Twelve isn’t an easy age. I remember it well. That feeling of being in the wrong skin, of your expanding consciousness, of the weight of impending adulthood and big, important choices, coming just around the bend.

But I wasn’t austistic. Nor did I have a host of other diagnoses. Nor had I been hospitalized.

We have been through a great deal with our son. We’ve had just about every intervention you can imagine at this point. He even had a stint at the incredible Wright School in Durham, NC. We had hoped that after that work he could make it work at his private school — a fantastic institution that is built for kids like Liam, who often fall into the “black hole” of care by needing support but being high-functioning.

You can read the whole post at Medium.

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  1. […] came to understand, was that my son was neurodiverse and that our entire trajectory was different. I have written at length on the subject, and it’s colored the last almost fourteen years of my life with a very specific tint. So much […]

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