Autism Answer: And Then There Were Slippers

 

My slippers on the stairs at our front door.

Slowly I slip my naked foot into the soft comfort of these slippers. My skin is embraced and caressed, my sole cushioned. Sometimes I will start with my right foot, sometimes my left, but always I offer the pleasure of these slippers equally. 

 

I don't always choose the slow embrace of this soft home for my feet. Sometime I jump into them with speed and vigor. We hop our way into those cushion-y cuddles of a slipper. We bounce noisily throughout the house - up and down the stairs, dancing in my dance room (no more cold floor on my feet!), stepping out onto the front step to sip coffee outside.

 

But these are indoor slippers, purchased for me by my love and intended to last. So I do not step down the stairs in these sweet soled snuggly slippers, and instead stand only on the top step while avoiding the snow and ice. Avoiding the small rocks and dirt that live outside and migrate toward our front door. 

 

Avoiding. 

 

This is what I also notice about these slippers. That I am avoiding a few things for the sake of them. 

 

Most notably is outside. I am nurtured and brought home to myself by spending time outside. In all seasons, winter being one of my favourites. I love the acoustics of a snow covered world, and the feel of cold air on my skin. I feel myself become more ME when I close my eyes to feel the touch of nature. 

 

But these are indoor slippers, and I adore them, and I want them to last. 

 

So I notice myself making the choice to stay on the top step, to take the trash out later so I don't have to take them off, to wear them in the car when picking my son up from work and then avoid the fun of going into the grocery store with him to check out the reduced racks. 

 

Also, the pleasure of these slippers, my desire to continually slip my feet into their welcoming embrace, has kept me from noticing our floors need sweeping. Before these slippers, I was one for bare feet. Indoor and outdoor soles, that's what I feel I was born with. Even in winter when I loved to wear cozy socks I could feel the grit on the ground through the material. Before the slippers were introduced to my feet, I swept our kitchen floor at least once a day and other floors often, as needed. Why? Because I felt the bits of food and life that fall to the floor on my bare feet, or I felt them cling to my cozy socks, and I enjoyed the task of sweeping it up. It's a task you can easily do while thinking or singing to yourself. It's simple and helpful at the same time. 

 

But these slippers keep me from feeling the world at my feet. Instead, the joy of them keeps me feeling the fact of my feet. 

 

There is nothing bad or wrong about these slippers or my adoration of them. In fact, it is wonderful! What is especially wonderful is me noticing the changes in my behavior, the shifts in my choices, and reminding myself that these things are important. 

 

That the noticing should continue. 

 

Which of these changes in behavior, or shifts in myself, might I want to shift again? Back in my winter days of cozy socks, I could easily slip my socked feet into winter boots and walk in the snow, take my morning coffee across the street to the river, walk around the block or stomp in the snow under the trees in the park beside our house. But these slippers do not slip into winter boots, and hence I have to make a more purposeful decision to take them off in order to slide my feet into the winter boots. I have begun to do that a little more, now that I noticed how much I miss being outside. I have also taught myself to be comfortable in my winter boots without socks. This has made spontaneous outdoor moments easier and has given me a wider sensory comfort zone.

 

And sweeping the floor! How funny that I rarely do it anymore. I always enjoyed sweeping, but without feeling the grit on my feet it feels unnecessary. I admit, I don't see a need to change this. I still sweep once or twice a week, but I think it is totally fine that our floors are less clean than they used to be. And if someone living in our home that does not wear slippers finds themselves not liking the grit on the ground, they can have the pleasure of sweeping and singing to themselves. I was hogging all that fun and I'm not anymore. 

 

I think it is of GREAT importance to notice how our entire lives can be influenced by little things, like slippers. If I had not noticed, if I had instead simply stopped going outside or sweeping or walking into the store with my son, I possibly would have grown slowly less happy, perhaps more reclusive, perhaps less helpful. Oh, not much. But it only takes small shifts over time to invade a life. 

 

As parents and caregivers, it is also of great importance to notice. Did the introduction of a new food shift behaviors or bowel movements? Are those shifts mainly helpful? What shifts did those shifts cause? Are we moving away from a valuable pleasure by only following the movements of the new shift? How about a tool that helps your loved one communicate. That's great! But also, are you losing the connection you had when communication was based more on a special language between you and that loved one? Was that form of communication valuable to both of you? Or more for you alone? Notice. Find ways to move forward with new gifts. It's okay to lose some things, that is part of the evolution of living, but we want to notice and take care of the things that matter most. 

 

I will not be silly and stop wearing these wonderful slippers. I gained a pleasure when my love gave me this gift. But I am now more often taking off the slippers to step outside, putting on my boots to pick up my son, and being aware of the sweeping that may need to be done. 

 

I noticed the shifts and have made a few shifts in response. 

 

We are mostly responsible for ourselves and our lives. For who we are and who we choose to be. For how we live and for providing our own joy and purpose. 

 

I believe I have this one life and I enjoy the work of doing it well. 

 

I was living it without slippers.

 

Now I'm not. 

 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!!!

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: Hold Him This Way

 

Declyn and me

"Hold him this way," my mom suggested, holding my youngest son up in her arms, away from her body, while encouraging eye contact with her loving smiling eyes. 

 

He was little, in my memory not quite a year old, but we were noticing sensory stuff and lack of eye contact. We weren't worrying about it but we were noticing. And we were following his cues while hoping to help him feel our love. 

 

As Declyn grew, this sort of noticing and following and leading continued. 

 

He had a debilitating case of hyper empathy, any amount of uncomfortable energy could hurt him to the point of a meltdown. Meltdowns he chose to have alone, crying and talking to himself (or the people embroidered on his pillow) until he was alright. He got good at helping people sort out their feelings, which was a form of self-preservation. He had sensory issues that affected him in several ways: he vomited often, he was overstimulated often, he wanted to wrap his fingers in my wet hair often. 

 

In each case when I would notice, I would follow his lead and then attempt to help him make sense of what was going on for him and then lead him towards comfort - with himself and the world around him. 

 

Parenting Declyn was wonderful. We were close. We understood each other. We had deep conversations and shared our inner selves. 

 

At least, that's what I thought. 

Declyn

Turns out, I was quite mistaken! 

 

Oh, we have always been close, but he (along with all of his brothers) hid so much from me. I knew them, but also I did not. 

 

But I am not wrong in remembering much of our closeness. Of how much Declyn impresses me and finds ways to connect and have fun with me. 

 

So this morning, in celebration of Declyn on his birthday, I roller skated and rocked out to the entire soundtrack for The Greatest Showman. Because that is a memory of our closeness.

 

Declyn and I love to sing our hearts out, loud and proud, proper pitch and right words be darned! When we are in a car together we are unstoppable! From blocks away you will hear us coming (and though you are not likely to say "what lovely singing voices" you hopefully will think "what passion and joy"). 

 

When Declyn's brother bought him The Greatest Showman soundtrack, after having taken us to see the movie in theaters, it was an all out oh man we love these feelings rock out fest. For months! We were almost addicted! 

 

I didn't think about it then, but today, as I rock and rolled, I recognized why so much of the music would hit hard for my youngest son. The lyrics, the dreams, the "this is me" declaration, these and more are deeply Declyn. 

 

So today, I'm holding him this way. 

 

Holding him up, remembering and reliving and feeling, while hoping he will feel my love. A love I am pushing out into the world with intense rocking out energy. Perhaps his hyper empathy will help him feel it: as far as Montreal, Quebec is from Fallbrook, California, I wouldn't put it past him. He feels things. 

 

And when I hold him this way, I feel them too. 

 

Happy twenty-third birthday to my darling Declyn!

I love you!!

 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

 

If you want to rock out with me and Declyn, here's one of our favourites: 

 

 

Autism Answer: The Rash (or: Sensory Issues and Behaviors)

 

My brother at bowling, his face is red from a reaction to a snack

 

Randomly, and with no reason I can confidently get behind, I have patches of an incredibly itchy rash calling attention to themselves in a variety of places on my body. 

 

Aside from the part where I am (not very actively) attempting to identify the reason behind the rash, there is something else I am doing. 

 

Paying attention. Noticing how I feel and how it is affecting me. 

 

I love these opportunities. When my body hurts or itches; when my face calls attention to itself with blemishes, bruises, or welts; when I hurt or itch and it is calling attention to itself with blemishes, bruises, or welts - I like to notice how it influences my behavior and the behavior of folks around me. 

 

This rash, for example, feels sooooooooooo goooooooooood to scratch! I've had mosquito bites that feel good to scratch but this is something special! However, I am aware that it is generally a bad idea to scratch a rash, so I am trying to avoid thinking about it. I'm picking clothes specifically with the intention of not tickling it into awareness. I'm also choosing clothes meant to keep it from being seen. It isn't pretty, but more than that I don't want people consistently asking me about it or being concerned. 

 

There are more things I notice, but the point is my focus is on noticing. I try to take advantage of these opportunities to remember we are all living inside brains and bodies that behave in different ways, and we are all making choices that grow out of those different brains and bodies. 

 

It is a particularly helpful reminder for when my brother - who is unable to speak clearly - is doing seemingly odd things with his body: prodding the underside of his nose, smacking his thigh, rocking his head. I admit, when I was young and my mom would wonder, "Why is he doing that?" my thought would be, "Um, because he's weird." And, honestly, between you and me, I actually thought that was the answer. 

 

Luckily, my mom isn't so easily side tracked. She really wondered because, as I now understand, there is a reason and it can be helpful to know what that reason is. Following these clues doesn't always lead to knowing how to stop the behavior, how to fix the numbness or itch or pain, but it can. And it can lead to understanding it. And the attitude of knowing there is a reason leads to seeing the behavior differently; usually with less annoyance and more understanding. 

 

I won't fool myself into thinking now that I've had this rash I know what it's like to live in a body that has sensory sensitivities or a noticeable rash, I'm pretty sure mine will be temporary. Hence, I can take advantage of this opportunity from that privileged place. I am grateful to have these opportunities. 

 

I don't prefer pain or itching or attracting attention with bruises or blemishes, I don't wish I could keep them, but I do like attempting to understand how different my choices and beliefs would be if I did always or often have those things. 

 

Funnily: part of the reason I started to love the opportunity to notice and imagine is I prefer it over trying to figure things out or fix them. I am lazy that way. I'd rather have a rash or a pain and notice my behavior, assume the problem with solve itself, rather than focusing on figuring it out or fixing it. I like letting things happen and finding a way to be okay with them. That's easier for me. (It is not better, just easier. I have waited to the point of danger before.) This is something that, maybe, grew out of me spending this first half of my life in a brain and body that are fairly plain? Fairly middle of the road? This type of laziness probably grew out of me living in a body that, so far, has almost always figured itself out. 

 

I like that. 

 

I look forward to learning how to like it when my body changes and I do have to figure more things out. Hopefully all this noticing will help me have empathy (not sympathy) for myself.

 

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to notice myself sneaking off into another room where no one will witness me scratching this rash and it will feel sooooooooo goooooooood... 

 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!!

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: Naked

The other day I was chit-chatting and reminiscing with one of my adult sons. He's struggling lately with a strong discomfort around people outside of our family. He's tempted to allow his social anxiety to turn into social distaste and righteous anger at humanity. I get it, but I also know that it's not the best choice. Turning our fears and discomfort (largely because of feeling judged harshly) into harsh judgement isn't the healthiest recipe for happiness and helpfulness. So, we were talking about that. 

ME: Do you remember how much you loved people when you were little? You were the first to reach out and offer friendship to anyone, regardless of their age. Do you remember how happy you almost always were? 

ADULT SON: Sure, of course. But I was also always naked so it was easy. 

ME: (laughing heartily) Oh.... ya! (wiping tears and holding in pee) That's true! People sure did think I was weird letting you guys - especially you! - be naked all the time. But you liked it!! You were more comfortable! How could I not allow it?? 

Our conversation (and giggles) soon shifted from thoughts of living on a nudist colony to movies we want to write. Eventually I was able to bring us back around to our original topic (a trick that I've learned not to do if it can't be natural; my sons and I learn so much more when conversation is organic).

ME: You know, you don't have to be naked to find a way to tap into the part of you that can be comfortable. Remembering that being naked helped you when you were little is a clue: not dealing with that extra sensory discomfort made you free to be comfortable. Maybe take some time to figure out what your discomforts are now, and I'll help you choose which ones you can easily discard. Or "disrobe" if you will. 

ADULT SON: I get it, I get it. See if any of my discomforts are from rules made up by humans and not so much about me and who I am; who I want to be. See if I can just let some of the discomfort go. Stop caring about some of it.

ME: Yup! You got it! And, hey, if ya wanna be naked go to Europe. I saw whole families naked on the beach, comfortable and free. 

ADULT SON: Gross. 

Again, we laughed. 

We all have extra layers of discomfort. It helps to remind ourselves that some of those layers are completely unnecessary and worth discarding in order to get at the deeper discomforts with a little more ease. Once our worries and fears are completely naked they can look a little less intimidating. And we feel a little less encumbered. It becomes less overwhelming and more like a job that can get done. (Example: I used to think that I had to try to wear clothes that were nice, age appropriate, and if not flattering, at least not unflattering. But I found that so unnecessarily stressful! As soon as I let go of caring - even though I know there are people who do care and who do judge me because of it - every single day became far more comfortable.)

Honestly, most of my discomforts are rather silly! Beliefs I created so long ago they no longer are compatible with who I am today, so they sit there glitching my system. Once I see them for what they are, I can toss them out completely or give them a personalized upgrade. 

You don't have to get naked friends (although, you can!) but it is a good idea to let go of the stuff that doesn't truly matter to you as much as it seems to matter to the community around you, so that you can clearly see the stuff that truly does matter to you. The stuff that makes you proud, nervous, comfortable, uncomfortable, happy, content. Then, upgrade and update when necessary. Undress or dress up as desired. 

Have fun peeling those layers, friends!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

The stories and thoughts in my book are quite naked and a little self-conscious but mostly comfortable. Have a peek!

Autism Answer: We Choose Each Other

My son when he was still dealing with Irlen, sensory issues, and seizures.

My nineteen year old son just phoned me here in Texas from his bed in California. The sound of sleep was heavy on his words and, while I sipped my first cup of coffee for the day, it made me feel closer to him. 

He was calling so early because he had woke from a bad dream and wanted to talk it out with me; shed that feeling and start the day fresh. 

We chatted, we considered the dream, we chatted longer and made giggle worthy jokes. Not quite awake enough or in the right head space for guffaws or boisterous laughter, we giggled, and he felt ready to start the day fresh. He chose me and I was able to help.

When my son was small, dealing with Irlen Sydrome and seizures and sensory issues, often dealing with it by being startlingly rude and self-centered, I loved him and believed in him and looked consistently for the paths he could take to grow happier and healthier in order to point out those paths to him. I never believed I could make him healthy or happy, but I always knew that I could help him find his best path toward it.

You know what?
I believe he has.
I believe he has found those paths. 

And I love that it includes phoning me when he's struggling with feelings. Good and bad. 

Let's believe in all of our loved ones, friends! No matter what their obstacles are, they do have the ability to overcome or re-purpose them. As my sons grow older and move farther away I see that truth consistently. 

And I'm given an unexpected gift. One that is so important to me. They don't need me anymore, but they choose me. Often!

We choose each other! 

If I spent too much time trying to be the one who makes them happy or makes them healthy or makes them, well, anything, we wouldn't have the space to choose each other and to grow authentically. I would have been far too busy trying "fix" their lives or brains or issues and they would have been far too busy pushing away from me or thinking they needed me. 

It was one of the hardest things I learned when my sons were small, that I can't get inside their heads and make them love themselves and learn skills and be happy. But once I accepted it and took on the role of curious guide, our lives--though still challenging and with moments of monumental emotional pain--became clearly our own. 

And we choose each other. Not in every moment, not for every need, but for the ones where we have built a story that includes each other. 

While my son told me his dream we both felt surrounded by the past and teased by potential futures. We both felt the fear that comes with change and the uncertainty that comes with caring about people so so much. We didn't have to say many words because we've lived this story together his whole life. I listened entirely, knowing that his dreamland is his own--a place where he figures stuff out and it's unrelated to me, even though I will forever play a role. 

Let's remember to build stories that include each other without thinking we have the responsibility of deciding what kind of story a loved one should live. When we let go and become curious guides, they will always surprise us. 

And sometimes, they'll also choose us! 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

Me and my son (Tyran) now!

Autism Answer: "I Am Thankful for Uncle Dar."

Declyn and Dramma (his grandma)

"I am thankful for my uncle (Dar) because without him my grandma wouldn't have started her business that helps thousands of families with autism in the world."~Declyn Shelton

When my youngest son, Declyn, was about five months old he would twist his body in crazy positions to avoid eye contact and certain types of touch.

As he grew he would throw-up daily, hold me tight for at least an hour at the playground working up the courage to play where strangers played (even though his brothers invited and invited), he had a need to wrap his fingers in my hair that kept him forever in my arms. He and his other sensory and socially challenged brother became intense friends, with a closeness that made them seem like twins. 

This never frightened or worried me. I have grown up surrounded and gifted by autism. I have family members with similar sensory, social, and communication challenges. Because my mom has not only helped my brothers in these areas but also hundreds of others around the world, my son and I were in good hands. It was a simple question of enjoying the work. Which I strongly believe meant helping my son with his challenges while asking the world to be more open to diversity. It's not his job to be like us, it's our job to shift ourselves and learn to like all of us.

As a family we encouraged eye contact, discovered ways to help him keep his food down (mostly!), visited playgrounds intentionally over and over--not pushing him to become socially comfortable but believing he could and celebrating each step of the way--until he became Mr. Popularity. His need for wrapping fingers in my ponytail had lessened; became mostly a bedtime thing with the odd stressful-day type need thrown in for good measure.

Declyn is now involved in Marching Band, he's doing a trumpet solo for the regional competition, he's on the debate team, he's rarely home and consistently surrounded by people which he's quite comfortable with. Safe in the knowledge that when he comes home we'll allow him time alone and personal space. And I'll let him play with my hair when he needs it.

Declyn is fifteen. He is my youngest. My baby. I kind of want him to stay little and I even catch myself getting my hair wet for him (he loves it when my hair is wet) just in case he wants to still need me. Usually, he's busy.

I'm so proud of all four of my boys, who have helped each other, hurt each other, compared themselves to each other, pushed away, pulled close, but have always, always loved each other.

I'm thankful for my entire family.

I find it simple and natural to feel and express gratitude often, and with volume. My sons do the same, mostly when talking about each other or me.

One day while I was cleaning our house (okay, fine, trying to find something under all of the mess. tee hee!) I found a piece of schoolwork Declyn had done way back in his younger years, when he was still struggling pretty strongly with sensory issues and social challenges. 

"I am thankful for my uncle (Dar) because without him my grandma wouldn't have started her business that helps thousands of families with autism in the world."~Declyn Shelton

That heaping helping of gratitude and gratefulness is a delicious addition to the Thanksgiving season!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)
www.brainbody.net <--- Check out the business he's talking about.
www.tsarashelton.com
www.fourbrothersoneworld.com

My boys having burgers with Uncle Dar

Autism Answer: Me And My Hubby - Arm in Arm

When we're in public and I reach out to rub my husband's arm, or hold his hand, or wrap my arm around his waist, he usually pulls away from me, instinctively. He often then looks

Me and my hubby!

uncomfortably at the ground or around me - rarely at me. And then he'll say something completely unrelated to love. Like, did we remember to pay the gas bill?

I don't mind. I'm used to it. Also, I understand.

He's not got a sensory issue, like my youngest brother did. My youngest brother who also used to pull away when I'd go in for a hug. No, my husband is black and I am white and people don't like it, don't want to see it, and have always treated him unkindly because of it.

They don't treat me unkindly, much. I'm used to this too. 

I grew up going places with my brothers who all had different styles of functioning, and people would treat them unkindly. But they didn't treat me unkindly, much.

So I've grown accustomed to the people I love pulling away while the strangers that watch play an almost invisible role.

But it's not entirely invisible. I see it.

And when I use my privilege to point it out to them, an ever growing number of them see it too.

So I rub my husband's arm, I hold his hand, and I wrap my arm around his waist in public, even though I know he'll pull away, because he doesn't mind. Or, at least, he's learned not to mind. And I refuse to let the possible prejudices of strangers push their almost invisible judgements with such force that they knock all of us "strange" or "different" or "inconvenient" love display-ers down.

I have a vision: One day my husband will feel my arm around his waist, we'll be walking through the parking lot of our local grocery store, and everyone will be completely comfortable. 

I believe in this possibility.

My youngest brother, who had sensory sensitives (and still slightly does), reaches out to hug me now. His focus on being accepted, his hard work at finding where those accepting places are, and the control he has when he reaches for the hug first, have made him far more comfortable in his skin, even when it touches mine.

When we all take advantage of our differences and privileges, introduce ourselves to the world kindly and consistently, we actually do make a difference.

One day you'll see me & my hubby, arm and arm, comfortably disagreeing about the value of organic food; and if you stare at us it'll be because you like my boots.

Me and my brother!

Hugs, smiles, and love!! 
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

Author's Note: I feel that this is a timely post, because it's voting season. I can't vote on a ballot where I live, but I can vote (actively!) with my actions. So, I do and I will and I invite you to join me. Hugs!! ~Tsara 

Autism Answer: Parenting In The World

When I see a child (regardless of age) having a tantrum or melt-down in public, and I see a mom or dad or sibling struggle to help, or ignore, or teach, or insist, I rarely judge. The parent or the child.

I don't think "Well, maybe the child is autistic" or "Perhaps it's just because they've had a rough day" or "I hope that kid learns to behave soon" or "That family has their hands full" or... well, you get it. 

My own sons had tantrums and melt-downs. Sometimes because they were overwhelmed, sometimes because they thought it would get them what they wanted, sometimes because they liked the feeling of everybody staring at us. 

I didn't like it, and I always did my best to parent the way I thought I should in the moment, and that was that. 

So, when I see it happening with another family I generally smile and understand and think, "Parenting sure is a lot of work. And we all have to learn it in front of an audience. That makes it a little bit harder for most of us. But boy, it's totally worth it!"

I don't think it's kind to give parents a smile and a nice word just because their loved one might be autistic or have a sensory problem or painful gut issues. I think it's kind to give parents a smile and a nice word because they are people doing the best they can with what they know. 

And so are we. 

I'll admit, it was autism that gave me this thought. Autism answered again! It was because of loving people who struggle with sensory issues and gut pain and face blindness that I began to realize the importance of never judging others. I started off thinking "Well, they could be autistic." or "It could be an invisible problem that I should be accepting of." 

But then I realized..... well, heck! I should just plain and simply never judge others! It's not my place to make excuses for them, or to sit in judgement.

Having thoughtful opinions and ideas about the people in my world is nourishing and valuable. But choosing to judge them, as though I have some important role, is unhealthy for all of us. 

The world is already getting overly hidden away and unconnected. Being able to avoid grocery store meltdowns and playground social lessons has grown easier in a world that brings food and entertainment easily to your door or pocket with the click of a button. 

I suggest we make parenting in the world as kind and forgiving as possible. We don't have to remind ourselves "Maybe she's on the autism spectrum" but can instead remember "We're all doing the best we can with what we know."

And then we can connect and reach out to know more! 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: Sensory Issues and #TheDress

There's something I keep thinking about today, thanks to ‪#‎TheDress‬. 

You know, the dress that has families and friends and co-workers seeing different colors and wondering, "What's the trick"?

My mom (international mental health and autism expert Lynette Louise, The Brain Broad) used to see sound as color. Certain piano notes would shimmer a lovely shade of blue. Other people I know on the autism spectrum have myriad sensory issues which is why they see, hear, feel, smell, and taste things differently than those around them. 

I know this, and I try to remember this, and I care about this. 

Yet, when I was looking at the dress and seeing white and gold, and my sons were looking at the dress and seeing blue.... I was playfully frustrated and honestly confused. I know what I'm seeing! 

And even though I understand (some) of the science behind it all, I'm still deep down confused. I mean.... look at the dress! It's white and gold!!! Anyway....

If I can be confused and even a bit annoyed while so much of the internet is agreeing with me that it's confusing and worth talking about, how must it feel to be alone? To see and feel and smell and taste and hear differently while everyone tells you your "wrong"? While people who truly love you say, "Stop talking about it, just trust me. You're wrong."

I think I'm going to try and remember this dress for that reason. 

For those moments when I feel myself assuming my mom just wants attention, or I catch myself teaching my son why he's wrong about the way a song hurts his ears, or when I hear myself telling my brother to stop flinching because he's wrong and there are not brown flakes flying in his face. In those moments I'll remember this dress.  



I'm going to remember it for another reason as well. In those moments when I worry that being divided means we can never be united. When I fear that our clashing cultures can't ever find a way to harmonize. In those moments I'll remember this dress. Because, although everyone had fun arguing about the color, and although many of us were truly shocked at the honest strangeness of looking at the same thing and seeing it different, we were united in our willingness to wonder and be curious and ask why. We were united in our comfort with laughing at this strangeness. In those moments I'll also remember this dress.

You know the dress I'm talking about, right friends?

The white and gold one!! tee hee!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

The Dress: I see white and gold I tell ya!!