This is probably more about being a parent than being autistic, but today I found myself replaying all the mistakes I made raising my daughter.

Looking back with the knowledge I have now, those mistakes seem to glow bright fuchsia in my memories, and they make me incredibly sad.

I used to hear my mom say she wished she could do it all over again knowing what she knows now, and for the first time in my life, I truly understand what she meant.

I remind myself that I did the best I could with what I knew at the time, but some days that doesn’t feel like enough to find peace.

Maybe that’s just part of being a parent—always wondering if love was enough.