The Question I Get Asked The Most As a Mom of Two Autistic Children

As a mother of two autistic kids and now an advocate, I get asked a lot of questions.

“How do you respond to people when they say they’re sorry your child is autistic?”

“How do you educate family members who aren’t willing to learn?”

“How do you support your mental health when you’re under-slept and overwhelmed?”

To name a few.

But the single most common question I get from parents is this:

“How do you stay positive?”

And to be honest, my heart breaks a little every single time I’m asked.

Not because I can’t answer it properly—but because I know that parenting an autistic child in this world can be disheartening.

Let's be honest: too much of the world still views autism through a deficit lens. Too often, autistic children are introduced by what they can't do before anyone notices who they are.

We’re moving towards awareness and then eventually acceptance, but the rhetoric around autism is still mostly negative, in the autism-as-a-tragedy vain.

And this is the part that breaks my heart.

Because when the world tells you—across spaces and places—that your child is broken, you start to believe it too.

But here’s what I want every single parent of an autistic child to know:

Your child is not broken.

Don’t let the world convince you that different is less than.

Is it harder? Most likely.

But it can be equally if not more uniquely beautiful.

So when people ask me that question:

“How do you stay so positive?”

My answer is in three parts.

I don’t stay positive because every day is easy.

It isn’t.

I stay grounded because I refuse to let the loudest voices in our culture become the narrator of my children’s story.

Autism was only an official standalone developmental diagnosis in the DSM-III in 1980.

That’s right, 1980.

When MTV and Blockbuster were dominating pop culture.

The decade I was born in.

Which means we have so much more to learn. So much more research to be done. So much more awareness and learning and unlearning to be done.

Within our children’s lifetimes, there is the potential for exponential shifts in the way we understand autism and how to support it.

There’s innovation.

There’s hope.

There’s humanity.

There’s momentum.

Say what you want about social media, but it is the ultimate connector.

I have connected with people from all over the globe, each of whom is driven by the same unquenchable thirst to make the world a better and more accepting place for our autistic children.

We come from all walks of life, a tapestry of ferocious parents whose love for our children knows no bounds, and who will stop at nothing to achieve our goals.

The world may be full of people who want to doubt our kids, but our love for them triumphs every single time.

And together, we are unstoppable.

When I answer this question, this is my favorite part.

We talk a lot about hope—hope that our children will someday this or one day that.

Hope that the world will see them for the beautifully-brained beings that they are.

But there’s something even more powerful than hope—

Belief.

Hope waits.

Belief acts.

Hope says, “Maybe one day.”

Belief says, “I’m going to give my child every opportunity today.”

Each of us has the power to believe—unapologetically, perhaps even what others would call irrationally—in our children's potential.

In their ability to change the face of history when it comes to how it views autism.

In our ability to help them do it.

Not a single soul has a crystal ball that can determine your child’s future with certainty.

When you believe in your child’s potential,

when you believe that they are competent and capable, that is the baseline for all of their success.

With time, understanding, and belief—

crazy, beautiful belief,

our children can and will achieve amazing things.

So when parents ask me,

“How do you stay so positive?”

My answer is this:

I choose belief.

I choose to believe that my daughters are worthy exactly as they are.

I choose to believe there is more happening beneath the surface than the world can see.

I choose to believe that the future hasn’t been written yet.

And until someone hands me a crystal ball that can tell me with certainty what my children will or won’t become...

I’ll choose belief every single time.

Love,

Lei