I struggled with what to title this post. Autism Strikes Back? Return of Autism? What I really want to share is how my perspective on autism has changed over the years—how our family’s journey has shaped me in ways I never could have imagined.

Our experience with autism, at least formally, began about twenty years ago. Our oldest son had lost many of his skills, including almost all of his language, so we took him to a developmental pediatrician. After a series of tests, the doctor returned to us holding a box of tissues. Our son had autism.

At the time, the medical field was exploring ways to diagnose autism earlier by studying siblings, so the doctor asked if we would be willing to have our daughter participate in a research study. We agreed without expecting much. Then, unexpectedly, we received a second diagnosis.

For a time, we decided our family was complete, but later we changed our minds and adopted three more children. While I love all my children deeply, I have to admit that it was refreshing to have children with whom I could engage in back-and-forth conversations. Our oldest children are nonverbal, and while we communicate in meaningful ways, it isn’t always easy. Looking back, I wonder if it was selfish to have felt that way, but at the time, it was simply part of my reality.

Over the years, the autism community has shifted from viewing autism primarily as a tragedy to embracing it as a reflection of diversity. I wholeheartedly support this shift. At the same time, I also recognize that autism, for our family, has included real challenges. It was difficult enough that our two oldest children transitioned to group homes at a young age.

For the first time in years, our home was without autism. Or so we thought.

About ten years ago, I received my own autism diagnosis. My experience is different from my children’s, not simply in terms of “mild” or “severe” but in how we each experience the world. Autism does not look the same for everyone.

And yet, our journey wasn’t over. More recently, our youngest daughter was also diagnosed with autism. Her experience is unique again—different from her older siblings’ and different from mine. Receiving a third autism diagnosis for my children led me into deep reflection. If you had told me twenty years ago that three of our five children would be autistic, I would have been terrified. That would have seemed like far too much for one family to handle. And yet, today, that is simply our normal.

It’s not about labels like “mild” or “severe.” It’s about understanding autism as a spectrum of experiences, each with its own challenges and its own beauty. There are hard days that test our strength and wisdom, but there is also joy—a fresh way of seeing the world that I might never have known otherwise.

I was not devastated by another autism diagnosis. Instead, I have come to embrace what it means to be a majority-autistic family. In fact, all five of us—myself, my wife, and our three children—are neurodivergent in some way. Autism is simply part of who we are.

We are a family living on the spectrum. And for us, that is just life.