I figure the first post I should write here ought to be about one of the biggest gripes that I’ve had since tuning into the autistic side of the Internet. I was diagnosed at the tender age of almost-or-around 18 (due to other parts of my mental illnesses, I honestly can’t remember the exact month I was diagnosed, but it was around late 2013), and once I truly accepted the part of myself I had always suspected existed, I delved into the internet side of it.

It wasn't hard, exactly, finding the resources I needed — I already had established bases in Tumblr and Twitter — but one of the first things I found there was one of the first things that annoyed me.

Autism Moms.

I don’t mean mothers with autism (plenty of them exist and they are awesome), I mean mothers (and fathers, although the #autismdad tag on Twitter is far more empty than the #autismmom one) who have championed the cause for their autistic child, or children. Which is great! Having a voice for us is amazing, and I appreciate that! What I don’t appreciate, however, is how they make their child’s autism about them and about how hard it is for them to live their life. I also don’t appreciate how, instead of listening to the Actually Autistic voices of our community, they turn to allistic/neurotypical medical professionals and other allistic/neurotypical parents for support and information, disregarding us completely.

This would be fine if… most of those people weren’t disgustingly misinformed about us, our needs and our wants. It’s an issue, out there, on the Internet and the ‘real’ world (because try as you might to think it isn’t, the Internet is still part of the real world, it doesn’t exist in a vacuum, I’m afraid). The issue being the large amount of misinformation that gets circulated about us. For once I’m not talking about Autism $peaks (and if you would like more comprehensive reasons as to why that ‘charity’ is a complete abomination, I would suggest hitting up the Caffeinated Autistic’s wordpress post about it, it might be old, but it’s still good). For once, I’m just talking about plain ol’ people.

See, here’s the thing… autistic people like myself and others are still people. We’re all unique and we all have wants, needs and desires like everyone else, even if we can’t exactly express them in a way that makes ‘sense’ to other people. And a great many of us can speak for ourselves (verbally and non-verbally, but that’s a whole other kettle of fish). Even autistic children can speak for themselves, if you’d just take half a second to ask them. Which, unfortunately, from what I’ve seen in the majority of the #autism<parent> tags on Twitter and Tumblr and other blog sources… people don’t. They just… don’t.

They make it about themselves and about how hard it is being the parent of a child with autism, and then they pretty up their child in ways that are often cringeworthy at best and frightening at worst. No, your child is not the ‘next step’ in the evolutionary chain — we’ve always been here, from the very beginning. We’re not new. You don’t need to justify to those assholes out there why your child is special. They just are — autistic or not. We’re unique, yes, but we’re not superhuman. We’re not abnormal, and saying things like that actually further perpetuates the myth that we are.

And while I sympathise that looking after a child with autism is an effort (an effort I hope they’re glad to be making, by the way), they need to stop making it all about themselves. They forget that living with autism is just as hard, if not harder, than looking after someone with it. Because at the end of the day, they get to go to sleep (yes, I am generalising here), and continue being an unstigmatised part of society. We don’t. We live, breathe and consume our own autism, almost as much as it can sometimes consume us. It’s not all cute photos and excited tweets about how their child finally said ‘I love you’, it’s terrible stories about how our meltdowns are embarrassing and ‘a burden’, it’s how they’ve learned to ‘accept’ their child won’t go to college or get married (which is a completely ridiculous notion in itself — while not all of us are capable of it or want it, there are those of us who can and will and it’s silly to think otherwise), it’s rampant ableism and discrimination against us, it’s a lack of resources, it’s a lack of sympathy and empathy for us, and it’s statements that we need to be cured or that we should be locked up or put in homes ‘for our own good’.

And all of those things are found when Autism Parents don’t come to Actually Autistic people for advice (those of us who are willing to give it) and/or listen to our voices. When we tell them that that charity or organisation they’re following is hinky, they don’t listen. There are ‘buts’ and ‘ifs’ and ‘ands’ and frankly they make it worse. They champion the cause for their child but forget that there are those of us out there who are more than willing to help, who have life experience about autism because we are autistic. We have the resources, the expertise and the knowledge already. They just have to ask, and they don’t. To say the least, it’s utterly frustrating.

Part of me knows why they do this — people often forget that autistic adults actually exist. We’re not thrown into the spotlight like autistic children are (and pardon me, you don’t get a cookie for being a good parent to your autistic child), and if we are, we’re displayed in the most disgusting stereotypes. This has to stop. How does it stop? By listening to the Actually Autistic voices of the community and stop spearheading a cause that they know absolutely nothing about except what they’ve seen from other Autistic Parents and ‘doctors’ that offer books and tips and tricks on how to ‘handle their child’.

And I know I shouldn’t have to say this, but I will anyway because I’ll undoubtedly be yelled at if I don’t… no, of course I don’t mean all parents of autistic children. If you look through the #autismmom tag on Twitter, you’ll know exactly the ones I’m talking about… and hopefully, one day, you’ll understand.