​What does kindness look like? We know kindness can "look" like many things. A kind word, a nice gesture, a charitable contribution, or just showing up. An act of kindness is  much easier to discern than a kind person.

It’s hard to know who to trust, who we can count on, who will have our backs or who will betray us. It would be nice to have some type of radar that immediately goes off warning us to stay away from THAT person. To some extent we do, especially in extreme circumstances. Walking alone on a dark street at night and someone stares at you a little too long, it tends to make your radar go off. You may feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as your steps quicken because you just got "a bad feeling”, but, in normal everyday life, in everyday situations, our radar may not signal us.
 
The friend you thought you could always count on, one day ghosts you. The spouse you thought would never cheat, blindsides you with, “there is someone else”. The boss who always had your back until one day they didn’t. Of course hindsight is 20/20, but, regardless we always ask, "Why didn’t I see that coming?" For many people with autism, seeing it coming can be even more challenging than it is for us neurotypicals.
 
My son recently asked me why it takes so many trials to figure out who is kind. He wondered why we can’t determine who we can trust, who will show up, and who won’t hurt us immediately. “Why can’t we figure that out in one trial?” he asked. Or better yet, why can’t we just know "by looking at someone" if they are kind? A built in kindness radar, wouldn’t that be something?
 
It broke my heart to tell him that we usually can’t tell by just a look and that it often takes time to determine the different levels and types of kindness, some are authentic and some are not. Some kindness is all about the receiver and some kindness is all about the giver. There is the, I am being kind because I need/want something from you. And the, I am being kind because my mom told me I have to. There is also the, I am only kind to you when none of my cool friends are around. And the one he struggles with recognizing the most is the, I am being kind because I feel sorry for you.
 
But there is also good kindness. Really, really good, genuine kindness. Kindness you can count on, that is authentic, that is real and that always, always shows up. There is the, I am being kind by putting your needs above my own. And the, I am being kind because I love you and I want to make you feel that love. There is also, I am being kind because I want you to be kind to me too.  And last, but, certainly not least, there is your very basic, I am being kind because it feels better to be nice than to be an a**hole. My son got it right though, it takes multiple trials, it takes time, it takes getting hurt, being betrayed, learning from our mistakes and it takes risks to determine the real versus the phony, the moment versus the long haul and the selfish versus the selfless, in other words, it’s not easy. And that is why my son spends most of his time alone. He wants a kindness radar and I can’t give him one.
 
We talked about the people who have shown him kindness and what that felt like. The theme was consistency, love, safety, support, concern and seeing him, really seeing him and accepting him just as he is. I told him that although he may not have a radar, he has these positive experiences that can act like a bit of a radar for him. I also reminded him that kindness is a two way street and that in order to get kindness you have to give kindness and to do that, you have to take a risk by letting people in, and this is where he falters.
 
My son's very black and white mind is terrified of that risk, determining real kindness from phony kindness can be a very gray area. Whether it’s how a new shirt will feel or how a new food will taste, or if this person or that person is kind or will hurt him, he wants to know how it’s going to turn out. He wants a kindness radar. My God, don’t we all?
 
I continue to hope that one day there is someone, some potential friend that will trigger a good internal feeling, his own kindness radar, so to speak, that will allow my son to take a risk so that he can feel confident in knowing what it means to give and get kindness because even though it's dicey and there are no guarantees, kindness (and friendship) really is worth the risk. 

Wiki defines risk as “a situation involving exposure to danger.” Most of us want to avoid danger. An Enter at Your Own Risk sign posted next to a rickety old bridge, might make most of us non-thrill seekers avoid a possible plunge to our death, so, we find another way to get where we are going. My son Ryan is a practical, non-risk taking guy and that is why there is no way he would cross that bridge. He would absolutely take a safer, alternative route and skip the bridge (and the risk) altogether.

Last week, when we were talking about friends and his desire to be “anti-social” as he calls it, I asked if that’s what he wants or if that’s what is easier. He took a minute to gather his thoughts. "I don't know if it's worth the risk," he said as he stared out the car window. My heart felt both happy and sad.  I was thrilled that he was able to articulate his feelings so well, and sad that at almost 17, my son doesn't understand the joy and wonder of what it means to have, and be, a friend. To my son, trying to make a friend, feels almost as dangerous as that rickety old bridge, so, he finds other ways to get where he needs to go.

I tried to explain to Ryan that opening yourself up to friendship does make you vulnerable, but, having someone to confide in, to stand by you, to understand you and to love you, is worth the risk. Not ever really having that kind of friendship experience, he wasn’t convinced. I tried a different approach.

“Look at all the risks you have taken that have paid off. Musical theatre, select chorale groups and music camp.” Still staring out the window he said, “That's taking a risk at something I am good at. I’m not good at people.”

Understanding people and knowing who to trust and who is worth the risk is like crossing that rickety bridge with a blindfold; dangerous, scary, uncertain and in his mind, not worth it. Maybe this is why in most social settings he finds an alternate way around. Sitting alone, avoiding parties, not staying overnight at music camp and spending as much time isolated as he can, helps him to avoid the dangers of social blunders, language mishaps and misreading the emotions of others. One wrong mistep, one weakened board and down he goes. Crossing that bridge is just not worth the risk.

At least not yet.

My son's words struck my heart, and sat with me the rest of the day. I was overcome with both sadness and pride. Sadness that making a friend feels so risky to him and pride for not only his ability to recognize the risk of opening yourself up to someone, but, also that he felt safe enough to open himself up to me.

​Even though my son knows this bridge is VERY OLD (he points out my gray hairs regularly), he knows I am reliable and will always hold him up. One day, there may be someone on the other side of that bridge that compels my son to ignore the Enter at Your Own Risk warning and he takes a risk and crosses that bridge, but, until then, I will take his hand and help him find another way around.

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".