by Kayla Myers, Peer Support coordinator

June 24, 2025

I’m a mom of boys, loud, messy, hilarious, curious, deep-feeling boys.

And if I’m honest, one of my greatest hopes, besides them eventually learning to do their laundry and clean up after themselves, is that they grow into men who feel safe being whole. Not just strong or stoic or successful. But soft when they need to be. Honest. Vulnerable. Supported.

Because here’s the truth, one I’ve heard from every mom of boys and quietly carried myself: the world still struggles to let our sons be fully human.

We tell our kids, “It’s okay to cry,” but somewhere between kindergarten and manhood, that message gets lost. Replaced by phrases like “man up,” “don’t be soft,” and “real men don’t talk about their feelings.” And those words don’t just bounce off; they sink in. They settle deep.

As moms, we see their hearts before the world tells them to hide them. We see the quiet anxiety before the tough-guy mask forms. We know the pressure they carry in silence, the self-doubt buried behind humor, the frustration when they don’t have the words to explain what’s going on inside.

June is Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month. And if it reminds me of anything, it’s this:

We don’t just need to raise good men.
We need to raise whole men.

Men who know it's okay to ask for help.
Men who’ve had practice expressing what they feel.
Men who’ve seen someone care about what’s happening beneath the surface.

Here’s what I’m doing, or I should say, what I’m trying, daily:

• I ask them how they’re feeling, and I try not to rush past the silence.
• I talk about therapy like it’s normal, because it is.
• I praise emotional honesty just as much as achievements.
• I work on asking for help myself, because they’re always watching.

In my eyes, no boy should grow up believing his feelings make him weak.

So, whether you're a parent, an aunt, a coach, a teacher, or a friend, be part of the voice that says:

You don’t have to pretend you're okay when you’re not.
You’re not less of a man for needing support.
You’re more of one for knowing when to reach out.

To my sons, and all the boys growing into men:
Your mind matters.
Your emotions matter.
You matter.

Let’s raise them to believe it.

(Edited and Enhanced with ChatGPT)

As a parent of a nonverbal child with autism, our journey has been a tapestry woven with both challenges and triumphs. One of the most significant threads in this tapestry has been understanding sensory processing disorder (SPD) and its profound impact on my son. SPD is often found in children on the autism spectrum and manifests in various sensitivities and reactions to sensory stimuli. By sharing our experiences, I hope not only to advocate for my son but also to raise awareness and support others who are facing similar challenges.

Sensory processing disorder refers to the brain’s difficulty in interpreting and responding to sensory information. This can include sensitivities to light, sound, touch, taste, and smell. For children like my son, everyday environments can become overwhelming and stressful, leading to withdrawal or, when multiple irritations stack up, meltdowns.

Simple activities, such as grocery shopping or attending social gatherings, can be daunting for my son. Bright lights and loud noises in stores often lead to sensory overload. I vividly remember a trip to a crowded supermarket; the bright fluorescents seemed to pulse, and the announcements echoed. My son quickly became agitated, covering his ears, his stimming became louder, and he was tensing up. In that moment, I realized that what might seem like a routine errand to others was an overwhelming experience for him.

At home, certain textures can trigger strong reactions. For instance, he struggles with shirts that feel staticky against his skin, finding certain fabrics unbearable. This has taught me the importance of being mindful of his clothing choices and providing comfortable alternatives. Food can also be particularly challenging; he tends to avoid trying new things and prefers to stick to familiar favorites.

Through trial and error, we’ve developed strategies to help him navigate these sensory challenges. Here are some approaches that have worked for us:

1. Creating a Sensory Retreat: We’ve designated his room as a “sensory retreat.” It’s equipped with soft pillows, weighted blankets, dim lights, a soft rug, a rocking chair, and calming toys. When he feels overwhelmed, he knows he can retreat to this safe space to decompress.
2. Establishing Routine: A consistent daily routine has helped my son feel more secure. Knowing what to expect reduces anxiety and prepares him for sensory-rich environments.
3. Visual Supports: Visual schedules, social stories, and his communication device have been invaluable in preparing him for new experiences. By explaining what he might encounter, we can discuss potential challenges and strategies in advance.
4. Stimming: I’ve witnessed how stimming helps my son regulate his emotions and navigate challenging situations. For example, during a busy family gathering, the noise and commotion can quickly become overwhelming. In those moments, I see him begin to pace or hum softly to himself, “eee”. This rhythmic movement offers him a sense of grounding, helping him find calm amidst the chaos. Stimming, or self-stimulatory behavior, encompasses a wide range of actions, such as hand-flapping, rocking, spinning, or making sounds. For many children with autism, these behaviors serve as a way to self-soothe, manage sensory overload, or simply express joy. It’s a natural response to their unique ways of interacting with the world around them.

As we navigate the complexities of SPD together, I’ve learned to embrace my son’s unique perspective. His heightened awareness of sensory details often leads to moments of profound wonder. He notices the rustle of leaves, the patterns of sunlight through trees, he watches every ripple and wave in the water, and the intricate details of everyday life that many of us overlook. This sensitivity, while challenging, enriches our shared experiences and deepens our connection.

Connecting with other parents of children with autism has been incredibly beneficial. Sharing stories and strategies creates a sense of community and reassurance. Support groups, both in-person and online, serve as lifelines for parents seeking understanding and advice. If you’re on a similar journey, know that you’re not alone. Together, we can navigate the complexities of sensory processing and celebrate the unique perspectives our children bring to the world. Let’s continue to learn, share, and support one another in this remarkable journey of parenthood.

Living with a son who has autism and sensory processing disorder has reshaped my understanding of the world. While the challenges of navigating what works and what doesn’t can be overwhelming, they are accompanied by moments of profound beauty and connection. By focusing on understanding his sensory needs and advocating for him, I aim to create a nurturing environment where he can thrive.

by Kayla Myers, Family Peer Supporter

September 26, 2023

I am going to try something new with this month’s theme: recovery. Honesty is admirable, the more I dive into the depths of my mental health recovery journey, I know honesty will be the key that I didn’t have in my pocket the first time around. I had some old triggers resurface for me and new obstacles present themselves the last couple weeks. Here are my takeaways……

I made a commitment to pour into myself after pouring from an empty cup for far to long and I held myself to my commitment. On certain days, I feel confident that I have a grasp on who I am and where I am going. Other days, I feel like I am never going to be able to get past the mental blocks and barriers. This is where the word recovery comes in and what it means to me now.

Recovery isn’t like going to school and receiving a degree or finishing a training and receiving a certificate of completion. This is now a lifestyle that must be actively worked at daily. It is a commitment we make with ourselves to be committed to trying and trying again. While it is easy to say, it is another thing to set forth and do. I had a hiccup within my thought processes. I got so spun up in the things I couldn’t control and took things very personal. Old triggers came up and I let them control me for a day or two. Then I picked up my phone and reached out to a few people that I knew I could be open with, and they challenged me in the areas I needed. I sat with all the information I had in front of me, sat with the feelings and emotions they were bringing up in me, and decided what I needed to bring with me, and what I needed to leave behind. Trust is a hard thing to have in life after you have been shown many times that trusting others and processes, can become overwhelming detrimental. I realized that I needed to be kinder to myself and offer the same grace I give out so freely. I need to trust that I know what is best for me and I will always do the best I can with the tools I have. But that there will be times where I can be committed to my mental health recovery and still fail miserably. And when I fail, because I will again, recovery will be the key that I will now have, to trust in the commitment I made to me and allow myself to be a human being trying to navigate this world like everyone else.

Recovery won’t be a certificate I get to mount on my wall. People won’t have a celebration for this new lifestyle change. It will be tested daily, and I will have days where I will second guess myself and those around me. My takeaway is this, I would rather work at being better than I was yesterday everyday for the rest of my life. The commitment I made to myself and trying at it every day, it better than any certificate of completion someone could give that doesn’t walk in my shoes. I know how far I have come. I know what I will never go back to. And for me, that is enough.