I love my children equally.
But I don’t love them the same way.
One of my children moves through the world with autism. The other does not. And somewhere between their very different needs, I am constantly learning what fairness truly means.
There are days when one child takes up more space, more time, more energy, more attention. Not because they are more important, but because they need more support to navigate a world that doesn’t bend easily.
I see the moments my other child waits patiently. The way they read the room before speaking. The way they step back when things become overwhelming.
It humbles me.
Parenting siblings where autism is part of the family has taught me that love isn’t divided it stretches. And sometimes, it stretches me too.
