I see you whispering, your sidelong glances, and giggling. I know you don’t want her touching your things because you might catch her “weirdness.” I see you walking away when she comes near. And I understand your point of view. When I was your age I was the same way. I whispered. I glanced. I giggled. Even though I knew better. I did it anyway. Because like you, I just wanted to fit in.
Now though, I’m older and I’m wiser and I have a daughter with autism. And watching her being ostracized hurts. Even though she is oblivious to the stares, whispering, and giggling it still hurts my heart. Tremendously.
I want her to have a friend who will talk to her. I want her to have a friend who will dance with her. I want her to have a friend who will embrace her quirks; and I want…
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