Here Comes the Autistic Bride!

To clarify, I am not announcing to the world that my daughter is going to be a teenage bride. Over my cold, dead body. And even then I might haunt the wedding to whisper my objections. 

In truth, my daughter is not interested in relationships yet, even at a more basic level. And to be totally honest, she’s only become interested in a relationship with me this summer. Sure, we have always had a mother-daughter bond, but all of the sudden, she sees me as a human sometimes instead of just the commander-in-chief. 

You see, this summer, something shifted. In some ways, it happened suddenly. I told myself that this summer would be our “summer of yes.” I told myself that even if I had to fight the tantrums to get us out of the house, that we were going to do something fun every day, even if it was just for a few minutes. I told myself that if my daughter asked to do something with me, because she never does, that within reason, the answer would always be an unequivocal YES!

Every. Single. Day. Of. Summer. Every single day of summer I would get us out for an adventure. Even if it turned out not to be fun. Even if it rained. Even if she cried. Even if I cried.

And the glorious thing is…it has worked! Yes, we have both had bad experiences here and there. But even those are getting better. 

On Saturday nights we often find ourselves overlooking a spot where brides and grooms take wedding photos while their party begins the celebration. Last week, as we looked down over the banister to admire the bride’s gown this week, my daughter said she wondered if she would ever get married. In her signature style, she added that she would only allow guests if they brought their pets along. 

It stopped me in my tracks. Until this summer, my daughter was not even fully connecting with me, her own mother. The thought that she might even imagine a marriage, no matter how that looks, was new to both of us.

Last spring I could never have imagined this summer. I could never have imagined a pet infested wedding or even a daily adventure with my girl. Last spring, if I would have told my daughter that I signed her up for swimming lessons that start Friday, I would have known that we would never actually make it into the pool. 

But swimming lessons start on Friday morning. And even though I know we may have some rough moments getting to the pool, I know we will get there. Because this summer my girl said, and I quote, “I guess I better be a good swimmer if I want to be a good marine biologist someday.” 

I don’t care if my daughter marries, if she doesn’t want to do that. And I don’t care if she becomes a marine biologist, if she doesn’t want to do that either. But I do want to create a world where she has the chance to do whatever it is that will make her happy. And for the first time in 15 years I am all of the sudden getting a glimpse into her many possibilities. 

AIF started its work on equitable working environments for autistic employees because everyone deserves to be able to envision their best life. We started it for my daughter, and yours. We started it for your grandson. We started it for you too. And that includes you, even if you do not have autism. 

My daughter would make a damn good marine biologist if she decides that for herself. And I will get her in that pool if it kills me on Friday.