So, What?

For the last six months or so there’s been a word invading my headspace, my home, my family, and my life. That word is Autism.  About a month after Ellanor started speech therapy, the therapist along with her Pediatrician and myself (to be honest) were having concerns that maybe she had more than a speech and language delay.  And, so began the testings and referrals. After each assessment, as the professionals looked to Nick and I with tilted heads, soft eyes and sorry smiles, my heart would sink and I would leave feeling utterly defeated.

I spent the last months going through sort of a grieving process I guess you could say. There have been times where I am in complete denial. Times where I am filled with so much rage I want to stick both middle fingers up to the sky and say FUCK THE WORLD AND EVERYONE IN IT. Then there are times when I can’t stop crying. Every song on the radio, every child I see playing, every person I talk to about it, every time Ellanor flaps or walks on her tip toes, I cry and cry and cry. And then, like a jolt of sudden energy, I am optimistic and I am reading and learning and involving myself in everything Autism just for this vicious cycle to repeat itself. It has been exhausting to say the least and the funniest part is that she hasn’t even received a diagnosis yet.

For a long while, I was feeling very sorry for myself. Everyone I would talk to would share their thoughts on the matter usually with an agreement that “It must be hard” and “I’m so sorry you’re going through this” and “I think she will be fine” as if having autism means you are not “fine”.  All of these conversations I feel had loving intentions but they would only affirm to me that I was indeed a victim and had a right to this self-pity state I was in. But, like every time in my life where I’ve felt like I was drowning, God always throws me something to float on and this time it was in the form of two words that came from what I will call an earth angel.

I hadn’t seen this earth angel in a very long time and while we were doing the typical “So good to see you, how have you been!?”  I started in on my pity party by telling her all about Ellanor possibly having autism. At first, she didn’t say anything. Just looked at me and watched as my face got hot and my eyes welled with tears about to spill and that is when she said the two most beautiful words I have ever heard, “So, what?”

She was relaxed, not smiling at all, but also not cold at all. She truly, warm-heartedly, thought, so what if she has autism?  The blunt response took me by surprise and I nearly choked as I laughed, tears rolling down my face. I nodded my head crying, smiling, and agreeing.

“Yeah,” I said, “You’re so right.”

After that conversation, those two simple yet powerful words have become my mantra and I started thinking…

So what if she learns a little differently?

So what if she colours outside the lines?

So what if she spins herself into silliness and laughs hysterically by herself while looking up at the ceiling? *we need more people like this in my opinion*

So what if she isn’t considered to be developing or playing or behaving normally like her peers? What is normal anyway?

So what if she is diagnosed with Autism? Or ADHD or Anxiety or OCD or ODD or any other “disorder” they come up with.

What if she grows up and says she is gay or transgender? So What.

So what, so what, so what.

My love for her is unconditional. It is unchangeable, unstoppable, Almighty.

And, while I continue on this journey not knowing what the future holds, I will try my best to have this so what attitude and mindset.  Because, as of right now, so long as we have our health and our love, nothing else matters.

❤

xo,

alyssa

Little Rebel

I’ve always had a little bit of rebel in me, just the teeniest tiniest amount, but enough to want to be different and not follow the crowd.  I remember as a kid I would wear baggy t-shirts when the other girls would wear dresses, I listened to rap when everyone was listening to pop, I got my tongue pierced before it became popular, and I would always be nice to the kids that were bullied even if it was in a cowardly way where no one would see. I thought caring about clothes and hair and make up was superficial and that poetry, peace, and justice were important. I remember being about 11 and staying up all night with my best friend talking about world problems and brainstorming ways we could help solve them – haha! In high school it got harder and harder to nurture that little rebel in me and so I just gave in and gave her up. It was surprisingly easy but it’s been a struggle ever since.

You see, I don’t want an alcoholic for a mother. I don’t want my brother & cousins to suffer from addictions.  I don’t want to be frightened from a loud & sudden sound like the crack of my mother’s cheekbone connecting with my stepfather’s fist. I don’t want to have to count how many glasses of wine I’ve had in fear of losing control and blacking out. In this way, I want so badly to be different so I end up just being the same as everyone else.

I get lost in the trends, in the materialistic wants, in the workout obsession & clean eating phenomenon, in the status updates & Insta likes… I let myself get completely wrapped up in it all but it’s just a front, a fake, an armour I put on to cover up the fragile me, the broken me. I read somewhere once, that when you’re feeling lost, or questioning your purpose in life, to think about someone you want to be a role model for, someone you want to inspire and to think about what you want that person to learn from you.  For me, aside from my girls, it has always been my niece.

She just turned 9 yesterday and has been through a lot in her short life.  She has this way about her though, this kindness, this gentle courage to always to do the right thing. She reminds me a lot of myself as a child and in a lot of ways she inspires me.  I started thinking about what it is I would want her to learn from me and it woke me out of my pretending-to-be-someone-else state. Do I want her to care about how many squats she does or the calories she consumed? No. Do I want her to value her self-worth on the amount of likes she gets? Hell no. Do I want her to follow the crowd and not stay true to herself? Double hell no.

I want her to love herself and her life no matter how crazy it becomes.  I want her to forgive those who have hurt her and to always remember to forgive herself too.  I want her to be brave, speak her mind, and always tell the truth no matter how hard it may be. I want her to wear her scars proudly and without shame no matter how painful.  I want her to keep that kindness, that innocence, and that gentle courage to always do the right thing.  I want her to always stay true to herself, to be who she wants to be, and do what she wants to do.  I want her to be happy being different from the rest. I want her to find that little rebel within and never let her go ❤