The Boy Who Changed Everything

There’s something about the end of the year that invites reflection. The quiet moments between Christmas and New Year. The pause before we do it all again. And as I look back, I realise this year…like every year since you came into my life…has been shaped by you.

I talk a lot about the challenges. The hard days. The school mornings that feel impossible. The sensory overload, the misunderstandings, the advocating, the explaining, the constant translating of a world. Those things are real, and they matter. They deserve space.

But this isn’t that post.

This is the post about how one little boy can come into your life and change it so completely that everything you thought you knew about the world quietly rearranges itself.

Before you, I thought I understood life in fairly simple terms. That effort led to reward. That if you followed the rules, things mostly worked out. That childhood was meant to look a certain way, parenting another, success another still. I didn’t question it…I just absorbed it.

And then you arrived.

And slowly, gently, relentlessly, you unravelled all of that.

You taught me that progress doesn’t always look like forward motion. Sometimes it looks like standing still. Sometimes it looks like going backwards. Sometimes it looks like licking a carrot, or asking the same question for comfort, or finding regulation in places others would never notice.

You taught me that the world isn’t built for everyone…and noticing that fact changes you. Once you see it, you can’t unsee it. You start to question systems. Expectations. Labels. You start to ask who things are really designed for, and who is left working twice as hard just to exist within them.

You taught me patience I didn’t know I had. And a kind of love that is fierce, protective, and exhausting all at once. The kind of love that sits in car parks crying after school runs. The kind that celebrates things no one else sees. The kind that breaks your heart and heals it in the same breath.

You taught our family how to slow down. How to listen differently. How to read between the lines. How to notice the small wins…because sometimes the small wins are the big ones.

You changed the way I see other people too. Less quick to judge. More aware that everyone is carrying something unseen. More willing to sit with discomfort rather than rush to fix it.

This year has been hard. There’s no dressing that up. It has tested us in ways I never imagined. But it has also been full of moments that are quietly extraordinary…moments that only exist because of you.

You didn’t just change our routines. You changed our values. You changed our definition of success. You changed our understanding of joy.

And yes, there are days I wish the world was kinder. Easier. More flexible. Days I wish you didn’t have to work so hard just to be yourself. Days I wished I didn’t have to work so hard to help you be yourself.

But there are also days I look at you and think: how lucky are we?

Because knowing you has changed us forever.

And that — despite everything — is pretty special.

So thank you.

Thank you for making us into who we are today. Thank you for amusing us. Thank you for your little dances and the way you make us laugh. Thank you for being exactly who you are.

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If you’re raising a child who has quietly reshaped your world, I’m with you. Feel free to share this, or leave a comment — sometimes it helps just to know someone else understands.