Rainbows, glitter and unicorns...
I received a message today from a mom who has an autistic son the same age as Alex. Here’s part of what she said, “Please. Tell me what you do to make him so happy. How do you do it? How are you able to take him anywhere and everywhere and always have fun? I don’t get it. I feel like a failure. I’m a terrible mom. Seems we can hardly go anywhere. What do I do?”
Let me first say a few things before I get to the heart of the matter. Alex IS a happy young man. There’s nothing I did to make him that way. Is it luck? A blessing? Genetics? Personality? All of the above? I don’t know. We are so incredibly fortunate to not have behavior struggles, but it isn’t because I did some magical “thing”. I’ve loved and cared for him the best way I’ve known how. That’s it. Just because he doesn’t struggle with aggressive or severe behavior doesn’t mean he doesn’t struggle. As a family, we have struggles. Just like every other family in the world.
We selectively present the best versions of ourselves and our loved ones on social media. We only share that which is the prettiest. The trip to Hot Springs was fun and we had a great time, but it wasn’t all rainbows, glitter, and unicorns. Let me tell you what I didn’t take pictures of or share on Facebook and Instagram...
On Thursday night, the little pool at our hotel was packed. Kids and adults everywhere. It was loud and chaotic with hardly room to swim around leisurely. Alex wanted to swim so badly but also wanted to run as far away from that scene as he could. It was an internal battle for him, and for me. We didn’t swim on Thursday night, and while it was the best decision it wasn’t an easy one.
When we first arrived at the museum and Alex heard the display of dinosaurs roaring, he plugged his ears with his fingers, and I wasn’t sure we were going to make it through the front doors.
He enjoyed many of the exhibits, yes, you saw those. Guess what? He hated many of them too.
There were lots of people. Lots. It was loud and some kids were crying and yelling and fighting, and he cannot stand all that noise. We were strategically shuffling him back and forth to move him away from triggers as often as possible. It was rather exhausting.
That net bridge we walked across? Did he love it? No! Did I love it? Heck no! Scared me to death! It took lots of coaxing and encouraging to get him through that. But he did it. It’s what we do. It may have taken him twice as long, it may have been hard, we may have been in the way, and it may not have been pretty, but HE DID IT!
Even though he definitely had a good time overall, he was on high alert. Under the surface, and at times bubbling over the surface, anxiety was there. It’s that pesky, awful thing that never completely goes away. He worked through it because that’s what he usually does. We pull out all the tools in our tool belt. Sometimes we succeed. Sometimes we fail. But we always try.
We have intentionally taken him anywhere and everywhere since he was very small. To practice. To acclimate. To learn. To expose. To be exposed. Keeping him home has never been an option. That’s not best for society, it’s not best for our family, and it’s certainly not best for him.
When we left the museum yesterday, the minute we got in the truck and he got his seatbelt buckled, he burst into tears. Why? I don’t really know. We comforted him and talked him through it. It lasted about 5 minutes or so and then he was himself again. My guess is he was releasing the anxiety he held in while we were at the museum.
How do I know he enjoyed himself? He’s asked to go back 992 times. Since 8 this morning.
Here’s my point -
We, as social media users, mute the struggles and amplify the joys. Of course we do. We paint the portraits of our own lives so that we show only the blessings and happiness. We show our brave face when we are feeling less than brave.
Would you ever guess there is this thing? It’s called the future. The unknown. The what if’s. It monopolizes my heart and brain and is the number one, top of the list, constant worry that keeps me up at night. It’s relentless. It’s daunting. It never lets up. There are times it takes me to very sad places. Like wondering about what the odds are of me living one minute longer than Alex. Pondering if it would be a sin to actually pray to live just 60 seconds longer than him. Or 5 seconds longer. Isn’t that shameful? Did you know that? Would you suspect it by looking at my social media accounts?
While I will always preserve Alex’s dignity, and you will never see me post images of his private struggles, by not acknowledging and discussing hard things, we create a facade that has made those who are struggling feel isolated and alone. Our friends who are suffering and hurting wonder how they could be getting things so wrong while someone with situations similar to them seems to get everything so right.
It sometimes helps to realize everyone has their struggles. Everyone. You’re never alone. Behind the scenes, in every life, there is heartbreak, illness, depression, anxiety, the loss of a job, arguments with spouses, disagreements with family, loneliness, bitterness, financial difficulties, loss.
When I am authentic and transparent, people always wonder and some will outright ask,...”are you happy”? Of course I’m happy. How could I not be happy? I have been given so much more than I have ever or will ever deserve. I am infinitely blessed. Do I struggle? Yes. Sometimes, terribly.
What do I do? How do I cope? “Thin slices of joy.” Chade-Meng Tan, Google’s former happiness guru, explains that “thin slices of joy” events are unremarkable: a bite of food, the sensation of stepping from a hot room to an air-conditioned room, the moment of connection in receiving a text from an old friend, a hot bubble bath at the end of a long day. Although they last two or three seconds, the moments add up, and the more you notice joy, the more you will experience joy, Tan argues. “Thin slices of joy occur in life everywhere… and once you start noticing it, something happens, you find it’s always there.”
In those moments, on those days where life feels like it might swallow you whole, look for thin slices of joy. Be intentional. Find the joy. I promise it is around you, and it can be within you too. You only have to begin to notice.
Post your joy. We all want to see and hear the positive side of things. Consider stepping outside of the norm and posting about your struggles too. You never know who might need to hear the version that doesn’t include the rainbows, glitter, and unicorns.
Let me first say a few things before I get to the heart of the matter. Alex IS a happy young man. There’s nothing I did to make him that way. Is it luck? A blessing? Genetics? Personality? All of the above? I don’t know. We are so incredibly fortunate to not have behavior struggles, but it isn’t because I did some magical “thing”. I’ve loved and cared for him the best way I’ve known how. That’s it. Just because he doesn’t struggle with aggressive or severe behavior doesn’t mean he doesn’t struggle. As a family, we have struggles. Just like every other family in the world.
We selectively present the best versions of ourselves and our loved ones on social media. We only share that which is the prettiest. The trip to Hot Springs was fun and we had a great time, but it wasn’t all rainbows, glitter, and unicorns. Let me tell you what I didn’t take pictures of or share on Facebook and Instagram...
On Thursday night, the little pool at our hotel was packed. Kids and adults everywhere. It was loud and chaotic with hardly room to swim around leisurely. Alex wanted to swim so badly but also wanted to run as far away from that scene as he could. It was an internal battle for him, and for me. We didn’t swim on Thursday night, and while it was the best decision it wasn’t an easy one.
When we first arrived at the museum and Alex heard the display of dinosaurs roaring, he plugged his ears with his fingers, and I wasn’t sure we were going to make it through the front doors.
He enjoyed many of the exhibits, yes, you saw those. Guess what? He hated many of them too.
There were lots of people. Lots. It was loud and some kids were crying and yelling and fighting, and he cannot stand all that noise. We were strategically shuffling him back and forth to move him away from triggers as often as possible. It was rather exhausting.
That net bridge we walked across? Did he love it? No! Did I love it? Heck no! Scared me to death! It took lots of coaxing and encouraging to get him through that. But he did it. It’s what we do. It may have taken him twice as long, it may have been hard, we may have been in the way, and it may not have been pretty, but HE DID IT!
Even though he definitely had a good time overall, he was on high alert. Under the surface, and at times bubbling over the surface, anxiety was there. It’s that pesky, awful thing that never completely goes away. He worked through it because that’s what he usually does. We pull out all the tools in our tool belt. Sometimes we succeed. Sometimes we fail. But we always try.
We have intentionally taken him anywhere and everywhere since he was very small. To practice. To acclimate. To learn. To expose. To be exposed. Keeping him home has never been an option. That’s not best for society, it’s not best for our family, and it’s certainly not best for him.
When we left the museum yesterday, the minute we got in the truck and he got his seatbelt buckled, he burst into tears. Why? I don’t really know. We comforted him and talked him through it. It lasted about 5 minutes or so and then he was himself again. My guess is he was releasing the anxiety he held in while we were at the museum.
How do I know he enjoyed himself? He’s asked to go back 992 times. Since 8 this morning.
Here’s my point -
We, as social media users, mute the struggles and amplify the joys. Of course we do. We paint the portraits of our own lives so that we show only the blessings and happiness. We show our brave face when we are feeling less than brave.
Would you ever guess there is this thing? It’s called the future. The unknown. The what if’s. It monopolizes my heart and brain and is the number one, top of the list, constant worry that keeps me up at night. It’s relentless. It’s daunting. It never lets up. There are times it takes me to very sad places. Like wondering about what the odds are of me living one minute longer than Alex. Pondering if it would be a sin to actually pray to live just 60 seconds longer than him. Or 5 seconds longer. Isn’t that shameful? Did you know that? Would you suspect it by looking at my social media accounts?
While I will always preserve Alex’s dignity, and you will never see me post images of his private struggles, by not acknowledging and discussing hard things, we create a facade that has made those who are struggling feel isolated and alone. Our friends who are suffering and hurting wonder how they could be getting things so wrong while someone with situations similar to them seems to get everything so right.
It sometimes helps to realize everyone has their struggles. Everyone. You’re never alone. Behind the scenes, in every life, there is heartbreak, illness, depression, anxiety, the loss of a job, arguments with spouses, disagreements with family, loneliness, bitterness, financial difficulties, loss.
When I am authentic and transparent, people always wonder and some will outright ask,...”are you happy”? Of course I’m happy. How could I not be happy? I have been given so much more than I have ever or will ever deserve. I am infinitely blessed. Do I struggle? Yes. Sometimes, terribly.
What do I do? How do I cope? “Thin slices of joy.” Chade-Meng Tan, Google’s former happiness guru, explains that “thin slices of joy” events are unremarkable: a bite of food, the sensation of stepping from a hot room to an air-conditioned room, the moment of connection in receiving a text from an old friend, a hot bubble bath at the end of a long day. Although they last two or three seconds, the moments add up, and the more you notice joy, the more you will experience joy, Tan argues. “Thin slices of joy occur in life everywhere… and once you start noticing it, something happens, you find it’s always there.”
In those moments, on those days where life feels like it might swallow you whole, look for thin slices of joy. Be intentional. Find the joy. I promise it is around you, and it can be within you too. You only have to begin to notice.
Post your joy. We all want to see and hear the positive side of things. Consider stepping outside of the norm and posting about your struggles too. You never know who might need to hear the version that doesn’t include the rainbows, glitter, and unicorns.
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