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But every afternoon the same child who held it together all day walks through your door and falls apart. The clothes she can't wear, the foods she won't touch, the mornings that take an hour before anyone leaves the house. You see something nobody else does. And some nights you wonder if you're the problem.
You're not the problem. You're the only one paying attention.
Sound familiar?
Your daughter isn't misbehaving. She's masking. She spends all day studying other girls, copying their body language, learning their rules, performing "normal" so convincingly that every adult around her relaxes. By the time she gets home she has nothing left. Your kitchen is the only place safe enough to collapse.
The diagnostic system was built almost entirely on boys. That's why the professionals keep missing her. That's why you feel crazy.
I'm Alyssa. I'm not a doctor. I'm an autistic mother of an autistic daughter who spent years blaming herself before she understood what she was looking at. I made every mistake you can make and I'll tell you about each one. Think of this as coffee at midnight with someone who's already been through it.
What you'll find inside:
You're terrified about her future. Whether she'll manage. Whether she'll be okay when you're not there.
She will. Because a girl who grows up understood - actually understood, not managed - grows into someone who can handle a world that wasn't designed for her.Thanks for subscribing!
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