This is a lovely piece. I am not a parent. I am a late diagnosed Autistic man. I won't offer any advice that would likely only add the catalogue of what's already been said and isn't helpful. I really related to what you wrote about how so often what we say we later regret, language fails. Always, speaking for myself, there are so many utterances I've said in anger and clumsiness I'd pay good money to erase, along with the shame that goes with it. So, I will add nothing but this: I enjoy watching actors talk about their craft. When asked about how one memorizes lines, Matthew McConaughey said he didn't. He studied the words and the what they were trying to communicate. Then the said this: If I can communicate a paragraph worth of dialogue in a look or gesture, I do that. Blew my mind.
Thank you for your kind words and for sharing. It can be so difficult not to say the wrong words or something hurtful when we're angry (and just as difficult to forgive ourselves). I also appreciate how this anecdote you've shared reinforces how much we can communicate with a look or gesture—it's easy to underestimate how much they can say/reveal. Thank you again for sharing.
This is so beautiful, and had me tearing up by the end. Some parts of parenting are universal, and that love is like nothing else. Also, I could feel the fatigue you describe, both physical and emotional, in my bones. We all have our version of it.
I also just finished, maybe a month ago, Kate Swenson's memoir, Forever Boy. At the end, I felt such gratitude for her bravery in sharing her journey of motherhood and autism, and building awareness as a result. I can see how this piece may have been hard to write and then to share too, but I'm so glad you did. Thank you, Jacob!
Thank you Maria! It means so much to me that this post resonated with you. You're absolutely right about some of these parenting universals—love and fatigue being two of them! We do indeed all have our version of it. Swenson's memoir is on my reading list! I'm looking forward to diving into it (hopefully over summer). Thank you for reading and for your support as always Maria!
This is the most beautiful piece I've ever read. Language does fail, it's failing me right now. But I'm thankful it didn't fail you in the telling of this story. Thank you for the reminder that while language does fail, Love does not. Ever.
I’ll probably come back to this post several times over the next few days as it camps out in my mind, feeding my curiosity of other humans and their experiences. Thank you for your vulnerability and beautiful words—posts like these grow our compassion, understanding, and empathy.
But I also agree with what Maria wrote: some parts of parenting are universal. While I do not have any experience with parenting or even being close to someone who is parenting a child with autism, I had a “me too” moment as I read this. I also (selfishly) want to hear my children (all young adults now) tell me they love me and that it would matter if I was no longer on this earth—and wonder why I can’t just love them in the best way I can and not need that validation from them.
So you’ve given me a new perspective—one where I don’t need to hear the words. They convey their love for me when they hug me a little longer than normal or when they call me for advice or when they tear up when they see me after a prolonged absence. I’m going to pay better attention now to the unspoken “I love yous.”
This is such a beautiful and thoughtful comment Holly—thank you. I appreciate you sharing your experience. Maria is absolutely right: there are so many universals to the parenting experience. It can be so difficult, and I suppose it makes sense that we sometimes want—or need—to hear the "I love yous," to get the validation that in turn gives us more energy to be the best parents we can be. But, to your observation about your children and to what I've attempted to sketch here in this post, perhaps there are other places to discover this unspoken love. It's definitely an ongoing process. Thank you again for sharing and being here with me while I try to figure this all out!
Thank you for your kind words, and I'm so happy to hear this post connected you to a moment with your daughter. If you end up writing about it, please do share! I'd love to read it 😊
I appreciate the amount of courage you have to write this piece, Jacob. I admire it. And as a parent myself I empathize with the challenges involved in communicating with children. Self-doubt, guilt, and worry often get in the way of my parenting. Thank you for sharing.
Beautifully written. Not advice, but I will tell you what helped me:
1. White noise machine in my son's room for sleeping
2. A weighted blanket for sleeping
3. A community of parents of children with special needs. I was an older 1st time mom, so my friends had older kids. It forced me to go outside my circle to find a group of parents who understood my challenges. It also took a lot of anxiety away when making playdates.
Thank you Amy. I haven't tried a weighted blanket yet, but that's a good idea. I'll look into it now that he's older and actually likes having blankets around (he's always kicked them off until recently). And, yes, you're right about the need for community. We just moved to a new state, so we're slowly trying to connect with resources and other parents of children with special needs. Being around other parents who understand definitely helps alleviate some of the anxiety when it comes to the kids playing.
Jacob, first off, your publication looks great and professional. I love the video intro. I have no skills in that area, but it definitely adds to the appeal of your articles.
I enjoyed the article. It is heartfelt and vulnerable. My son has Asperger's syndrome and did not speak until he was four. It is hard. I went through all those same emotions you are going through. I was in my late 20s at the time. He was our firstborn. Suffice it to say I wasn't as mature or patient as I am now. It was frustrating, and the autism spectrum was still very much an unknown quantity in those days. It wasn't easy to find information that made sense. My wife and I struggled a lot because we wanted the best for our son; we wanted to ensure he would have the ability to function on his own someday, and, like you, as new parents, we wanted to hear our son's words.
I would like to tell you it gets easier, but I haven't found that to be the case. Every situation is different. Our son is 20 now and in college. He speaks and functions in society. Most people would probably not realize he was on the spectrum unless you have an in-depth conversation with him. But as a parent, there are still lots of challenges and fears. His world is black and white, with no shades of gray and no nuance.
Over the years I have found that the best thing I can do for my son is to be present. When language escaped him, our presence comforted him, and so it has throughout the years. Autism doesn't heal. Progress can be made in many areas, but there will always be things our children need help with. My job as a father is to love my son, which I will continue to do. Keep up the great work. I believe your son knows in the core of his being, even if he hasn't yet found a way to express that.
Matthew, thank you for this beautiful comment and for sharing your experiences with your son. It means a lot to me. Part of the reason I started dad trying was to have the type of exchange we're having now; being able to talk with other dads and parents about these challenges helps and makes things feel more manageable. And, you're absolutely right about presence and the value of being there and loving unconditionally.
Again, thanks for all the kind words and for sharing your experiences.
Thank you Anna! This means so much to me. I'm grateful this piece resonated with you. This is the type of comment that makes me happy to be here on Substack.
A beautiful essay. I have found out in my later years--I am 66-- that communication comes in many forms. One can communicate love without ever saying the words.
Thank you so much Perry! I'm learning this lesson as well: you don't need words to communicate your love. I appreciate you being here and your kind words.
Beautiful, honest sharing. Thank you. Your son absolutely embodies love. Energy transfers without words. And your son knows that communication method intrinsically. 💞
This is exquisitely beautiful, so touching. My three year old loved a book called Three Squeezes, it’s not autism related but it’s about how the act of three squeezes (hugs) gets passed down generations to communicate love.
Thank you Sarina for your kind words and for mentioning this book. It sounds like I should check it out! But thank you again for your kindness, support, and taking the time to comment—it's so appreciated.
This is a lovely piece. I am not a parent. I am a late diagnosed Autistic man. I won't offer any advice that would likely only add the catalogue of what's already been said and isn't helpful. I really related to what you wrote about how so often what we say we later regret, language fails. Always, speaking for myself, there are so many utterances I've said in anger and clumsiness I'd pay good money to erase, along with the shame that goes with it. So, I will add nothing but this: I enjoy watching actors talk about their craft. When asked about how one memorizes lines, Matthew McConaughey said he didn't. He studied the words and the what they were trying to communicate. Then the said this: If I can communicate a paragraph worth of dialogue in a look or gesture, I do that. Blew my mind.
Thank you for your kind words and for sharing. It can be so difficult not to say the wrong words or something hurtful when we're angry (and just as difficult to forgive ourselves). I also appreciate how this anecdote you've shared reinforces how much we can communicate with a look or gesture—it's easy to underestimate how much they can say/reveal. Thank you again for sharing.
You are very welcome!
This is so beautiful, and had me tearing up by the end. Some parts of parenting are universal, and that love is like nothing else. Also, I could feel the fatigue you describe, both physical and emotional, in my bones. We all have our version of it.
I also just finished, maybe a month ago, Kate Swenson's memoir, Forever Boy. At the end, I felt such gratitude for her bravery in sharing her journey of motherhood and autism, and building awareness as a result. I can see how this piece may have been hard to write and then to share too, but I'm so glad you did. Thank you, Jacob!
Thank you Maria! It means so much to me that this post resonated with you. You're absolutely right about some of these parenting universals—love and fatigue being two of them! We do indeed all have our version of it. Swenson's memoir is on my reading list! I'm looking forward to diving into it (hopefully over summer). Thank you for reading and for your support as always Maria!
Good job on this article. It was honest, sincere and heartwarming. He knows and feels everything you hope he does.
Thank you so much Jim! That means a lot. I appreciate your kind words. Thanks for being here.
This is the most beautiful piece I've ever read. Language does fail, it's failing me right now. But I'm thankful it didn't fail you in the telling of this story. Thank you for the reminder that while language does fail, Love does not. Ever.
Wow Nancy! Such a kind, moving comment! Thank you so much—it means a lot to me. I really do appreciate it. Thank you for being here 😊🥹
I’ll probably come back to this post several times over the next few days as it camps out in my mind, feeding my curiosity of other humans and their experiences. Thank you for your vulnerability and beautiful words—posts like these grow our compassion, understanding, and empathy.
But I also agree with what Maria wrote: some parts of parenting are universal. While I do not have any experience with parenting or even being close to someone who is parenting a child with autism, I had a “me too” moment as I read this. I also (selfishly) want to hear my children (all young adults now) tell me they love me and that it would matter if I was no longer on this earth—and wonder why I can’t just love them in the best way I can and not need that validation from them.
So you’ve given me a new perspective—one where I don’t need to hear the words. They convey their love for me when they hug me a little longer than normal or when they call me for advice or when they tear up when they see me after a prolonged absence. I’m going to pay better attention now to the unspoken “I love yous.”
This is such a beautiful and thoughtful comment Holly—thank you. I appreciate you sharing your experience. Maria is absolutely right: there are so many universals to the parenting experience. It can be so difficult, and I suppose it makes sense that we sometimes want—or need—to hear the "I love yous," to get the validation that in turn gives us more energy to be the best parents we can be. But, to your observation about your children and to what I've attempted to sketch here in this post, perhaps there are other places to discover this unspoken love. It's definitely an ongoing process. Thank you again for sharing and being here with me while I try to figure this all out!
This is beautiful. It takes me to a moment with my daughter, last night. I think what you've written here is going to be my writing prompt for today.
Thank you for your kind words, and I'm so happy to hear this post connected you to a moment with your daughter. If you end up writing about it, please do share! I'd love to read it 😊
I did it :) Here it is:
https://open.substack.com/pub/honestlywritten/p/mama-is-trying?r=38s6n0&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true
Loved reading your piece! So beautiful and vulnerable. I left my comment over there. Thank you for sharing 😊
I really enjoyed it :) Thanks for the inspiration.
What a gift you two are two each other. Thank you for sharing this piece of your heart with us.
Thank you Kristine! This is such a beautiful comment. I appreciate your kind words. Happy you're here.
I appreciate the amount of courage you have to write this piece, Jacob. I admire it. And as a parent myself I empathize with the challenges involved in communicating with children. Self-doubt, guilt, and worry often get in the way of my parenting. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you Jesse! I appreciate the kind words. It's nice to know I'm not alone. Thank you for sharing, and I'm glad you're here!
Beautifully written. Not advice, but I will tell you what helped me:
1. White noise machine in my son's room for sleeping
2. A weighted blanket for sleeping
3. A community of parents of children with special needs. I was an older 1st time mom, so my friends had older kids. It forced me to go outside my circle to find a group of parents who understood my challenges. It also took a lot of anxiety away when making playdates.
Thank you Amy. I haven't tried a weighted blanket yet, but that's a good idea. I'll look into it now that he's older and actually likes having blankets around (he's always kicked them off until recently). And, yes, you're right about the need for community. We just moved to a new state, so we're slowly trying to connect with resources and other parents of children with special needs. Being around other parents who understand definitely helps alleviate some of the anxiety when it comes to the kids playing.
Thank you for sharing and for being here!
Jacob, first off, your publication looks great and professional. I love the video intro. I have no skills in that area, but it definitely adds to the appeal of your articles.
I enjoyed the article. It is heartfelt and vulnerable. My son has Asperger's syndrome and did not speak until he was four. It is hard. I went through all those same emotions you are going through. I was in my late 20s at the time. He was our firstborn. Suffice it to say I wasn't as mature or patient as I am now. It was frustrating, and the autism spectrum was still very much an unknown quantity in those days. It wasn't easy to find information that made sense. My wife and I struggled a lot because we wanted the best for our son; we wanted to ensure he would have the ability to function on his own someday, and, like you, as new parents, we wanted to hear our son's words.
I would like to tell you it gets easier, but I haven't found that to be the case. Every situation is different. Our son is 20 now and in college. He speaks and functions in society. Most people would probably not realize he was on the spectrum unless you have an in-depth conversation with him. But as a parent, there are still lots of challenges and fears. His world is black and white, with no shades of gray and no nuance.
Over the years I have found that the best thing I can do for my son is to be present. When language escaped him, our presence comforted him, and so it has throughout the years. Autism doesn't heal. Progress can be made in many areas, but there will always be things our children need help with. My job as a father is to love my son, which I will continue to do. Keep up the great work. I believe your son knows in the core of his being, even if he hasn't yet found a way to express that.
Matthew, thank you for this beautiful comment and for sharing your experiences with your son. It means a lot to me. Part of the reason I started dad trying was to have the type of exchange we're having now; being able to talk with other dads and parents about these challenges helps and makes things feel more manageable. And, you're absolutely right about presence and the value of being there and loving unconditionally.
Again, thanks for all the kind words and for sharing your experiences.
So beautifully touching, so heartbreaking, so hope-filled.. I have tears in my eyes. Sending blessings to you and your family. ❤
Thank you Anna! This means so much to me. I'm grateful this piece resonated with you. This is the type of comment that makes me happy to be here on Substack.
A beautiful essay. I have found out in my later years--I am 66-- that communication comes in many forms. One can communicate love without ever saying the words.
Thank you so much Perry! I'm learning this lesson as well: you don't need words to communicate your love. I appreciate you being here and your kind words.
What a beautiful piece of writing. Your lovely son is safe with you x
Thank you Katie! Such a beautiful comment. It means a lot—appreciate it!
Beautiful article! Brought tears in my eyes and made my heart swell, thank you for sharing.
Thank you Morgane! I appreciate your kind words and you taking the time to read it. I'm glad you're here!
Beautiful, honest sharing. Thank you. Your son absolutely embodies love. Energy transfers without words. And your son knows that communication method intrinsically. 💞
Thank you Shaista. I appreciate the kind words, and you're right: it's about transferring energy, what's felt, and not what is said.
This is exquisitely beautiful, so touching. My three year old loved a book called Three Squeezes, it’s not autism related but it’s about how the act of three squeezes (hugs) gets passed down generations to communicate love.
Your piece made me think of this.
Thank you for your words 💜
Thank you Sarina for your kind words and for mentioning this book. It sounds like I should check it out! But thank you again for your kindness, support, and taking the time to comment—it's so appreciated.