The perks of travelling with an ASD child…
Did I say that?
Did I really say that?
I would do almost anything to get out of travelling with my ASD daughter, except, that is, in the comfort of the privacy of our own car.
Why? I have nothing to complain about. She is a good traveller. Unlike many people on the spectrum, my daughter copes with travel and change quite well. She doesn’t need her routine to stay the same, although she prefers it. She isn’t going to have meltdown or refuse to go somewhere. I am lucky.
No, the problem is with me. I get so anxious. Although she travels well, she is still autistic and things are hard for her. The food is a problem….the toilet is a problem…the queues are a problem….my embarrassment is a problem…
Until recently, my daughter looked quite “normal”. When she was little, she looked like Shirley Temple, all ringlets and sweet smiles. What you can get away with as a charming girl, doesn’t go down so well on a 17 year old. The sweet smiles can be misinterpreted…the gazing at other travellers in the check in line becomes intrusive…the constant folding of clothes on a teenage body is inappropriate…
The good news is that all of this means she no longer looks “normal”. I used to worry that people would judge her if they knew she had special needs and would be unkind. In fact, I find the opposite to be true. Now, my daughter’s condition is such is that she is never alone in public. She would be completely unsafe on her own, not only because she wouldn’t have a clue about what to do, but also because her trusting nature and obvious disability makes her so vulnerable.
So when I say, I find the opposite to be true, it’s because she is so obviously “not normal”, that people make allowances. They wonder why she is staring and then see a grown teenager holding my hand and stop wondering. They see me stroke her back to calm her as we wait, and wait, and wait in line for an airline check in that never seems to happen and they realize she is different.
All the time though, my heart is pitter pattering though, just wanting it to be over soon so I can get back to the safety of our home. I don’t like the visibility it all brings. I don’t like the worry over when she will manage to use the toilet. I don’t like knowing she can never, ever, sleep on a plane, so she will just become progressively more exhausted.
So where are the “perks”?
This last trip I did with her, when I travelled alone with her on two 18 hour journeys, was the first I used the “autism” card…
We were in Gatwick (London) airport, waiting, with 300 other people, for the desk to be shown for us to check in. I had arrived 3 hours before check-in (and after another flight from where we live in the North of Scotland). There was a computer problem. I know that 300 English holiday makers move fast. There was no way we wouldn’t be at the back of the queue when the desk was finally shown on the screen. So I asked the airport information people to put us at the front of the queue. One glance over at my daughter, swaying and jerking away and she “looked” autistic. (And truth to tell, she was getting quite agitated). Off to the front of the queue we were taken, and no-one minded…It gave me courage to ask to be boarded first (it was free seating because of the computer breakdown- have you ever seen a boarding card written out by hand? it takes a l..o..n..g time).
On our return, there was also a delay (my travel company also went into administration but that’s another story). I was brave, and as well as arriving super early, put ourselves at the front of the queue, and people were nice. Yes, they were nice…(before, when she looked “normal”, people wouldn’t believe that she was autistic and wouldn’t give us any leeway- the curse of the hidden disability).
We were pre-boarded, and she could choose seats that suited her and again everyone was kind.
So yes, the perks of travelling with an ASD teenager…
And all because she looked wierd….
But I am not rushing to do it again in a hurry…
Posted in Uncategorized
