Today, one of my nightmares came true.
My five-year-old daughter is autistic, and she started kindergarten this year. I have been terrified since before the first bell rang. Every day I wonder: Is she playing with anyone? Does she have friends? Is she listening to her teacher? Is she okay?
Here's the irony. Professionally, I'm a psychologist who specializes in autism evaluations for children. I sit across from parents every week and walk them through diagnoses, IEPs, accommodations, and next steps. I know the systems and I know the research. I can tell you exactly what a 504 plan covers.
None of that has prepared me for being her mom. Logically, I know what to do. Emotionally, I'm figuring it out one day at a time, like every other parent reading this.
The Road to "Friend"
Her teacher has given me good news and hard news. It took more than a month before my daughter could tell me the name of anyone she played with. Then one day she did. She had a friend.
So we set up a play date. Her friend and her friend's mom came over, and it was wonderful. I watched my girl laugh, share, and play. I might have cried a little after they left (happy tears, for once).
A few days later her teacher pulled me aside. My daughter had become a bit fixated on her new friend. She didn't want to separate from her, and she didn't want to play if other kids joined in.
My heart sank. We'd been practicing friendship skills at home: taking turns, sharing a friend, letting other kids join. I think it helps. But I can't be on the playground with her. I can't whisper "it's okay, let her play with Emma too" at exactly the right moment.
The Text Message
Then today, her friend's mom texted me. The girls sang together at a school assembly. She said it was adorable, and it was. Then she gently asked about my daughter's aide and her headphones, and whether she was on the spectrum.
No one outside our circle had ever asked me that directly. I started crying. It felt like our cover had been blown.
I want to be clear: I am not ashamed of my daughter or her diagnosis. Not for one second. But I am protective. My fear isn't the word "autism." My fear is that people will see only the word. That she'll stop being "the girl who loves to sing" and become "the autistic girl," someone to be kind to out of pity instead of a real friend.
The mom was lovely. She said they see my daughter as a friend, not a diagnosis. I believe her. And I'm still scared, and both of those things can be true.
Now, the Bright Side
This blog is called The Bright Side for a reason. So after the tears dried, I made myself look at today again. Here's what I found.
My daughter has a friend. A real one, whose name she says at dinner. A month ago I didn't know if that would happen this year.
Her "obsession" is actually a sign of connection. Clinically, I'd describe it this way: she found something she loves (a person!) and she's holding on tight. Fixating on a friend isn't a lack of social interest. It's a whole lot of social interest that she hasn't yet learned to share flexibly. That's a skill, and skills can be taught.
Another mom noticed my daughter, and she chose to ask kindly. She didn't gossip or quietly pull her child away. She texted me directly, with warmth, after sharing something sweet. That's what an ally does.
Her supports are working. The headphones and the aide that "gave us away" are the same things helping her get through a loud assembly and sing on stage next to her best friend. Visible supports aren't a sign she's failing. They're the reason she's succeeding.
The secret was never really a secret. Kids notice, and parents notice. Keeping autism unspoken doesn't protect her from being seen; it only means other people fill in the blanks themselves. Today, I got the chance to fill them in.
Actionable Steps for Parents Who Are Scared, Too
If you're where I am, here's what I'm doing (and what I'd tell the families in my office).
1. Decide your disclosure story before someone asks
You don't owe anyone your child's diagnosis. But having a short, comfortable script ready keeps you from being blindsided. Try something like:
"Yes, she's autistic. Loud places can be a lot for her, so the headphones help, and her aide helps her with transitions. She absolutely adores your daughter."
Lead with who your child is. The diagnosis is one fact; her love of singing, her humor, and her loyalty are others.
2. Give other parents (and kids) a role
People who see a diagnosis as a "charity case" usually don't know what to do. So tell them. "If the girls play together, it really helps when there's a clear plan or a structured game." Specific roles turn sympathy into partnership.
3. Partner with the teacher on the playground skills you can't coach
You can't be at recess, but the school team can. Research supports teaching social skills in the settings where kids actually play, including programs where classmates are coached to include and model skills for the autistic child. These have been shown to improve playground interaction and how often typical peers name the autistic child as a friend (American Academy of Pediatrics, Hyman et al., 2020). Ask:
Can we add a specific social goal to her IEP or plan, such as "plays with a friend when a third child joins"?
Can the aide prompt in the moment, using the same words we use at home?
Are there structured small-group games at recess so "three's company" feels predictable?
4. Keep the home coaching going, and make it concrete
Parent coaching genuinely helps young autistic kids build social and communication skills (Lord et al., The Lancet, 2018). Some things that work well at this age:
Social stories about "sharing a friend": what happens, how it might feel, and what to do. The AAP describes this kind of social narrative as a popular, practical tool (Hyman et al., 2020).
Role play with stuffed animals: practice "Can I play too?" from both sides.
Small play dates that grow: after a successful one-on-one, try adding a third child in a short, structured activity.
Praise flexibility out loud: "You let Maya join your game. That was so kind, and look how fun it was!"
5. Reframe the "negative" updates
When the teacher shares something hard, ask yourself: what skill is missing, and what is my child trying to get? My daughter isn't being unkind. She's trying to keep something precious. Seeing behavior as a skill gap rather than a character flaw makes it easier for everyone, me included.
6. Watch your own anxiety (kindly)
This one is for me as much as for you. Parents of autistic kids experience more stress than other parents, and that's not a personal failing. It's real, and it deserves care (Hyman et al., 2020). Our kids also pick up on our worry, so caring for ourselves helps them, too (Vasa et al., 2016). Peer support from other parents has been linked to less stress and a more positive outlook (Hyman et al., 2020). Find your people: a local group, an online community, or one friend who gets it.
7. Let the good moments count
Write down the wins. "She named a friend." "She sang at the assembly." "Another mom reached out." On the hard days, read the list.
Where We Go From Here
I texted the mom back. I told her yes, my daughter is autistic, and that she's funny, loyal, and loves music, and that she talks about her daughter all the time. I thanked her for asking kindly.
My cover wasn't blown. A door opened.
I still don't fully know what I'm doing, even with the credentials on my wall. But I know my daughter has a friend, a team at school, and a mom who will keep showing up. That's the bright side, and today it was pretty bright.
If you're a parent who's scared for your kiddo, tell me in the comments: what's one win, however small, from this week?
Warmly,
Kandice Benallie, PhD
Founder & Psychologist
Bright Futures Neurodevelopment
References
Hyman, S. L., Levy, S. E., Myers, S. M., & Council on Children With Disabilities, Section on Developmental and Behavioral Pediatrics. (2020). Identification, evaluation, and management of children with autism spectrum disorder. Pediatrics, 145(1), Article e20193447. https://doi.org/10.1542/peds.2019-3447
Lord, C., Elsabbagh, M., Baird, G., & Veenstra-Vanderweele, J. (2018). Autism spectrum disorder. The Lancet, 392(10146), 508–520. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0140-6736(18)31129-2
Vasa, R. A., Mazurek, M. O., Mahajan, R., Bennett, A. E., Bernal, M. P., Nozzolillo, A. A., Arnold, L. E., & Coury, D. L. (2016). Assessment and treatment of anxiety in youth with autism spectrum disorders. Pediatrics, 137(Suppl. 2), S115–S123. https://doi.org/10.1542/peds.2015-2851J
