Dear My Precious Child,
I’m composing this note knowing you might never see it, mainly because I’ll likely tuck it away. There’s so much I want to share, but at just 7 years old, it might be overwhelming for you. Instead, I’ve decided to express my thoughts publicly.
If I had the ability, I would alter aspects of your life to ease your journey. However, my true responsibility lies in making your present and future as bright as possible.
I can only imagine the silent battles you face each day. I may never fully grasp your confusion or the way your mind interprets the world around you. Your stimming—sometimes constant for days and then absent for weeks—leaves me feeling powerless. I wish I could understand how you feel, but until you can articulate it, I can only strive to empathize.
It breaks my heart to witness others mock you. I actively try to educate your peers, hoping to foster understanding and support for you. I pray you remain shielded from their hurtful words. You are the happiest child I know, and I will fiercely protect your joy from the judgments of others, especially those who should be your friends. Just last week, I had to explain to a boy why you spoke differently because I noticed him imitating you. You didn’t perceive it, but it shattered me. After talking to him, I held back tears until we were alone in the car. I try to maintain my composure, but sometimes, my protective facade falters.
Since you were one, it’s been just you and me. I feel regret that your father isn’t part of your life. I’m sorry it took time for me to help you understand that other kids have dads, and you don’t. Despite this, we’re doing well together. We have each other and the most wonderful Nana.
I regret the struggles we face over food. I know you would happily survive on chips and M&Ms, but that’s not acceptable to me. I make you drink nutritional shakes because I love you and want you to be healthy. Let’s put an end to our disagreements about that. Someday, you might recognize that I’m the one in charge (though I doubt it).
I adore you, but there are times I find autism incredibly frustrating. I despise the challenges you endure in silence, the constant worry that lingers in my mind, and the efforts required to secure the services you need. I especially detest the uneducated individuals who judge you based on a single public meltdown. To those judgmental people, I have no time for you.
You are an incredibly strong and resilient boy, and you continue to astound me every day. Your stubbornness (which you definitely inherited from me) leads to our occasional power struggles. Nevertheless, Jaxon, you possess my entire heart, and I will always look at you with unwavering admiration.
With all my love,
Mama