Yesterdayās sensory support was being at the playground with my son. Using our hands, being tactile...We found an interesting bucket seat that I think you sit in it and someone spins you around in. I knew he wouldnāt be keen on that, but I knew he would be keen on filling it with bark. So I show d him by picking up handfuls and dropping the bark in slowly as if it were a cascading waterfall. He understood and started to copy me, fully enjoying himself āØāØāØWhen I was a child, my mum was not joyful. She was quite the opposite actually. She didnāt participate in life with us, she was afraid to be seen in the world as herself, afraid to be embarrassed. So she sat on the sidelines, she didnāt cheer (and what team was I in anyway, I wasnāt!), she just...didnāt.
My journey of recovering from CPTSD has bought me to a place of healing so that I could have a child of my own. Itās a struggle to be with him sometimes, and when I say, with, I mean, be present and not embarrassed by my own self...just the same way she was. We allow our son to live authentically autistic, as thatās who he was born to be. Showing him that his mum is not afraid to be in a public park, filling a seat with bark and not worrying if we are ādoing the wrong thingā. Showing him that fun is just fun, and playgrounds donāt need to have rules (as some parents think they do). Iām showing up for him, and I will continue to do so his whole life, heās more important than how I feel.
Image description: a small child stands over a red bowl at a park and the bowl has some bark in it.
















