from "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" struck a cord and how the subsequent line, "It's never too late," helped set me towards the right direction. But I never really talked about why or which cord it actually struck.
I didn't always find it easy to understand my son. I also didn't try hard enough. Even though I had an inkling when he was a toddler, until his formal autism diagnosis a couple of years ago, I was just an extremely apologetic mom of a kid with ADHD. For every little misbehavior or trouble, I almost always automatically assumed it was my son's fault and reprimanded him each time. And, because I wanted so hard for him to behave, I was uptight in social settings and critical of my son's every move --- so much so, that my college bestfriend's mom put her arm around me and said, "Relax. He is just being a kid." Through the years, I learned that there are certain circles that are more stringent and closed, while some are much more relaxed and open. And I have learned to adjust my mommy radar accordingly. Still, I was primarily apologetic for my son's behavior, constantly worried (even expecting) my son will cause trouble.
The message this behavior sent to my son can be summed up in these lines he told me one day, in between sobs, "I'm sorry, Mom, for always hurting you. I keep trying and trying ... but it's so hard for me to be good. Why is it easy for everyone else?"
Wow. That one washed over me like an ASL Ice Bucket challenge.
Indirectly, I had been blaming him. I was wordlessly screaming at him, "It's your fault! It's always your fault! You're a bad kid!" And my demeanor whenever other people called out how rude and unruly my son was essentially gave them license to continuously judge my son, inflicting emotional trauma on him. And I piled on top of that ... because he sees my reaction. I was reminded of this during a recent conversation with a good friend where she said, "Our [the parents'] reaction to a situation teaches our children how to react as well." Children take cues from us, so we have to be careful about what our actions are teaching them. Remember, "action speak louder than words".
After a few seconds, my mom instincts kicked in and I recovered enough to shift 180 degrees. (If we rewound the scene a few seconds before my son's line, you would see monster mom in full effect). I hugged my son, choked back my own tears and said, "It just looks like it is, but it is not easy for anyone. We are all struggling as much as you are."
And it's true. Being good is not easy. We constantly have to make choices. A lot of them need to be made within split seconds that we can't even STAR (Stop, Think and Act Responsibly. This is the mantra in my son's therapy center). And the outcomes of these decisions are not always good. But it doesn't necessarily make us bad, right? So, if it is hard for neurotypical people, imagine how much harder it is for neuroatypical / neurodivergent people (They exist and they are not evolutionary anomalies. They exist because they are needed. But that's a different topic altogether). With everything each person goes through, the last thing anyone needs is to be judged by others. It's true for them, too ... even moreso, in fact. So choose kind. Always.
When we got my son's formal diagnosis on autism, I read up on the spectrum before writing an email to my family and close friends. In that email, I explained what autism is, the spectrum, where my son is in the spectrum and the aspects of his behavior that are driven by his condition. I also outlined the message track and my planned course of action. (That's my corporate training kicking in).
I am blessed to have a family and intimate circles of friends that were quick to get onboarded, building an environment of Love, Acceptance and Trust for my son. And, yes, not everyone will be onboarded. There will always be people with different perspectives and opinions ... and I respect that. Different folks, different strokes. Sometimes you need to make difficult choices. But, as my college bestfriend said, "Your primary responsibility is your son. You have to protect him from these kinds of people [who do not understand]."
But, even with some trims here and there, the positive environment is steadily expanding, becoming a nurturing community that understands, guides and respects my son and others like him. The shift, while simple, is life changing --- not just for my son, but for everyone who cares about him, especially for me. (I am finding it easier to #ChooseKind and give allowances to people). It reduced strains in the relationship and replaced these with open communication and trust. We still have a long way to go. There will still be incidents. But we can work through them in a more objective and collaborative manner. Within this loving, accepting and trusting environment ... we keep moving forward together.
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