December 23, 2013

I'm Not Sorry About Autism

You don't usually hear conversations that go like this:

"My son's eyes are blue."
      "You must be strong. It's because God knows you can handle it."

"I have black hair."
     "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. What's it like for you?"

"My husband is white."
     "That must be so hard to deal with."

"My best friend has an IQ of 114."
      "You're such a saint to be his friend."

With the exception of hair dye, the sort of attributes I mention above can't really be changed. They are part of the person - the way they were born. So is autism. It's part of me, part of my son. I'm not sorry about it. It's just a small part of what makes us who we are.

So imagine my surprise when my husband tells the plumber working on our house that our son is Autistic and he tells my husband he's, "so sorry."
(Also lucky I wasn't there or he would have gotten an ear full)

I don't know any other life without autism and I don't know my son without autism either. We would not be the same people. I'm not sorry about who I am. It's different, but there's no reason to feel sorry for us.

You may be interested in I Make No Excuses

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