The Things People Say vs. The Reality

There are a few phrases I hear over and over again as an autism parent.

Most of them are well-meaning.
Some of them sting a little.
All of them remind me just how much people don’t see.

Because what people say… and what our reality actually is… are often two very different things.

“How do you stay so calm?”

I get this one a lot.

The easy answer? Because I have to.

But the truth is… sometimes I don’t.

Sometimes I lose it. Sometimes I get overstimulated, overwhelmed, and pushed past my limit. I’m human. I’m learning too—just like Dakota is. Learning how to regulate when everything feels loud and heavy and too much.

And if I’m being really honest, this journey has made me realize something about myself too: there’s an almost certainty that I’m neurodivergent as well.

So no, I don’t always stay calm.

But I come back. I repair. I try again. Over and over.

Because that’s what she needs from me.

“I could never handle that.”

I know people mean this as empathy.

But the truth is—you could.

Because if it were your child, you wouldn’t have a choice. You would figure it out the same way we all do.

As parents, we all face big moments. Hard moments. Overwhelming, messy, exhausting seasons. Adding an autism diagnosis doesn’t take that away—it just changes what it looks like.

At her core, Dakota is still three.

We’ve gone through potty training. School mornings. Tantrums. Meltdowns. Picky eating. Bedtime struggles. All of it.

It just looks a little different than parenting a neurotypical child.

So yes—you could handle it.

Because you already handle hard things every single day.

“She just needs…”

Ahhhh. My favorite.

“She just needs to eat this.”
“She just needs more discipline.”
“She just needs to…”

We hear this one a lot.

And for a long time, it was hard not to take it personally.

But here’s the truth: I’ve tried everything.

And when something doesn’t work for Dakota, it just doesn’t work. Not because we aren’t trying hard enough—but because her needs are different.

I’ve learned not to carry those comments anymore.

If there’s one thing this life has given me, it’s thick skin.

And also clarity.

Because when people say, “She looks fine” or “She looks like every other kid”… they’re right.

She does look like every other child.

She also works twice as hard behind the scenes to keep up in a world that isn’t built for her.

And that’s what makes her extraordinary.

Our Reality

Here’s the part I wish more people understood:

Our life is different… but also the same.

Our days probably follow a lot of the same rhythms as yours. We wake up, get ready, go to school, make meals, navigate emotions, and try to make it through the day.

But layered into all of that are things you might not see.

Regulation before school.
Sensory needs throughout the day.
Safe foods—sometimes one specific brand, made one specific way.
Transitions that take more time.
Moments that require more patience, more intention, more understanding.

And yes—there are times I think… I wouldn’t choose this for her. Not the hard parts. Not the overwhelm. Not the moments where everything feels too big for her little body.

I don’t know if she would choose it for herself either.

But the truth is—we don’t get to choose.

What we do get to choose is how we show up in it.

How we support her.
How we learn.
How we grow right alongside her.

Instead of telling us what we “should” be doing, come closer. Learn what support actually looks like for our family. Laugh with us in the light moments, stand with us in the hard ones, and take the time to understand what autism looks like in our everyday life.

Because this—this is exactly why we created this nonprofit in the first place.

Community isn’t just something nice to have.
It’s what carries us through.

- Alison Fetters