Restored Faith

You have restored my faith in humanity. Yes, you. The outpouring of love and respect I have received on behalf of the autism community since my last post, Meet Mia, has been overwhelming. I had over 700 views in a 24 hour period – doubling my previous record of 334 for my post, Deception, about Mia’s diagnosis day. I have received many private messages through my Ask Me Anything page, from people wishing to share their thoughts with me anonymously. I will respect their wishes and keep them to myself. 

I am so completely overwhelmed by the response that I am truly at a loss for words. So much so that I am not even sure what to say today. I’m not sure what to write. I guess I just want to say thank you. Thank you for being educated enough to know a ridiculous sentiment when you hear or see one. Thank you so much to those who weren’t but wanted the facts and then drew educated conclusions from there. Thank you for wanting to educate yourselves. The amount of outgoing clicks to instructive links in that post was also amazing and it proves that those who do not know the facts want to know them. It proves, to me, that those of you who are unaware are seeking out a better understanding of what you do not know, or comprehend.

All of us together, as one, make up mankind. We are humanity. We hold in our very hands the way people are viewed. We are the ones who choose either to allow prejudice, ignorance, and intolerance to thrive, or, we can do what was done over the past few days and stamp it out before it can manifest into full fledged hate. You have shown me that the people holding those archaic views are a select few – they live among us, but they are not us. The future now seems a bit brighter to me and I have only you to thank.


(The face I get to look at when I’m down, Mia. Taken three days ago, after she dumped out a whole container of baby powder on the floor.)



One thought on “Restored Faith

  1. If it’s any consolation, I did the same thing when I was Mia’s age. I poured my aunt’s bath powder on my head, then walked out of her bathroom as though nothing had happened. Years later, my mom was still talking about “the day Martie played George Washington.”

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