As a parent of a child on the autism spectrum, I’ve walked a path that is often unspoken, shadowed by emotions that many of us are afraid to confront—let alone share. We see anger, frustration, and exhaustion spilling out in parenting groups and communities. But behind the raw emotion, there’s something deeper. Something we often don’t recognize right away: grief.
I didn’t know it at the time, but it was my grief that was fueling my anger. The diagnosis, though significant, wasn’t the root cause of my feelings. The true struggle was facing the reality that the future I had envisioned for my son wasn’t going to be as straightforward as I had imagined. I had dreams for him—big dreams. I pictured him as a star athlete, following in footsteps I hadn’t even fully laid out, but ones that felt expected, almost inevitable. Then reality set in.
My son, now five, is just becoming preverbal. He still can’t catch a ball, and while I have long since come to understand and accept his pace, it took me a while to get here. Before acceptance, there was grief—a powerful, confusing grief that I wasn’t prepared for. And I think that’s where many of us autism parents get stuck. We carry around this unspoken pain, the unacknowledged loss of the neurotypical child we thought we’d have. It feels taboo to admit it, and for a long time, I felt ashamed for feeling that way. But the truth is, grief is an integral part of parenting a child with special needs, and ignoring it doesn’t make it go away. In fact, it does the opposite.
Confronting the Ugly Truth
One of the hardest things to admit was that my anger and frustration weren’t just about the daily challenges of raising a child with autism. Sure, those challenges are real, and they can be exhausting. But deeper than that, I realized I was angry because I was grieving. I was grieving the loss of the child I thought I’d have, the future I had silently planned for him, and the ease with which I thought parenting would unfold.
No one tells you that part of raising a special needs child is grieving the child you thought you’d have. It’s an ugly truth that we often avoid because we’re afraid of being judged, of appearing ungrateful, or worse, like we don’t love our children. But this grief doesn’t mean we don’t love our kids. In fact, it’s the opposite. We love them so much that the idea of them struggling or facing challenges breaks our hearts.
And it was that heartbreak, that unresolved grief, that kept creating a wall between me and my son. It wasn’t until I confronted it, acknowledged it, and started to heal, that I was able to build a deeper bond with him.
The Power of Acknowledging Grief
"You can’t heal what you don’t reveal."
That quote stuck with me because it’s true. Once I acknowledged my grief, I started to understand why I felt so frustrated and stuck. I was carrying around expectations that weren’t fair to my son or to myself. So I did what I needed to do: I allowed myself to grieve.
I dived into the 7 stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, and even moments of reconstruction. I realized that I had been circling around those stages for a long time without realizing it. There were days where I’d deny his diagnosis, thinking maybe he’d “grow out of it.” Other days, I’d be so angry, not at him, but at the situation, the uncertainty of the future. I bargained, hoping therapies and interventions would “fix” everything, and when they didn’t work as quickly as I wanted, I’d spiral into sadness.
But the moment I started to really confront those feelings, I found clarity. Grieving wasn’t about giving up hope. It was about making peace with the present and letting go of expectations that were holding me back from fully embracing my son, exactly as he is. Once I reached that understanding, something magical happened: the bond between us grew stronger. My son began to make more progress. I don’t think that was a coincidence.
Healing Myself, Healing Others
This healing journey has been transformative for me, and it’s what inspired me to want to help other parents on this path. I know there are countless moms and dads out there who are feeling the same things I did—anger, frustration, grief—and they’re carrying it alone. They may not even realize that their grief is standing in the way of the connection they truly want with their child.
I’ve come to understand that it’s okay to feel these emotions. It’s okay to grieve, to feel the loss of the future you once imagined. But what’s not okay is to let those feelings fester, because they’ll only hold you back from truly loving and supporting your child in the way they need.
That’s why I started my journey into healing and why I want to help other parents heal too. Through open conversations, shared experiences, and resources designed to guide parents through this emotional landscape, I hope to offer a lifeline for those who feel like they’re drowning in their grief. It’s not about “fixing” your child or changing who they are. It’s about healing yourself so that you can show up as the parent your child needs—a parent who loves and accepts them for exactly who they are.
Let’s Heal Together
If you’re reading this and you’re struggling with your own anger or grief, know that you’re not alone. The emotions you’re feeling are valid, and there is a way forward. The journey to healing isn’t easy, but it’s worth it—for you and for your child. I’ve been there, and I’m still here, learning, growing, and healing. And I want to help others do the same.
Let’s stop pretending everything is okay when it’s not. Let’s acknowledge the grief, the anger, the frustration. Only then can we truly begin to heal and build the deeper, loving connection our children deserve.
