Positively (Im)perfect

Around here, Autism Spectrum Disorder, Level 1—also called Asperger’s Syndrome—is a person. Here, Autism awareness is simply a part of everyday life. It’s the gift of someone who reflects the brilliance & creativity of the Creator—with his own intricate thoughts & experiences, joys & disappointments, dreams & imaginings, strengths, & weaknesses—just like every other person. It’s learning how to think in a new way, communicate in a new way. It’s learning how to empathize, understand, react, & see in new ways. It’s big marvels & little worries. It’s little marvels & big worries. It’s once-overwhelming unseens that are now just our daily normal, like the trek back & forth to ABA therapy that became a surprising time of family bonding. It’s the usual meetings & phone calls. It’s the pivotal moments of mama bear advocacy, where—despite the fire in my belly—I wonder if I’ll ever be strong enough, equipped enough, educated enough, effective

One year ago I wrote a post on the reality of wrinkles. Fast forward 1 year, when life has heaped on more joy, stress, suffering, learning, more freckles-turned-age-spots, and of course, more wrinkles. I’d be lying if I said wasn’t still tempted by sparkly, smoothing filters, products & treatments touting age-defying magic, the pressure to hit the pause button on this gradual process of aging. But I also know that this is temptation over truth. Illusion over reality. Superficiality and pride over authenticity & wisdom enough to consider the long view. So I’m reminding myself of truth today: my life-lines are the visible manifestation of the sometimes invisible crucible of life experience — a lifetime of moments layered upon years of building character, strength, faith, & wisdom. It’s hard to withstand the world’s pressure to conform & compete in the pageantry of physical “flawlessness” as a prerequisite for acceptance; but peeling back the layers reveals