It’s a comfort to know that there is someone in this world who is paid (by me) to listen to me when I can’t make my way through what’s going on in my head and my heart. And the bonus is that he is either a fantastic actor, or he truly cares about me and my family – especially Izzy. After Izzy refused to allow Jasmon back into her life last week, as more of a mentor than a therapist, I tried my absolute best to understand and be ok with that. I tried to listen to her and see the situation from her point of view. My biggest mistake happened when I made this “amazing” plan for Izzy…I talked to Jasmon, to Todd, to Angela, to Jackson to Mom and Dad and to Brad about it…and each of these adults, in turn, celebrated that plan. The one person I didn’t talk to about it was the one person it effected the most…Izzy.

Izzy loved Jasmon in the 5 months they were therapist/client. She laughed and shared and listened and learned with Jasmon. But when Jasmon left, the black and white mind of my girl said “I accept that I’m done with her and I won’t have her in my life again.” She moved forward thinking she would never interact with Jasmon again. When I tried to get her to meet Jasmon for dinner a few weeks ago, she kindly but firmly told me she didn’t want to do that, it made her anxious and uncomfortable. I didn’t understand, but I honored her words. When we pulled her from the center, we told her that she was done with ABA, that she was ready to move on. And she listened and heard us say those words and she took them to heart. She had made it, she was done. No more ABA, no more ABA therapy. No more Jane. No more therapists who didn’t listen when she tried to advocate for herself. So when I told her last week that Jasmon was coming to hang with her…the shit hit the fan. She was angry, disappointed, angry, and did I mention angry? She called me a liar and a fraud. She used the words I had told her on the day we pulled her out of ABA and she made a very compelling argument that she didn’t want or need Jasmon. She needed the chance to show us that she could and would do her work (school and home) independently. And when it was time, she needed the opportunity to show us that she’s ready to go back to school.

So Brad and I started our session there tonight. And before I knew it, we were far beyond that situation and were instead knee deep in my fears as an autism mom. And my heaps and loads of Mom Guilt that were further beating me up. Mom Guilt is something I’m really good at, I think most moms are. And that part of me tends to just keep punishing me when I already feel inundated with so many thoughts: Did I do the right thing, do others think I caved to my manipulative daughter (honest truth there – she manipulates me like a pro’ however I am better at identifying it and calling her out on it), will Izzy be ready for school in the Fall, will she find friends when she gets there in the Fall, will they be the right group of kids who will understand her and help her grow in positive ways, will she use the strategies she has learned or will she fall to pieces when things don’t go the way she wants or expects, will the teachers and staff listen to her when she advocates die herself. Brad validated each of my fears, and even let me delve further into that fear and take it 10 years down the road to “is she happy, safe, working, still in a positive relationship with me, is she surrounded by people who build her up and help her make good decisions, does she live independently, does she have someone to love her and care for her. And then hopefully decades down the road, will she be ok without me and Todd on this Earth.” These are true and valid fears for my girl…even when she’s only 13 yrs old…and they are thoughts that sometimes keep me up at night. Brad cannot solve those fears, but he can validate them, and he can tell me that we will walk each of those paths together if/when we need to.

I told him that what I want more than anything as an autism mom right now is another autism mom who has been down the road we are currently traveling. Someone I can trust. Someone I can ask questions to, bounce ideas off of, listen to their experiences and learn from them. Someone who understands the highs and lows of having an autistic child. I thought I had that in someone but she turned out to disillusion and disappoint. I am not the person who will join a FB group and look for this person, and I’m not the person who would go to a parent meeting looking for that mentor-type person. I will have to find them another way, but Brad and I can brainstorm that and work on it. I actually have a wonderful patient, who recently came back into my life after almost 3 years who knows our story and who openly shares the journey she’s been on with her own autism daughter. She makes me comfortable sharing the highs and lows of Izzy and she has always told me to call if I need someone to talk to. Maybe she is my person.

Brad reminded me tonight that even though she doesn’t, or can’t tell me in the words and actions that I crave (hugs), that Izzy loves me and trusts me more than anyone in her life. And he reminded me, as we could hear her upstairs singing, that she really is a happy girl. He made me realize that I have spent 13 years learning to “speak her language” and can speak it nearly as well as she can…although there is a large percentage of time that I don’t speak it because while I’ve learned to speak her language, it’s not my native language. And even though my mom guilt tells me that I messed up and I should have done better, I should have known the words to say, it’s ok to not always speak her language….and I know that next time my mom guilt, or my fears creep into the forefront of my mind, he’ll be there to remind me again and again…God gave her to me because He knew I would be able to speak her language when so many can’t and that I have the strength and determination to keep her from straying too far from her path.