Oh the irony of life. Here’s what I’m talking about—as I have gotten older I have become less flexible, mainly, of course, in my body, my joints popping more and my ability to sit on the floor for any length of time pretty much gone with the lower numbers of my age. However, as my girls have gotten older, their flexibility has increased, specifically their emotional and perspective flexibility. Or, in other words, their ability to pivot has grown and stretched, and, for that, I am increasingly grateful, because, I have to admit, I am not always as flexible in my thinking as I want to be either.

I’m fairly certain we are all familiar with the saying from the ancient Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, the only constant in life is change. Unfortunately, for some of us, it doesn’t matter how constant or consistent change is, it remains challenging. I’m not saying I don’t flex my ability to pivot, but I am suggesting it can take me a bit longer than some to accept a sudden change in our schedule or our day. Perhaps that’s why I’ve always understood the rigidity my girls demonstrated when they were younger. Transitions were difficult and changes felt almost impossible, inciting tears and frustration and even meltdowns. For the autistic brain, rigidity and black and white thinking often is the norm. And that’s okay, especially given all the other aspects of life an autistic is navigating at any given moment.

But, as my girls have become teenagers, I have noticed in them the ability to navigate change a bit more readily and, at times, even easily. They even tend to exhibit grace in some of those moments, grace I welcome because even if they can accept schedule changes and plan pivots, I still don’t like to throw those curve balls their way. Of course, sometimes it’s inevitable, and I am reminded just how far we’ve come on their journeys through this life.

When they were younger, my husband and I often waited to tell our girls about future plans because after the first few experiences of upset over things that didn’t pan out, we recognized it was better for all of us to wait until plans were definite. This was two-fold. Sometimes, long-range plans, like travel, could bring not only excitement and anticipation, but also a build up of anxiety. But when something so anticipated like a trip, even just to the pool, had to be canceled or rescheduled, the disappointment was great. This was not necessarily something we understood in the moment, but with hindsight.

For example, when one of our teenagers was a toddler, we visited a Five Guys Burgers to enjoy some burgers and a lot of French fries and we sat at a high-top window seat and watched all the people passing by in both directions in front of us. Our girl had so much fun eating and getting up and down in the tall chair. When we were in that same area a few weeks later, we decided to stop back in for some more fries. Unfortunately, there were no tall seats along the front window and we needed to take a “regular” table. Well, our toddler wasn’t having it. The meltdown was almost immediate and fierce. When it didn’t abate with our usual attempts to distract or redirect, we opted to leave. It was not until much later I realized what happened—she’d expected to sit at the same table and when that didn’t happen, she didn’t have the ability at that age to shift her expectations or be flexible.

These days, our girls are both better at communicating their needs and their thoughts. They are also better equipped in the flexibility department. I appreciate that even on the morning of an appointment or anticipated outing, we can make shifts in our plans and they are able to go with the flow. Of course, just because they are better able to do that doesn’t mean we don’t acknowledge the change might be difficult to accept. In the same way my girls tend to exhibit grace in those moments, we, too, like to do likewise. And, if we are able, we still like to provide them choices when we can to make the change less jarring. 

My 17 year old asked me last night why parents tend to get out of sorts and angry when their teenager expresses themselves in a way that seems rude or disrespectful or when they appear to “act out” according to the parent. For me, that’s not an easy question to address because I’m not sure I completely understand that response either, that response that is steeped in a power struggle and a need to exert control over behaviors and attitudes. Mind you, I get how that can trigger certain feelings; I’m not immune to feeling triggered at times. But, ultimately, I try to remind myself that our children, including our teenagers, are people, not things to be controlled. Rather, they are human beings who also experience triggers and emotions and their reactions are not necessarily directed at us in the ways we think. Maybe it’s in being flexible with our teenagers that they then have learned how to be more flexible. And in their flexibility, they are better able to help us understand how they think. And I am grateful these two remarkable young women are learning to help me help them on their journeys.