Parenting
A Million People With Autism by Emily Thompson
“Lucas. Lucas has autism,” my ten-year-old daughter, Mia, declared one sunny afternoon. We had just finished picking strawberries, and I glanced over at my seven-year-old, who was attempting to see if one of the juicy berries could fit in his nose—and then back at Mia.
“I understand why you might think that,” I replied cautiously. “But he hasn’t been diagnosed with autism.”
“Who else? Who else has it? Like me.”
“Well, many people have autism, Mia.”
“WHO?”
What can I say? Sure, I could discuss the statistics. I could explain, “Listen, Mia, one in every fifty-four kids is diagnosed now, which means there are literally millions of individuals like you—those who might see Thursday as blue or remember every detail from the dentist six months ago.”
But that wouldn’t really resonate with her.
Instead, I focus on the positive traits of autism—her incredible memory, her empathy, her determination, and her growth. Yet, it hardly eases the loneliness she feels, being the only one in our family, in her class, and perhaps in the world, with a diagnosis on the spectrum.
It’s as if I’m saying this:
“Mia, you are a remarkable unicorn among ordinary horses. You are so special! We know there are many like you—millions, in fact—but we don’t know how to connect you with them. And oh, magical unicorn? We don’t quite understand you. Your vibrant beauty dazzles us, but your meltdowns can be overwhelming. Maybe it would be easier if you were just a regular horse, like everyone else. Then we could teach you math.”
When I began writing my blog, I didn’t have a specific goal or vision. It’s been more than two years now, and I realize I also did it to combat my own feelings of isolation. From the comfort of my little office, I could share my experiences, add a dash of humor, and connect with others navigating the challenges of autism, parenting, and everyday life. If I raised a bit of autism awareness along the way, that was just a nice extra.
Yet, in some ways, I feel I have failed. Even though I’ve connected with a broader community, the child sitting next to me—the one with autism—feels confused, scared, and ashamed.
He feels alone.
So, I turned to my followers on social media, asking them to help me show my daughter that yes, there are millions of others just like her—those who create beautiful art, have jobs, enjoy movies, and love ice cream after dinner.
I was overwhelmed by the flood of responses.
“Hey, Mia. This is my son, also named Mia. He has autism. He’s seven years old. Although his social skills are labeled ‘very poor,’ he has an incredible ability to light up a room. You are not alone!”
“Hi, Mia! This is my 15-year-old nephew, who also has autism. He is the magical unicorn in my life.”
I recognized Mia in those messages. I saw myself reflected in them. I absorbed the hope, encouragement, pain, and love.
“I have a son who is 14 and has autism. Although I am an athletic person and, like most dads, dreamed of playing sports with my son, I embrace his brilliant mind, humor, and kindness. My mission is to ensure Vinny leads the best life possible.”
Old friends reached out, and one mother shared a photo of her quiet child’s radiant smile.
“Hi Mia! My son is autistic. He’s six and doesn’t speak yet, but his smile can brighten any room…just like yours.”
Educators from across the country chimed in.
“I’ve taught several students with autism, and each one has profoundly impacted my life.”
From Minnesota to New Jersey, Oregon to California, they all shared their stories.
“Hi Mia! Guess what? I have two sons with autism. They are twins, 13 years old, living in Iowa. One loves swimming and elevators, while the other has an extraordinary memory, sings in perfect pitch, and plays the trombone.”
We read one message from a family in the Netherlands over dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant, and Mia’s face lit up with a slow smile. “Amsterdam is the capital of the Netherlands,” she informed me.
“My younger son is autistic, too. He’s eight, loves soccer, and everything Minecraft. He’s loving, kind, and so much fun! We live in Iceland. You are not alone!”
Some bravely shared their journeys.
“I have autism. I lead a successful life and face my share of challenges. But I’m 25, accomplished much, and I love who I am. Mia is definitely not alone.”
Throughout that week, Mia asked for my phone repeatedly to read the comments. Each time, her face glowed with joy.
“My wonderful 11-year-old has autism and ADHD; she feels alone even when surrounded by others.”
If I’ve learned anything, it’s that autism encompasses a vast array of experiences. Sometimes, it affects more than one family member, while at other times, it’s a solitary journey.
“I have not one, but two amazing boys on the spectrum. Autism is just one part of who they are, like having brown eyes or freckles.”
One morning, while sitting at my laptop and reading emails, Mia hovered beside me, expecting to ask for iTunes access. But once again, she was drawn to the Facebook thread, captivated by the photos and stories of children and their families.
Then she paused, taking in a comment.
“Joe. Thompson,” she whispered. “That’s Dad.”
I glanced at the screen and read a comment at the bottom of the thread:
“Hi Mia. My son has autism, and I have loved him since the day he was born.”
I had assumed “millions” was merely a casual term to quantify the responses to a blog post. But I realized I was mistaken. It’s not a number at all.
Millions represent confusion and fear, laughter and joy. It includes children from Michigan, girls from Utah, and a 13-year-old with a perfect voice.
It’s about facing challenges together, sharing Disney movies, and celebrating the extraordinary gifts of unique individuals.
Millions are both abundant and scarce, vast and intimate. But on some days, it’s simply two siblings navigating the slopes of autism together, laughing beneath a brilliant blue sky.
Summary
In this heartfelt narrative, Emily Thompson shares her experiences as a mother of a child with autism, illustrating both the challenges and joys of parenting in a world where autism can often feel isolating. By reaching out to a community for support, she uncovers a wealth of shared experiences and connections that help her daughter understand that she is not alone. The article highlights the beauty and complexity of autism, ultimately celebrating the unique qualities that make individuals on the spectrum special.