Venturing out

I've never been a "crowd" person

I wear my introvert badge with pride and still chuckle a bit too much when a certain Doctor Who episode references Hermits United.

I know at least part of that comes from my EDS. Crowds are not a great place to be when your joints are wibbly, your body hurts, and your anxiety keeps telling you that people are sucking out the oxygen. That said, I love one-on-one or meeting with a small group of people. Give me a shared topic of interest and I will talk your ear off. Everybody, even introverts, need a chance to be out in community, it's a fundamental part of who we are as human beings.

Now, however, going out has a new complication: a smiley little 4 month old and our firecracker who's 2 and just happens to have ASD.

Our son's ASD has left him fairly speech delayed as well as unaware of most boundaries add in the fact that he's tall for his age and we have a perfect recipe for frustration as most people simply see a disobedient free spirited boy who "should know better" or a lazy parent. UGH!

It honestly feel like a rock and a hard place quandary - don't explain and people make assumptions (let's face it people act on assumptions and interact differently as a result) or explain and chance people not making the effort to see the person behind the label.

Having to deal with this myself I usually go with the latter risk but it still feels like a lose-lose scenario. Which is why I'm grateful on those occasions when the unexpected occurs.

We recently started attending a new church who I had been associated with through their day camp many moons ago (I don't actually remember the year but anything pre-kids feels like it was many moons ago :P ).  We arrived early, let our little guy walk through the entire building while only the first volunteers were running through setup, and made sure to find his teacher before class started. I started into my usually explanation with speech delays, possible ASD, etc . . . only for the teacher to smile and tell me she understood perfectly her son had been there too.

There's power in a smile. There's power in a kind word, a nod of acceptance, or when acceptable a recognition of similar journeys. They're all connectors, reminders that we're not alone on this weird journey called life, an invitation back into community when you feel isolated and alienated.

I'm grateful that, although new to this journey, I've already found a few instances where community has reached out and invited me in when life and assumptions seemed to push me out.

Community takes risk but it's a risk worth taking for both parties, something I definitely need to remember.