If autism reshaped my parenting, it reshaped sibling relationships even more.
Balancing needs has been one of my hardest lessons. One child requiring more support, more time, more patience—while another quietly adapts, waits, understands.
I worry about what my neurotypical child carries silently. The moments they step back. The times they say, “It’s okay,” when I know it wasn’t.
We talk openly. We name differences without assigning blame. I remind them that fairness doesn’t always mean equality—it means meeting each child where they are.
I see compassion growing in ways I couldn’t have taught intentionally. A deep empathy. A maturity beyond years.
