For the longest time, loss was a constant companion on my autism journey, and now that I have seen it for what it is, I can feel the grip gradually loosening. I have learnt that many of the things I once clung to, some of sentimental value, others less so – had to be lost for a rebirth to emerge. It is this very loss that has brought about some of my greatest transformations.
Motherhood, for example, is a balancing act between gain and loss. The moment you bring a new life into this realm, you are not only partaking in the beauty and magnificence of nurturing the rise of a new generation but also experiencing the loss of your carefree days, your youthful dreams, and sometimes, even your sense of self. With each birth, a part of you transforms, often in ways you couldn’t have imagined. For me, the arrival of my child brought immense joy, but also a series of losses that would shape me in ways both painful and profound.
One of the first things I lost was the quiet, peaceful haven which, in a way, was my anchor. I had finally achieved what I thought was “the life” – financially secure, orderly, and in control. But autism doesn’t care about any of that and so, money began to trickle out of my hands in exchange for private schooling, medications and therapies. I was convinced that if I invested in these, I would regain the peace I once had. But while I was focused on gaining control through external means, I lost the very thing that had given me that illusion of control – my job.
The trauma surrounding the loss of that job at that time was too overwhelming for me to even consider going back to the corporate space. Instead, I started my own business rendering the same professional services as per my previous employment, and while it never measured up to the financial security thereof, this business brought me absolute fulfillment and sustained me comfortably. Just as I was preparing to soar to the heights of my dreams, another wave of loss crashed into my life.
My son’s destructive behavior turned my once beautiful, peaceful home into a battleground. Furniture was destroyed, and renovations became a never ending cycle. Every time I rebuilt, the destruction would be more severe the next time. It felt like an endless loop of loss – loss of material possessions, loss of the sense of sanctuary that a house is supposed to provide, and loss of control over my own life. The money that went down the drain with every renovation was immeasurable, and I lost count of the number of times I tried to restore my home to its former glory.
Throughout this time, my work and my ability to provide for my family were the only things keeping me steady amid the chaos, however, autism, in its relentless way, demanded more. So when the COVID19 pandemic hit and took all my retainer clients with towards the end of 2021, and leaving me with the shame and guilt of being unable to properly provide for my children, you can just imagine how helpless I felt.
As I spiraled deeper into the complexities of my journey, the losses multiplied. I lost my son, not physically, but emotionally, as he turned out to be the opposite of what I had once envisioned for him as he grew older. My eldest daughter, unable to cope with the chaos at home, left. My grandmother, my biggest emotional support and prayer warrior, passed on and the grief from that was overwhelming. As if that was not enough, a lot of misunderstandings surfaced and with that, close relatives and good friends drifted away.
Maintaining a brave front and trying to stay afloat for the longest of time, I found myself stuck and for the very first time, unable to free myself. I crashed
In that moment, I realized how much of my life was defined by material possessions and titles – without them, my life was meaningless and overwhelming. However, as devastating as that moment was, I now understand that my rebirth was waiting for me in that pit. In my solitude, stripped of the distractions of work and comforts I finally awakened to the world around me and how it has impacted my life. I got to understand that as unfortunate as this is, it does indeed take some kind of trauma for one to awaken to their consciousness.
I learned that loss on this journey is often a necessary tool of transformation that helps to accelerate our consciousness and propel us towards our life purpose. This has taught me that even in the midst of destruction and chaos, there is always room for growth.
For anyone who has felt the crushing weight of loss on the autism journey, I want you to know this. You are not alone, and while the losses may feel insurmountable at times, they do not have to be the end. They are often the beginning of something new and beautiful.
After all, rebirth is only possible when we let go of what no longer serves us.