by Kayla Myers, Peer Support Coordinator

January 28, 2025

April is Autism Awareness Month, a time that holds deep meaning for my family and countless others around the world. My son is almost 9 years old, and he is non-speaking. While he may not use words in the way most people do, he communicates in a hundred other beautiful, meaningful ways. I am always seeking the words for my personal hero, my son.

When I first heard the words “your child is on the autism spectrum,” I felt everything at once: fear, love, confusion, and an overwhelming desire to understand what the future might hold. I imagined the challenges he might face, the misunderstandings, the uphill battles. But what I couldn’t yet see was how much he would teach me. He has taught me valuable lessons about patience, resilience, perspective, and the power of connection that doesn’t require words.

Our days are filled with routines and rhythms that make sense to him. He used to spend hours lining up his toys in a way only he could understand, watching water swirling endlessly down the drain, and listening to the same song over and over again. These are just the things that bring him comfort and joy. They are just a few examples of how he experiences the world. And when I slow down and truly see things through his eyes, I realize how much intention, beauty, and clarity live in the moments that I used to overlook.

He may be non-speaking, but he is never silent. His laughter lights up the room when something speaks his language. His eyes sparkle when he wants to share a moment with me. His hands flap joyfully when he’s proud of himself or when he is excited. And when he’s overwhelmed, I feel his pain in my bones. Even when he doesn’t say, “Mom, I need help,” I know. And I respond with everything I have.

One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned as a mother is this: communication is so much more than words. It’s gestures, eye contact, presence, energy, and love. In our home, we celebrate every form of expression. Whether it’s pointing, using a communication device, pulling me toward what he needs, or simply placing his hand in mine when he’s seeking comfort. These are his words. And they are valid. They are powerful. And this is when I feel so connected to the idea of connection.

I’ve always been a people person. I may not excel at the things most people do, but I get people. I easily read between the lines, I am very aware of the subtle shifts in body language, the emotion behind a glance, the weight carried in a quiet moment. I’ve come to understand that everyone has a story, and that what we see on the surface is just one layer of many. I know that life can be painful. And I find grace in my ability to hold space for others, not to fix or solve, but simply to sit with them in their pain, to truly see them, and to understand even just a fragment of what they’re carrying.

But it’s my son, my beautiful, non-speaking son — who has helped me take that ability to a deeper level. He has taught me how to truly listen without words, how to tune in to the language of presence, energy, and emotion. In walking alongside him, I’ve learned to support what’s unspoken with more compassion and clarity than I ever thought possible.

Autism Awareness Month is about more than awareness, it’s about acceptance, understanding, and celebration. It’s about recognizing that autistic individuals, whether they speak or not, bring extraordinary strengths, perspectives, and beauty into this world. My son has shown me that every child deserves to be seen, heard, and honored exactly as they are.

So if you’re reading this, I invite you to lean in. Listen. Learn. Unlearn. Listen to parents like me, yes — but more importantly, listen to autistic individuals themselves. Their voices matter most. They are the true experts on their own experience. And often, the very people the world tries to speak for.

Let’s build a world where all kinds of communication are valued, where neurodiversity is not just accepted but embraced, and where being non-speaking never means being unheard.

To my beautiful boy: you are brave, man, you are brave. You are brilliant and I know more brilliant than I could even understand. And you are deeply loved, exactly as you are. I will always be your voice until the world learns how to truly listen. 

Edited and enhanced by ChatGPT

By Kayla Myers, Family Peer Supporter

March 11, 2024

I had a revelation recently and am still unsure how to correct this coping mechanism I acquired on my journey through life. I guess at this point acknowledging and identifying this within myself is currently the stage I am in. So, I thought this would be a good way to reflect through writing and see if any more revelations transpire my growth. “Carpe Diem” is a Latin term meaning “Seize the day”. This can inspire the idea of living in the moment or for today, so we aren’t wasting what little time we have on this earth worrying about what has already happened or what is to come.

I was recently re-exposed to the idea of perfectionism. Identifying as someone who struggled with perfectionism didn’t ring true for me when I heard this idea brought up long ago. To me perfectionism meant you kept your spaces tidy, and your hair and makeup were always done, you were an overachiever, and things had to be perfect in your mind until you could be proud of yourself or the work you accomplished. I do not need things to be perfect to live a life that feels good to me. But when we dove into the layers of perfectionism, something hit me like a ton of bricks. I realized that I had this invisible report card inside of me where I was being graded and I was the one grading myself. I have zero idea of what I am being graded on or my expectations for myself, but it's there. How can I live up to this potential of a bogus scoring system that I allowed to control my self-worth and not offer myself grace when I don’t succeed? I feel like I owe myself an apology for setting such unfair terms to measure my success and when I fail, my worth always crumbles in my hands.

I have always been a kind soul. The one that roots for the underdog and wants to believe that we are all good underneath the layers of our lives and journeys that either left us better or battered. We are all trying to do the best job we know how to do with the tools we have in our toolkits. I offer grace and understanding to everyone around me and keep in mind that I have zero idea about the battles they are fighting every day. All these things come so naturally to me, but I have a hard time offering these same ideas to myself. I am hard on myself. I am my own worst enemy sometimes. Trying to live up to an unrealistic inhuman standard I set for myself long ago. Hey, I should start now, I am proud of myself for being able to identify the pattern I am in and give it life by acknowledging it's there and breathing into it to see what I need so I can sink deeper into my authentic self. I am also proud of myself because I recognize it's time to start offering myself the same grace and compassion that I offer others and to acknowledge I am a human and doing my best every day.

Carpe Diem- I pledge to myself to keep this mantra in the forefront of my mind. When I feel uneasy about what is happening around me, in my body, or mind, I am going to remind myself that the only thing I am in control of is my response to what is uncomfortable. I will let my invisible report card take a rest so I am not keeping track of all my faults, and I will offer myself the grace to learn and do differently next time. I am a perfectly capable but flawed human being. My expectation of me is to live a life that feels good, not one that looks perfect to everyone else.

by Erin Faulkner, Family Peer Supporter

December 5, 2023

International Disability Awareness Day was December 3^rd.  I have labeled myself as a person with a disability for many years.  It is not a label that I use to get pity or to collect financial assistance.  It is just how I am able to explain with one word that, though I am a successful, capable adult, I do have restrictions and limitations in some activities in my life.

A disability is any condition of the body or mind (impairment) that makes it more difficult for the person with the condition to do certain activities (activity limitation) and interact with the world around them (participation restrictions).  A disabled person may not be handicapped if they can find a way around their disability.  Often these are accommodations, but they may just be tools or strategies.  Examples in these are hearing aids, braille, captioning, notebooks, phone apps, step stools, etc.

I have Stickler Syndrome, a connective tissue disorder, that affects my vision, hearing, joints and size.  Due to my hearing loss, I have needed accommodations to allow me to access information, specifically communication.  I wear hearing aids, use closed captioning on all tv shows and movies, and sit in the first few rows at any conference or meetings. I avoid situations and experiences that I am not able to experience the same as someone without a hearing loss.  I don’t go to plays.  I only go to movies that have open-captioning or use a close-captioned device.  I avoid visiting with a large group of people.

I am very myopic, or near-sighted, in my left eye in which I wear a contact lens.  My right eye has had a cataract repair and now has distance vision.  Even with these corrections, I still only have 20/40 vision, or 20/30 on a good day.  For the most part, my vision doesn’t limit my activities, though, the chance of it progressing is high due to glaucoma, cataracts and risk of tears and detachments.

Being only 4’10” isn’t extremely uncommon, but it does add to some of the limitations, such as driving some vehicles.  The most annoying thing is trying to get things off of shelves in the store.  As a side-bar, height restrictions have proven to be a little discriminatory at one store chain, in my opinion.  Shoes are hung with small sizes at the top and large sizes at the bottom, so that the short people that are likely to wear the small shoes can’t reach them.  I also require a foot stool under my desk at work, so that I can sit comfortably without aggravating my hips and knees.

Finally, my limited flexibility and joint pain have the biggest impact on my life.  For example, my hip joints did not develop normally, so my walking gait actually goes against the direction my legs would want to move in the joint.  This means that walking for long periods of time causes pain. It has been frustrating for most of my life to hear that exercise (stretching and strengthening) would help with my pain, but how can I exercise when it hurts?  It was a vicious cycle that I experienced for years until I was finally given some medication that helped with the pain and allowed me to finally exercise and improve my joints, which in turn lessened my pain and allowed me to do more things.

As you can see, I do have some limitations, but only in a few areas of my daily life.  I am able to work, drive, and take care of my family.  I am successful and happy.  My limitations are not excuses.  They are simply reasons for me to look for other ways to do things that I want to do or find other things to do instead.

My 21-year-old daughter also has Stickler Syndrome.  She is a very successful college student who already has a post-graduation job lined up as a chemical engineer.  She has had a 504 plan since elementary school.  Sam has only used supports as she has needed them.  She has found that communicating with professors and employers has helped her bypass any limitations more than the accommodations she might ask for.  Advocating for and accessing what you need to be successful is far different than saying “I can’t because…”  Look for opportunities to succeed not for reasons not to.  Your disability does not inherently make you disabled.  Your attitude about it does.  I have shared some quotes that may help you see yourself or someone you know differently than you had before.