Things I learned (and learned to value) from my autistic son

One of the things any parent dreads is seeing their child not quite fitting the mold -- after all, life is so much easier when kids conform to society's norms. Therefore, when my youngest son was diagnosed with autism, I was initially devastated. Not for me, but for him, as his life was always going to be a struggle.

Roll on a few years and that devastation has disappeared, along with the urge for him, or any of my kids, to fit the mold. And strange as it may seem, my son's autism has provided me with some very valuable -- and necessary -- lessons.

Returning to my initial point, we tend to grow up with the need to fit in, to follow trends, to aspire to the same things. However, when that is no longer an option you can see the beauty in being that little bit different.

While my son's idiosyncrasies used to provide moments of frustration, they also allowed me to see that he is unique, and what a joy that is! And now instead of looking for commonalities in others, I almost zoom in on what makes people different, and see what a blessing that is.

One of the things lots of people with autism have is a sort of dependency on objects, people, or routines. At first I used to be impatient with my son's passion for Pokemon cards and fleecy blankets, but when I realized his real need for them I understood the importance of appreciating just how we all value things differently.

One day I traveled on the same subway as my son without him realizing. While part of me wanted to sob as I watched him stand absolutely rigid in the train car with his eyes fixed on the door, focused on getting to school on time, another part of me tried to appreciate his perspective.

His job was to get to school, and nothing would stop him from getting there. He wasn't going to be distracted by music, or through looking around. He was driven and had his mission to complete. And actually, he was quite happy with this little ritual. It made him feel safe. His world, and interpretation of it, is so different from mine, and there's a beauty in that.

When I mention my son is autistic I often get a sense of sympathy, as if to say his future is limited. Yet, when I think about it, thanks to his autism he has his path well and truly laid out for him -- more so than his older siblings.

While it was exhausting when he was younger, with his neurodivergence we needed to really consider his education and future plans. I appreciate that this is not always feasible for children on the spectrum. However, for my son his early passion for making bread meant that he had a distinct career path ahead: baker extraordinaire!

He is still a teen and is already a qualified baker. He brings joy to all those who get to eat his bread (and sometimes cakes) and he gains great personal satisfaction from his efforts.

And it is this personal satisfaction that is so important to foster in all of our children. Every child, no matter their physical or mental state, has something wonderful to offer: from a loaf of bread to a loving smile.

Before I had my son I would say that I wasn't the most patient of people. However, my son's huge dependency on me in his early years provided me with no other option than to become more tolerant. In the end I developed a patience that was pretty impressive -- well, maybe not on St. Monica's level, but nonetheless, it got us through the tougher times.

And it wasn't just my patience levels that improved. Without knowing, my maternal instinct and love for my more vulnerable child gave me a strength I never knew was possible. Even when I was exhausted after work, I had to find the energy to deal with tantrums, and constant explanations and teaching.

While these are just a few of the lessons my son has provided me with, there are certainly many more I haven't acknowledged, and many more to come. But I do appreciate that every parent's journey with a neurodivergent child is different. We all have different circumstances and struggles and sometimes you may just want to sit and cry.

However, what I would take away from my son's life so far is that there is always hope. Very few things are fixed in stone and now, as he reaches adulthood, I have faith in him, and faith that his journey will be the journey he is meant to travel.