If we were in a family tug of war, it was one we couldn’t see. We knew that our deck of cards were quite different from those around us. The trials of a special needs family was a dynamic that we lived as a trial by fire.
This is where social media hurt us. Our pictures made our story look poetic. We had three beautiful kids who ate ice cream as a treat. They would go bowling. They would bounce on a trampoline. We were just like anyone else if you wanted to click the like button. It was my fault. It’s what I wanted life to be.
Pictures were a facade. They didn’t show Sawyer not talking many words. It didn’t show his screaming in a grocery store because I couldn’t understand what he was saying. It didn’t show my inability to truly connect with my son.
A picture was my hope. My attempt to convince myself that we were living just like everyone else. I mean if pictures depict happiness than it must be the real thing?
That’s what Autism brought to me at times. A truck load of confusion and blurred vision on what was real and what was not.
I had many moments of not enjoying what was because I was scared to understand what and who we were. They were my insecurities about the unknown and I hoped things would be fixed to what I was willing to show.
It was remarkable what was truly hidden in my pictures.