Part of Who You Are

Sam stares out the window in the backseat. We’re on our way to the doctor’s office; and even with the dial set to his favorite radio station, Sam is quieter than usual. I decide to blame it on a long day at school or a cloud design in the sky or the repetitious blink blink blink of the yellow line in the center of the road. It could be any of these things. But it’s not.

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey.”

“Don’t let them take my Asperger’s away.”

What did he say? “I’m sorry, honey. I couldn’t hear you. What was that?”

“Don’t let them take my Asperger’s away, Mom.” He’s looking at me now in the rear view mirror, close to panic – I can tell. “I like being me. I like being different and smart and funny.”

Biting back tears, “Don’t worry, honey, no one will ever do that. It’s part of who you are.”

“Good.” He smiles, relaxes.

As a parent, the weight of my response is heavy – “No one will ever do that. It’s part of who you are.” Reassuring a child that something - that makes him an oddity, a target for bullying, unable to socialize, highly anxious, all these things - will be with him forever, it breaks my heart. To have him understand that this same something makes him “different and smart and funny” and to be afraid to have it “taken away,” makes me proud.

All we can ask for as a parent for any of our children is that they see themselves as worthy, beautiful, wonderful people. Knowing that Sam does, makes me the happiest mom in the world.

This happened exactly a year ago. Struggles at school made it necessary to reevaluate Sam’s medications, to try and find something that would help him focus and not be so anxious. He was terrified that it would make him a different person. That it would “take away his Asperger’s,” something he identified with, understood and had grown to love about himself.

A year later, we still struggle from time to time; but no new medication changes are necessary for the first start of a school year ever. Sam has found a cocktail that works well and a sense of being that makes him a happy, different, smart, funny child. He’s enrolled in a school with an amazing administration and staff that foster his well-being every day, making him proud of whom he is. I have a fantastic daughter, boyfriend, sister, and extended family and friends that embrace his uniqueness and strive to learn more about what makes him tick. Sam and I are blessed.

I thought of this today as I corresponded with another ASD mom, struggling with the first of the school year blues. It was an eye-opener to remember that we are a community with more in common than a child’s diagnosis. My wish - for her, her son, Sam, for all of us – is that one day autism will be understood, embraced and accepted – by those on the spectrum, as well as the global community. When we can see it as a positive, like Sam does, rather than a negative; the world will become a much more diversified and fascinating place to co-exist.