​So I watched all 8 episodes of the new Netflix series, “Atypical” in a day. And yes, I'm upset they didn't include an autistic actor and yes, I think it's wrong autistics weren't consulted in the creation of a character and yes, it was another show about a more high functioning autistic teen, and yes, it was another male instead of a female, and yes, there were stereotypes (again) and yes, feel free to judge away, I still loved it.

Perhaps I should have prefaced that first paragraph with the fact I do not have autism, I am a neurotypical mother who has three children, one of whom happens to have autism. That being said, "Atypical" is not a perfect show, but, is there any show that is perfect, besides Breaking Bad? As a mother of a child with autism, an autism blogger and an autism advocate, for me, “Atypical” did what it was created to do, it entertained me. I laughed, I cried, I sobbed BIG, UGLY tears and I even shouted, “Hell yeah” more than once!
 
It also brought back dark, lonely times. It reminded me of where I once was and where I am now. I felt the loneliness, the uncertainty and the guilt, oh dear heavens the guilt, all over again. I sent a text to me 19 year old neurotypical son who is away at college that read, “I’m sobbing through episode 4 of Atypical. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel less by trying to make Ryan feel more. I love you so much.” Then I went to my 11 year old neurotypical daughter and held her in my arms and said the same. Finally, I went to Ryan, my 15 year old son with autism and said, "Sorry for all the times I didn't get it and screwed up." Yep, guilt.

"Atypical" also made me laugh out loud, remembering things I had long since forgotten, but, mostly, it reminded me of the progress my son Ryan has made as well as the rest of our family. And although some of that progress, for all of us, was difficult, it was good to look back now and think, "we did it".
 
I know for parents loving a son or daughter with autism, many of us would like to see our child represented in a television show or movie so people would understand autism and our family. But we can't talk about wanting our child to be seen as unique and not like the next kid with autism and expect Hollywood to create a character who fits every individual on the spectrum. We can’t yell, “no more stereotypes” then be discouraged when our kid doesn’t fit the next character with autism on our television or movie screen.

Many of us loved “Friends”, but did they hit every demographic of every 20 something in the 90's? No. The Cosby show was a huge hit, but, did the Cosby family represent all black families in America? Not any more than Full House represented a white family in America. And as much as we love the day to day happenings at Seattle Grace Hospital, do you think every hospital in Seattle has a McDreamy or a McSteamy? Sadly, not. And for every 20 and 30 something woman who gathered around their televisions with girlfriends to watch Sex and the City while deciding which friend in their inner circle represented Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda, many weren't having sex or living in the city. That’s Hollywood folks.
 
Of course I don't want negative stereotypes about autism perpetuating mainstream media, and I know that there are many individuals with autism who are unable to work at a technology store fixing computers who are NOT represented anywhere in the media, but, I love that our autistic adults and children are represented at all.  When my son was small there was no Julia muppet, no Max, no Sheldon Cooper and no Sam, at that time, for me, it felt like Ryan was the only child with autism that I knew and for a while he was. And even if "Atypical" continues some of those negative stereotypes, I hope that those stereotypes are at least a conversation starter. "Oh your son Ryan has autism? I watched Atypical, is Ryan just like Sam?" For decades, there was no one on our televisions to even start that conversation.  

Here's the thing, when watching "Atypical", of course I made comparisons to my son, of course I made comparisons to myself, but, just like Sam is not Ryan, I am not Elsa.  Did I love seeing a family traveling a journey similar to mine on television? Of course I did, but, part of my binge watching had everything to do with hoping that Sam got his happy ending and transposing that hope for my son. Isn’t that what we all want in life and in a television series, a happy ending? And like any mother, there is no happy ending I want more, than for my children.
 
As for my son Ryan, he had no interest in watching “Atypical” because “it’s not a Japanese show that includes anime which is much more interesting than what you are describing”. “Atypical” may not be for you, (or my son), but, for this mother, the creators of the series did what I believe they set out to do, entertain me and show me the ins and outs of another family, who happens to love a child with autism. Oh, and teach me a lot more than I ever knew about penguins and Antarctica.

He smiled that, not quite a smile, smile. I knew he recognized her, but, he said nothing. Surrounded by the craziness that is a theatre concession stand with only a 15 minute intermission to get everyone what they need, it was a bit chaotic, but, I knew he saw her. In the madness of frantic kids trying to decide which sugary soda they should choose to wash down the equally sugary candy, I knew SHE didn't see HIM. I watched and waited, hoping he would initiate a hello, but, he didn't. Just as I was ready for my prompt, my standard blah, blah, blah, nag, nag mom comment of, "Isn't that so and so? You should say hello to her", she saw him.

And then, a huge, beautiful smile from the girl, and a hand that reached over to touch his arm. "Oh, hey Ryan! How are you?" His smile, now full blown and confident, "Hey (girl's name here). I'm good." Then the ordering of sodas and candy resumed. His smile remained and you could tell as he ordered his Sprite and Air Heads candy that even a high pressured concession stand decision was made with more happiness and confidence after that brief social exchange. 

Ryan once told me that making friends is a risk and since he's not a big risk taker, that's why he doesn't really have any close friends. At least not a friend in the way you or I, or the rest of the neorotypical world, would perceive a friend. Most of his peers are kind and friendly, but, not really "friends".

I can't say that I blame him. He is kind of right. It is a huge risk being a friend. When you make a friend you put yourself at risk of being hurt or hurting someone else. What if the friend doesn't like you as much as you like them? What if the friend hurts your feelings, lies to you or leaves you? What if you say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing and hurt your friend? It's a risky game, this friendship thing, with sometimes heartbreaking consequences.

When you have that connection with a friend, you feel their heartache when they are sad, you feel their fear when they are scared, you feel their frustration when they are angry, you feel their pain when they are hurting and you feel their desperation when they are barely hanging on. Why subject yourself to all that extra "feeling" if you don't need to, I mean, life is hard enough on your own without carrying someone else's pain, right? 

But what Ryan doesn't understand, because he has yet to really make that connection with a friend, is the flip side to the friendship coin. That although a risk, making a friend, having a connection with a friend also allows you to feel their joy when they are happy, feel their pride when they succeed and feel their love when you desperately need it.

Someone once said to me, "The deeper you get with someone, the greater the pain WHEN they let you down". Not IF they let you down, but, WHEN they let you down. I thought to myself, that's a terrible way to live. Do some people really expect WHEN and disregard that IF may never happen?

Yep. And my kid is one of them. Rejection and heartache have proven to him time and again that it's not IF, it's WHEN so why take the risk. "Because it's worth it", doesn't resonate when you took the risk once, a risk that honestly every neuron in your brain went against, and you got burned and worst yet, you had no idea why. When your friend ding dong ditched you, but, didn't have the courage, the maturity or the kindness to tell you why they walked away, the risk and the pain was NOT "worth it" because in the end, the friend is gone and you are left alone, right where you believed you should have been all along.

I have always wondered, does Ryan prefer to be alone, or is it just easier to be alone? I felt like that question was answered a few weeks ago, when I went to visit my girlfriend, and her 18 month old daughter ran to me and asked for "RyRy". When I told "RyRy" this later, he smiled and said, "I wish she were my age, then I wouldn't be so alone". (Pick heart up off the floor here). You see, babies don't know the risk that comes along with loving a friend, they love and feel with reckless abandon, with no regard to risk and so it is equally easy to risk loving them right back. 

I told Ryan the reason I think this sweet, little toddler loves him so much is because he knows with her he can be his silly, funny, self and she adores him with no risk. No prompt is needed when he sees her, he greets her with confidence and joy. Ryan doesn't feel confident enough to do that with a beautiful 16 year old girl at the theatre concession stand. In his mind, he has said and done the wrong thing, reacted the wrong way and been rejected too many times, so it's not worth the risk of "messing up" again.

I would give anything for teenagers and adults to love like a toddler. To see everyone as a source of entertainment and joy. To not care what a person wears, what a person says, or how a person responds. To accept everyone just as they are seen in the eyes of a toddler, with kindness, joy and love. 

I continue to hold out hope that one day my son will find someone who sees him the way my friend's beautiful girl does...funny, silly, kind and safe. That one day, he will see a friend in the theatre concession stand line or the mall or in the hallway at school and greet them with confidence and feel assured that the risk and the friend really are "worth it".