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I was hesitant about writing this post because it feels so controversial. Many autistic people want to be accepted and understood by those closest to them, and here I am intentionally isolating myself.
While at first it may seem alienating, people are often surprised to learn that I feel closer to my parents than I ever have. If you feel your autism is creating a distance between you and your parents, this post may be for you.
My Story
When I decided to get an assessment, I only told my mother. Coming from a culture with mental health and general disability stigma, I was not sure how my parents would react. I wanted to use my mom as a test.
My mum wasn’t too pleased to hear of this news, so we didn’t talk about it much after that. When I told her I got my results from my assessment, she said she didn’t want to know.
Of course, I wasn’t happy with her response. I didn’t expect her to be pleased, but I was hoping for a more supportive outcome. Or neutral at minimum. Because of this, I never bothered to tell my dad anything. I didn’t expect him to react much differently.
After that, any talk of autism was censored in the family. When I joined a support group, and my mother asked what for, I simply said “for people like me.” Any autistic symptoms were discussed more generally.
Rather than struggling with alexithymia, for example, I would tell my mum I just needed more time to understand how I was feeling. By this point, she figured I had autism, but we still didn’t talk about it.
Despite this weird censorship, I became closer with my parents. I think this happened because I was learning how to generally support myself in life and better accommodate myself in social situations (such as those with my family). This led to me being in better moods overall.
I also think I became closer with my parents because I didn’t hold any grudges against them about my autism. If I’m feeling better and have no negative feelings toward my parents, why wouldn’t we become closer?
Now you may be thinking that it is difficult to not hold a grudge against your parents. Why can’t they just accept you for who you are? Why do you need to accommodate their wishes, when you’re the one who needs the accommodation?
Why I don’t hold a grudge against my parents
I actually find it hard to be upset with my parents about my autism diagnosis because I think there is so much in their world that makes it harder for them to understand autism. As I mentioned, they grew up in a culture that emphasized the importance of holding a pristine social image—which included being “healthy” (AKA not disabled).
They also grew up during a time where information about autism was (and still is!) scarce. I don’t think it is impossible for them to change their beliefs, but I find it unreasonable to expect them to abandon those beliefs overnight simply because I received an autism diagnosis.
I also find it hard to hold a grudge against my parents because whether we like it or not, our parents don’t want us to be autistic. I don’t mean they are ableist; I mean that our parents don’t want to see us struggle.
My mom doesn’t want to know that she brought me into this world already set with challenges. My dad doesn’t want to feel the guilt and shame associated with not realizing his own child was autistic.
Even if you don’t see your autism as a bad thing, the discovery of a late-autism diagnosis can be unexpected for parents, and as a result they may require some more time to process this change.
Lastly, a late-autism diagnosis can be challenging for parents because it begs the question: Where did the autism come from? For many people, they start to turn within themselves and question whether they have also been autistic this entire time.
If your late-autism diagnosis was difficult for you, imaging that realization for someone much older, who never even thought about the possibility. This experience can be super distressing and make it harder to support a newly diagnosed child, as the parent is now struggling with their own discovery.
Where I’m At Now With My Parents
In the past year, my mum and I finally had a transparent phone call about my autism—almost two years since my diagnosis. She expressed that she no longer felt any negative feelings toward my autism diagnosis.
We recalled an initial conversation we had those years ago, where I asked her: “If being diagnosed with autism means that I can better support myself and get the help I need to improve my life, is it really that bad?” She agreed that it wasn’t bad at all.
Since being diagnosed I’ve been happier, more outgoing, and physically healthier. I’ve strived through various milestones as well: I started living alone (and eventually with a partner) without too much struggle, started graduate school, and maintained healthy relationships.
By giving her time and space to digest the news, she’s changed her view. She is no longer upset that I am autistic; I was always autistic, and that would have never changed otherwise. My mum is now grateful that I finally received the correct diagnosis and support I needed to be my best self.
We both agreed that we learned a lot from each other in this experience. I practiced patience and learned to understand her perspective, while she challenged her previous stigmas about health.
Admittedly, I did get quite emotional after the call. I never anticipated that my parents would finally accept my autism, so it felt surreal to receive the validation and support I always wanted.
A few months after that phone call, my father learned about my autism and ADHD all at once. My mum forgot he did not know and mentioned it around him. I was worried he would be as upset as my mum initially was, but he simply dismissed it.
When I probed him further to understand how he felt, he simply said he did not care. For him, his priority was my health and happiness. If receiving these diagnoses led to that, then he didn’t mind. It felt relieving to hear of his indifference and know he didn’t see me any differently, for better or worse.
Conclusion
My autism journey with my parents isn’t exactly what I dreamed of, but I don’t think I could have asked for a better result. My mum knows this blog exists (I love you, mama), and we’ve discussed the possibility of her joining me to write a post. Is there anything you’d like us to talk about? I’d love to hear your ideas in the comments. While we wait for your responses, next time I will talk about an everyday task that is daunting for many of us: cooking. Stay tuned!
A photo of me with my lovely parents <3
Alternative text: A man and two women stand smiling behind a wooden dining table set for a celebration. On the table sits a white frosted cake topped with a vibrant floral arrangement, two lit pink candles, a glass teapot, and several gift bags.
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