I’ve had a bad day, but not as bad as it’s been for my son.

I didn’t spend the day trying to write within the lines while my hands grasped the pencil so hard that it made my fingers hurt, leaving red bumps as a reminder that I have difficulty writing….but my son did.

I didn’t spend the day worried what would happen if I didn’t stick to my routine….but my son did.

I didn’t spend my day without underwear because I forgot to put them on….but my son did.

I didn’t spend the day with my shoes on the wrong feet because I can’t feel that it’s uncomfortable to have them on that way….but my son did.

I didn’t spend the day squirming in my seat because I was afraid to use the bathroom because the light turning on abruptly hurts my eyes….but my son did.

I didn’t spend the day covering my ears because the world is too loud….but my son did.

I didn’t spend the day clearing my throat, blinking my eyes, sniffing, or rocking my head back and forth because I was nervous or excited….but my son did.

I didn’t spend the day not knowing how to say “Hi” to people that talk to me, only answering them in short, awkward words or gestures….but my son did.

I didn’t spend the day going to the principal’s office twice because of my impulsive behaviors, not knowing why I did what sent me there in the first place….but my son did.

I didn’t spend the day wondering if I’m a terrible person because all of these things happen to me and I don’t know why….but my son did.

He spends every day of his life with these struggles. People see a child who needs more discipline. I see a while who needs more compassion, help, and guidance. I see a child who is kind and smart and exists in a world that doesn’t understand his differences.

I see a child with Tourette Syndrome and the co-morbid conditions that come with it.

I see my son.

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