Parenting As An Undiagnosed Autistic

Acceptance

I parented as an undiagnosed Autistic to a non-autistic child, now naturally an adult, until I was 45. Granted, our son, who turns 27 soon, does not require parenting at the level of younger teens and kids anymore (I sigh relief selfishly, I admit. But I see you all, and I am in awe of so many pushing through daily in the current global situation).

Still, when you are a parent, you never really stop parenting. You worry, obsess, and stress; sometimes, it takes you down. I see many declare they would die for their kids because we will do anything to protect them, and rightly so. But at 47, with my lived experience, I am not sure I advocate dying for my kids because I nearly died trying to make up for voids I couldn’t fill — namely, my absence. I also almost lost myself mentally, emotionally, and physically trying to carry more children. I am no parenting guru, but I don’t think our kids want us to die for them. They want us to stay alive. To take better care of ourselves mentally and physically, yet many days, this feels incredibly challenging and easier said than done. I lived it.

I continually have to relearn where and when it is helpful to be a proactive parent and then to step back and respect my adult children’s values, beliefs and opinions. It is hard to do that; encompass my Autistic layers, which I am aware can make me staunch in my views, values and beliefs. So I regularly sit with myself, reign it in, and begin again, but it is a must as he grows into an independent thinker and whole self.

I lament that I missed much of my son’s childhood through work, burnout and illness. It stings. I was incredibly fortunate to have a lot of family support. I question the impact of my absence on his future self, and I often ask him to talk to me about it. Without a shadow of a doubt, there have been barriers to our communication due to our individual communication styles and neurodiversity. I continually have to recheck for meaning, but being human, my ego as a mother needs an answer. A continual check for meaning is more than an inconvenience in all we do but indeed a strength-driven skill to be harnessed. Regularly, I find myself stuck in the psychoanalysis mode of us both within my parenting (something I am far from qualified to do but think I know it all!)

But I know myself and my son, which makes me expert enough to justify my scrutiny. But sometimes, it is because my bruised ego is trying to verify where I may have fallen short as a mother, let alone where my autistic layers may have complicated my tending to his needs. Without having more children here and my attachment styles, I am also highly aware that I can also try to parent everything, my dad, the dog, my close souls, colleagues, peers, and myself. Hence I have to be very proactive at my boundary enforcement at times, sometimes to the point of what may come across as coldly natured inevitably ingrained in social scripting as being autistic and not having empathy. Oh man, if only you knew. My ingrained need to parent everyone and everything does nobody any good, let alone the deficits I then have to suffer and surrender to as a result when my ego has to process the rejection sensitivity of my advice. Imagine somebody not taking my advice. How selfish of them to be selfless of them. I regularly ask whose needs this serves before all hell breaks loose. It is a safety net for all concerned.

Despite my doubt and self-berating at times, our son has turned out incredibly successful, independent and hardworking on his terms. As a neurotypical person, he has savant mathematical and scientific talents he has won awards and accolades for and has an intense focus that blows my mind. But it does not matter only if he has conquered himself. He is mastering himself as a priority but still has so much to learn and win over on his terms, but at 47, I have learned so much from him just observing. I like to watch him occasionally as he works. At home, he talks out his thoughts as he types, which is incredibly beautiful. I am that value-driven, observant voyeur. There is a resilient resonance in that space. He is me but also not me. He is us but also not us. He is he. Naturally, some of his behaviours stem from nature and nurture within his neurodiversity. Naturally, some of it does not.

And so maybe the fact I was absent was of benefit occasionally. But, on the other hand, perhaps it was not on others.

Maybe the fact I was Autistic was of benefit occasionally. Perhaps it was not on others.

It may not matter now because he recently told me I was the strongest person he knows, and that was a fact, so my ego will take that and stop trying to analyse it repeatedly.

However, I will still attend this webinar by the brilliant Amanda Mc Guinness tomorrow night on behalf of AsIAm. In that space, I will still learn and hopefully reach more acceptance of the autistic parent and mother I am and was, past and present.

Acceptance.

Do join if this is of interest to you. The link is here to register is here.

Thank You.