I Am His Voice…He Is My Peace

Oh, the joys of parenthood, right? We sign up for the scraped knees, the sleepless nights, and the endless “why” questions. But for parents of children on the spectrum, there’s another layer, one that’s often unseen and unspoken: being the designated safe space, even when that space feels less like a sanctuary and more like a wrestling ring.

Today, for us, is one of those wrestling ring days. In the span of just two hours, I’ve been bitten, kicked, pinched, scratched, and had my hair pulled. Yep, you read that right. And I know what some of you might be thinking, “My child would never!” Trust me, I used to be “that parent” too. Before autism entered my life, I might have silently judged, thinking I knew what challenging behavior looked like.
But here’s the thing about judgment: it’s a luxury you can’t afford when you’re truly trying to understand. Have you ever walked a mile in the shoes of a parent raising a child with autism? Do you know what it’s like to be the one person in their world with whom they feel absolutely, unreservedly safe?

Because that’s what’s happening. When my child lashes out, when the meltdowns hit with the force of a hurricane, it’s not because he’s “bad” or “naughty.” It’s because I am his safe space. I am the one person with whom he doesn’t feel the need to mask, to pretend, to hold it all in. He feels free to express himself, in all his raw, unfiltered glory, even when that expression comes in the form of physical outbursts.
It’s a strange dichotomy, isn’t it? On one hand, it’s a profound honor to be that trusted individual, to know that he feels so secure in my presence that he can completely unravel. On the other hand, it’s utterly exhausting, physically painful, and emotionally draining. It’s a constant test of patience, resilience, and unconditional love.

There are good days, beautiful days, when we connect, when he learns something new, when his unique perspective illuminates the world in a way I never imagined. And then there are days like today, when every fiber of my being screams for a moment of peace, a breath without the threat of another blow.

This isn’t a plea for pity by any means. It’s a space for vulnerability.  It’s a platform for mamas just like me out there that don’t always experience sunshine and rainbows…a platform for being realistic. It’s a peek behind the curtain of a life that’s often misunderstood. So, the next time you see a parent struggling with a child, or you hear about behaviors that seem “extreme,” remember this: there’s often a deep, complex, and beautiful reason behind it all. And sometimes, just sometimes, that reason is simply because they are someone’s safest space in the world, and its ok to be frustrated sometimes.