I am NOT a person with autism. I'm autistic.
My autistic daughter has given her informed consent for this image to be used. She is competent to know her own mind, as are all children. My job is to connect, protect and teach her to be herself. Not to mould her in the image of ‘normal’.
Grieving Mother, there is no High or Low, that fallacy of the market, that divisive deliberation of exploitation made by a tax avoider and a socialite on the back of a glory hound, paid by the alchemists and torturers. There is no normal in the world of the growing mind, the mind that sees that social rules run on lies.
The mind will grow as it will, always better in the company of its own kind, but that kind willing to offer aid always, to a mother of its own. Any one of that kind can connect to a thousand years of the same mind, in a moment, online.
The division between you and I, the denial of the knowledge of kind, is a construct of commercial minds and meant to cost you, not be kind. The adults who would help online have been through every stage in time - at different speeds, it’s fair to say.
“As your child is, we were.” We are able, and entitled, to bring to the table.
The voice of anger that you hear is a voice that’s been programmed by fear, and how can one survive?
Unless… One finds one’s anger, under duress?
The fear you hear, the frantic tone, is fear for a child all alone. Within its family.
But as your child is, once were we.