Two years ago a very good teacher at my sons school flagged that they thought my child was on the spectrum. I was devastated. My little boy was fine. I thought they were mad /1

I cried when they told me. My boy was fine. But I had nothing to compare him to. It’s been just me and him /2

I argued he was so structured because I was, that his aptitude for numbers was from early teaching from myself. That his timekeeping was so strict because mine was, learned behaviour from me. /3

That his intense interest in subjects and need to know it all was a curious mind. /4

After two years, after watching him, after seeing with non-mum eyes I could see it too, what they could see. /5

Yesterday after all the assessments. I was given a diagnosis. From a very skilled team. My boy is Aspergers. /6

He’s been trying harder than everyone else to fit in socially for all this time (and pulling it off quite well because of his sunny disposition) /7

Yesterday I was happy and sad for him. Happy because now we can make plans for him to help him cope better, sad because he will now walk through a world that although more aware now will be that little bit harder for him. /8

My boy is nearly 9. My boy is the kindest child you could meet, he is smart and articulate. He is my world. /9

I feel so bad for all the times I have shouted at him. For all the times he has struggled with his “too big feelings” /10

Hopefully now I can support him better and school too. /11

I just had to get that off my chest. /12

I’ve always told him “normal is boring” because I’m hardly “normal” whatever that is. The specialists were awed at his ability to try to be the same. They said that was down to me that I had instilled confidence and self love in him. So I did something right /13