24/07/2025
❤️
My daughter started making enemies when she was two years old. Not because she was mean or malicious because she was autistic, and the world has never known what to do with children who don’t fit the mold. Daycare teachers. Other parents. Strangers in the grocery store. From the time she could barely speak in full sentences, people were already pushing her out.
She looked “normal,” whatever that means. She spoke well. She smiled and played. But her behaviors, her responses to overwhelm, her need to throw or scream to regulate her nervous system made adults uneasy. Made other kids’ parents whisper. Made gatekeepers say, “This just isn’t the right fit.” I have been in a constant battle with those gatekeepers ever since.
She’s a tween now, and the meltdowns have mostly faded. But she still doesn’t play the game. She doesn’t do social hierarchy. If you’re out of line—whether you’re a teacher, a peer, or a principal, she will tell you. Bluntly. And I admire that. Even when it causes problems, even when it costs her things other kids take for granted. Because she has a sense of justice that cuts through adult bu****it like a knife. She’s one of the most principled people I know.
There’s this one friend of hers, another firebrand. Together they’ve become “those girls,” the ones who are always “in trouble.” But if you ever stop to actually talk with them (really talk) you’ll see how much sense they make. How clearly they can explain their actions. How hard they are trying to be seen and understood. And I can’t squash that. I won’t.
I’ve been fighting for nine years…fighting to keep her included, to keep her in. She was kicked out of her final daycare at four. She’s never had a summer camp. Not one. She’s been kicked out of gymnastics, dance, sports, after-school programs. At some, she was mocked by other kids. At others, shamed by the adults who were supposed to support her. It still continues despite her growth and now for even the mildest of things that all kids do.
A few years ago, my friend Kirby and I launched a podcast to talk about all of it. Yes Day Inclusion Podcast To push for awareness, inclusion, and real strategies—not just lip service—to help kids like mine access the most basic of childhood rites. We weren’t just fighting for a seat at the table. We were fighting for childhood itself: for memories, for laughter, for belonging.
I always said I’d write a book. But I never started. Because the story wasn’t over. It still isn’t. But recently, something shifted. I found the angle. Or maybe the angle found me.
For years, my energy went into inclusion. Advocacy. Reform. I tried so hard to work within the systems to make it better. But after the events of this past year, I’ve had to reckon with a hard truth: sometimes the system is the problem. Sometimes the system doesn’t want to be fixed. And when it actively harms your child, you don’t keep sending her into the lion’s den. You take her hand, you build a new path, and you fight like hell to protect her.
That’s where I am now. Less interested in changing everyone else. More focused on creating spaces where she doesn’t have to mask. Where she’s not punished for being her full self. Where she is not just tolerated, but treasured.
I’ve written most of it already, 90% of the book. I’ve been out of that world for a while since getting my MFA in creative writing long ago. I just need an agent. A publisher. Maybe a viral moment and half a million followers would help too. 🤣
But more than that, I need the world to stop hurting kids like mine. I know I am not alone. teg
