04/09/2026
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking more about what it means to be a father raising a child with autism.
There’s a part of this experience that I haven’t been able to fully put into words until recently. It’s not something I’ve really heard other fathers talk about openly either, but it’s something I’ve felt for a long time.
It’s the feeling of grieving a life that never actually happened.
Not grieving my son. I love my son more than anything. But grieving the version of fatherhood I once imagined. The experiences I thought we would have. The moments I used to daydream about before he was born.
This piece is my attempt to finally put that into words.
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