When my son was around 8 years old, he seemed to become aware that he was “different” from the other kids his age. The kids who had, up until then, enjoyed playing with toy cars and building blocks seemed to have outgrown those activities and moved on to more active forms of play. They tried to get my son to join them, but he would have difficulty keeping up with them. Eventually, both he and the other kids gave up trying. I would catch him sitting on the sidelines, watching the other kids play as if it were a mystery to him, and it broke my heart.
As time passed, my son became more and more distant from the other kids. I could feel his need to connect with them and witnessed his inability to do so. He began to withdraw from everyone. He was no longer the happy-go-lucky kid I’d always known him to be. He became quiet and diffident. I knew I needed to do something to make things better, but I wasn’t exactly sure what. Then, one day, my son came up to me and asked me what was wrong with him: Why wasn’t he like the other kids? Why couldn’t he make friends like the other kids? Why couldn’t he do the things the other kids could do so easily?
I knew then that I needed to tell my son about his autism. I was apprehensive about how he would react to the information, but I was also certain he needed to know about it. So, I sat my son down and told him about his autism, and his response soothed my heart and calmed my mind.
At the start, my son seemed confused about what I was trying to tell him, but as I explained to him what autism was and what it meant to have it, I saw him begin to understand. I found the books “Can I tell you about Asperger Syndrome?” and “Can I tell you about Autism?” very helpful in explaining autism to him in simple terms he could easily understand.
By the end of our talk, my son’s face lit up with relief and joy. It was like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. He hugged me tight and said he was so glad I told him about his autism. He said now he knew why he is the way he is and why he does things the way he does, and he didn’t feel bad about it anymore. He said he understood it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t that he was not strong enough or not trying hard enough. There was a genuine reason why he found some things difficult to do, and he said he didn’t feel ashamed about it anymore.
My son blossomed from that point onward, and I was so glad I decided to tell him about his autism.
Image via Thinkstock.
A version of this post originally appeared on Rainbow in the Clouds.
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