They Don’t Know, What they Don’t Know.

They Don’t Know, What they Don’t Know.

Parents manage many moving parts in their daily lives. Some of those moving parts would make no sense to the outside passerby, but to them, it’s the difference between a successful day and complete chaos. Some parents know their child can manage a grocery store trip with minimal disruptions or incidents. Other parents need to pack noise-canceling headphones, pray the store is not bumper-to-bumper busy, bring toys to support stims (and avoid onlooking negative faces), and hope their child can manage every transition throughout the trip.

At the same time, they’re searching for an item they CAN’T find anywhere, making sure their child stays close by to avoid eloping, realizing they may have forgotten their wallet, hearing their child say the store is too loud, and suddenly needing to find a bathroom immediately. After finally getting their child settled with a device, they make it to the checkout line only to hear someone say, “Hmm, screens are getting out of hand. Can’t even go to the grocery store without them.” Or worse, they receive a judgmental look.

For a parent already juggling so much, it can be enough to make them want to break down.

I start off with this scenario because I have lived through it, heard about it, and know similar things happen often. Way too often. Opinions and funny looks used to crush me. They had me overthinking every decision I made, even when I spent most of my days figuring out what worked best for my child, understanding who they are, and trying to make them happy while also taking care of the household, working, and navigating everyday life.

Not every opinion or word of advice is harmful. Actually, I LOVE reflection, inquisitive questions, or some knowledge. But I’m very good at picking up when something is backhanded, when someone has zero perspective and is just throwing things out, or when someone is leading from a place of love and support versus quick, unthought-out judgment.

Professionals, teachers, and loved ones with nothing but love and support in their hearts are the people I hold close to. Their words mean so much to me. The validation of my feelings, the tough love when needed, and lived experience are all very much wanted, needed, and accepted. Words have power, and quick-witted comments based on a very limited worldview from someone who raised children 35 years ago—and never raised a child with a disability—can hurt deeply.

My advice (if you want some) is to gain tough skin quickly. Don’t get mad at the world or lash out at everyone who makes an irrational comment, dirty look, or uneducated remark about what you should be doing. Instead, allow it to roll off of you. Determine whether the source is helpful and loving, or if the comment simply needs to pass by without your energy attached to it.

Trust me, easier said than done.

I want parents to know that you do not need to defend your choices, especially to people who don’t know you or your child on a daily basis. Give yourself grace. Give other people grace for genuinely not knowing, because you truly don’t know what you don’t know. Most importantly, focus on yourself and your precious children.

Again, nasty comments will always exist. Harmful looks, judgmental tones, and passive or personal comments will eventually be directed toward the most precious and vulnerable person in your world. You will want to take it personally. You will want to overthink and spiral. You will want to get angry or sad.

I would love for you to carefully choose what battles are worth fighting, what information is worth absorbing and applying, and when it’s necessary to completely disregard certain words spoken to you. Also, if necessary respond back and do that however you need to (no judgement here). You have worked too hard, tried too many different things, researched countless options, and experienced the exhausting cycle of trying, failing, and trying again.

Some people may question why your child is not potty trained, without realizing you already tried three different methods, cried, felt defeated, and still kept going. Others may say, “You need to get out more.” Yes, but your nervous system might already be fried. Your child may struggle with loud, busy interactions, and there may not even be a fenced-in playground nearby.

“Wow, they only eat ___? My child eats four servings of vegetables a day!”

Fantastic. Mine threw up from a strange texture the other day, and forcing foods will only make eating worse.

*Judgmental looks at your messy house.*

Hey, you don’t need to explain yourself. They likely have no idea how hard things can be and have probably never once offered to help you. That says more about them than it does you.

It’s not from a lack of trying, love, or effort. It’s hard. All of it is hard. Be kind and graceful with yourself. Allow these things to roll off of you so you can avoid carrying even more stress, hurt, and overthinking.

You may have been thrust into a life you are still trying to quickly understand and navigate. That is true for all parents, but especially for parents raising a disabled child or a child on the spectrum.

Take what you want from this and leave what you don’t. Your choice, my friend.

Keep going.