‘Autism mom’ is a term often used by, and to describe, non-autistic mothers of autistic children. It’s a sort of identity, signifying her interest in and connection to autism. ‘Autism moms’ wear jigsaw piece embellished slogans, share memes about their ‘special children’, light it up blue and support Autism Speaks. They want to solve the puzzle of autism and unlock their children from their autistic prisons.
‘Autism moms’ are often passionate about getting the best treatments for their autistic children and keen to measure and compare progress. They love their autistic children and want to cure them of their autism. They spend their savings and pension pots on expensive treatments, some fairly benign, others fairly harmful.
‘Autism moms’ talk of their despair, their fear and the horrors of their daily lives. They understand when fellow ‘autism moms’ murder their own autistic children, because they understand the despair and the the nightmare of autism parenting. They raise funds for research and rejoice at scientific discoveries which suggest a cause for autism, hopeful that cause might lead to cure and prevention.
‘Autism moms’ are often criticised by adult autistic activists for not properly understanding autism. When it is suggested that the path they tread is misguided or dangerous, ‘autism mom’ claims that her child is more severe or more different to the autistic adult, that she knows her child best and has their child’s best interests at heart.
‘Autism moms’ are also criticised for wanting to cure autism, for striving to take away an essential part of their children’s personhood. Autistic activists argue that autism is a neurological variant, not a disease or affliction, and that acceptance and accommodations are what’s needed, not treatments and cures. ‘Autism moms’ are derided for discussing the day to day challenges of parenting their autistic children and told to listen to and be guided by autistic adults.
My introduction to autism began as a (seemingly) non-autistic parent to an autistic child. I was never a full-on ‘autism mom’ as described by the gratuitous stereotype above, but I can relate to the sentiment. I shared the worst and the best of my son’s behaviour and development on social media (albeit anonymously). I rejoiced when he behaved more like, and showed signs of development in line with, his non-autistic peers. I read and read and read to find ways to help him develop his emotional and social skills. I tried to help him ‘fit in’ with his non-autistic peers and shuddered with embarrassment when he showed his autism in public.
I looked for the magic bullet to help him overcome the problems of his autism and be more like his typically developing peers. I wanted his life to be easier and happier.
Parents (almost always) want the best for their children, we certainly don’t want our children to struggle. From the moment they’re born our children are measured, weighed, charted and checked, their progress against developmental norms compared and recorded. As parents we watch for signs of the next steps, celebrating when they make good progress or are ahead of the curve, worrying when we see delays. We see our children among their peers and cannot help but compare. Our children will grow up into a world made for norms. We want to smooth the path. We worry more. We do more. The search for the elusive key becomes all consuming.
I understand why ‘autism moms’ wear themselves out trying to ‘fix’ their autistic children. I understand why they want to identify the causes of autism and prevent more hardships and heartbreak. Parenting an autistic child in a world built upon and for norms is not easy. Lack of understanding, poor educational options, constant battles for provision and support, balancing needs and resources within the family, it is hard and it often feels relentless.
As I meander through this new world, with my newfound autistic identity, I struggle at times to consolidate the different perspectives. On the one hand, I am a parent to a child who has had way more struggles than a child should, and I want to do everything in my power to ameliorate those struggles, whilst on the other hand I want to celebrate his (and my) differences, and glory in the wonder of our neurodivergence.
I listen when autistic adults offer advice to parents of autistic children. I read carefully when autistic adults write articles criticising ‘autism moms’ and their choices. I constantly compare what’s being discussed to my own parenting, wondering if I measure up, am I doing my son a disservice, am I good enough? After a lifetime of never fitting in, I can’t help but wonder where I fit. I still feel as if I have a foot in the warm shallow end of both ‘sides’.
The reality is that it wasn’t working out I’m autistic that influenced my parenting. It was much more that as I became more confident as a parent I became more able to do what my son needed. I no longer felt like I had to perform some idealised version of the ‘good mother’.
I started writing this post nearly 2 years ago and had planned it (rather grandiosely perhaps) as a way to try and bridge the gap between what sometimes feels like the warring factions of ‘autism moms’ and autistic activists. I really struggle when I read accounts by autistic adults who are not parents themselves (for example Temple Grandin’s ‘The Loving Push’ book) giving parenting advice to parents of autistic children. I’m not sure non-parents can ever really understand being a parent any more than non-autistics can ever really understand being autistic.
I also struggle when non-autistic parents of autistic children are told they just need to understand and listen to their child better, as if that’s the magic answer. My autism does not give me some special power to intuitively know how to parent and support other people’s autistic children. I didn’t have all the skills I needed to parent my own child so how can I know what’s best for another child, who is not part of my family?
I know I am not alone as a parent trying to balance preparing my child for a life in a neurotypical-centric world whilst trying to preserve his right to be his own autonomous autistic self. It can be a tricky balance, and I often worry I’m missing something important. I do not agree with many ‘autism moms’ who see ‘normal’ and non-autistic as the ideal to aim and fight for. I do not see compliance with neurotypical expectations as desirable, in fact I see it as antithetical to self-advocacy.
If I can send one message to ‘autism mom’ it’s to encourage and prioritise your child’s autonomy over and above everything else, for this is what will help keep them safe in the future.
For more on autonomy, please read Jamie Knight’s article here: