Hindsight burns my eyes. My post, yesterday, about the feelings of being pulled down when Evie was teeny tiny resulted in me rereading my earliest posts.
Each time I do that, I cringe. And fight the temptation to edit–to revise my history. Some of the stuff I wrote is damn embarrassing.
Like the one where I preach person first language.
Or the one where I laugh at my husband for labeling Evie as “high functioning” and proceed to “accept” inevitable incompetence.
Or where I talk about Evie living in her own world. There are actually lots of those, I think.
Anyhow, you get the picture. My thinking has evolved quite a bit.
I know that it continues to evolve and that I will probably always want to edit my evolution. That this very post will very likely mortify me in some way if I read it three years from now.
It feels like I have always felt the exact way that I do today. About everything.
The old posts serve as a reminder that I didn’t. And that there was a definite turning point–when Autistic adults reached out to me. You can see that turning point and the first overtures that my Autistic friends made to me in the comments here. You can see where Cynthia reassures me that Evie might not be lonely as I had indicated thinking in that post–but content to be alone.
Sometimes, I’m too hard on people. I don’t remember what it was like to not have a community of Autistic adults supporting me. I forget that almost everything works against parental understanding and acceptance of Autism.
Sure, some people need a hard hitting wake up call to see the light. Some will always live in the dark. But others need what I was blessed to have–the loving support and guidance of Autistic people and parents like Heather, Michelle, and Ariane.
I was given a chance. I believe that, for the most part, I’ve honored that chance–made good on the leeway I was given for my ignorance. I need to extend that some leeway to other parents–not the ones who take the chance and spit on it. But the ones who haven’t had the opportunity to be supported by the community of people that promote the love and acceptance of Autistic people.
I need to give other parents the opportunity to learn and grow without automatically condemning them for that which they don’t naturally understand. Like I was given. And continue to be given.
So that’s me owning my history. And me apologizing for berating those parents who simply have not been given the opportunity to parent with the support of a community that advocates love and acceptance.
This is me committing to giving parents (those that are receptive) the road map to community and the space needed to evolve.
Mostly this is me being grateful for the community that embraced me. Embraced my family.