Today is World Autism Awareness Day. And if I’m honest, “awareness” has never quite felt like enough.
Because awareness is easy.
Awareness is a social media post.
A blue heart.
A hashtag.
But living it? That’s something else entirely.
I am a mum to two autistic children, my twins, Jack and Freya.
They are funny, clever, kind, and completely themselves in a way the world doesn’t always make space for. They experience things deeply. They notice things others miss. They love in ways that are pure and honest. And I wouldn’t change who they are for a second.
But I would change the world around them.
Because the reality is, parenting autistic children is not just about celebrating differences. It’s about navigating a world that often feels like it wasn’t designed for them.
It’s the constant thinking ahead. The explaining. The advocating. The worrying.
It’s watching your children become overwhelmed in environments that others don’t even think twice about. It’s knowing a simple trip out can turn into something stressful, unpredictable, and exhausting — not because of them, but because of the lack of understanding around them.
It’s the looks. The judgments. The assumptions.
And sometimes… it’s the loneliness.
There are moments where you feel like you’re fighting a system that should be supporting you. Where you’re repeating yourself again and again just to be heard. Where you’re asking for what your child needs, not what is “extra”, and still having to justify it.
That’s the part people don’t always see on awareness days.
But alongside all of that, there is something else too.
There is pride.
There is fierce, unwavering love.
There are moments of joy that feel bigger because of the journey it takes to get there. Moments that might seem small to others, but are huge milestones in your world.
And there is growth — not just for them, but for me.
My children have changed the way I see everything. They’ve made me more patient, more aware, more compassionate, and more determined than I’ve ever been.
And that doesn’t stop at home.
In my role as a Participation Officer, I carry this with me every single day.
Because I don’t just hear young people, I understand how important it is that they are truly listened to. I know what it feels like when a child’s needs are misunderstood or overlooked. I know how damaging it can be when systems don’t adapt. And I know how powerful it is when a child finally feels seen, heard, and accepted.
That’s why participation matters so much to me.
Because every child, autistic or not, deserves to feel like their voice counts.
Not just today. Every day.
So today, on World Autism Awareness Day, I’m not asking for awareness.
I’m asking for more.
More understanding. More patience. More flexibility. More acceptance. And real change — in schools, in services, in communities, and in everyday interactions.
Because autistic children shouldn’t have to change who they are to fit into the world.
The world needs to do better for them.
