Today is not a day to cross me. Today, I have worked too hard to be told that I am not doing enough. If this has happened to you too, then pour that cup of coffee, and I promise to turn a blind eye if you want to add in something stronger, because today, I will abuse my keyboard for our vindication.

It all started when I was told that I am not creating a realistic environment for my teenage daughter to thrive in. To be fair, she is thriving. She is finally thriving! It has taken 15 years of struggle, of hardship, of feeling trapped inside our house, but dammit we can now leave the house without WWIII, we eat a variety of foods, we sleep, we laugh. For me and my war torn body, that is enough. It is more than enough. It is 15 years of toil, and I want to soak up the victory for a lifetime. While I will keep working, keep punching that clock for a paycheck, I could survive off the interest. 

But some people just want to take you down a notch. Listen in: 

Them: Ok, but you have your daughter in a school that caters to her unique challenges. How will she survive the real world? How will she go to a university? Get a job? You can’t helicopter parent her forever. You aren’t doing her justice like this.

Me: speechless.

Them: Shouldn’t you create a more ‘real world’ environment so that she understands? 

Me: speechless.

End scene.

To quote Hamlet, “aye, there’s the rub.” You see, that line of reasoning is terribly flawed and ableist. Why is it not okay to send your child to a school that caters to their unique neurotype? Why can’t she do the same in university? In the workplace? 

Her autism will not go away if I make her a miserable round peg lodged uncomfortably in a square hole. Can’t she do an online university? Can’t universities adapt too, as my child surely isn’t the only one who is in need of a bachelors, a masters, a PhD, and may need many accommodations due to her autism? Hasn’t Covid shown us that working from home is quite lucrative for a company?

To quote my daughter, who is just as prolific as Hamlet at times, “it is not a disability problem, it is an accessibility problem.”

Why couldn’t I have responded like that? Why was I rendered speechless? Grrr. Maybe because I’m a non-autistic woman, so blatant honesty doesn’t come as easily for me. 

Next time, I think I will just look coldly at my accusers and say,  “Screw your real world! I already live there, with my daughter, and it is a better world than yours because it includes everyone.”