Tsara Shelton's Blog, page 11

Autism Answer: When My Son Told Me He Was Gay

I wrote the following piece for SexualDiversity.orgBack in 2014 my son, who was still in high school at the time, took a deep breath and nervously told his friends he was gay. Well, nervously posted it on Facebook. His plan, as he explained it to me later, was to post it and gauge reactions, ready to say he had been hacked and it wasn’t true if he didn’t feel he could face the reaction. 
When he told me about it I was impressed, surprised, and uncomfortable about the need for him to “dip his toe in the water” as he put it, instead of just be who he is knowing that who he is was perfectly fine. 
But also I was confused about something.

"Why didn't you tell us first?" I wondered out loud. “We’re your family, I’m surprised you didn’t tell us first that you’re gay.”

"Oh, mom," he laughed, "I don't have to come out to you guys! You love me no matter what. It's not something I felt like I'd have to sit you down and tell you. I knew my friends would have to process it, and that some of them wouldn't be okay with it. I never worry about that with my family!"

Well. Huh. That's a pretty awesome reason!
But, and here I would like to stop writing and leave it at we are all an awesome family. 
But –
I did not behave awesome. I behaved okay.
At first, I just accepted it out loud while internally questioning.
Is he really gay? Or perhaps he is bi-sexual, clearly he has feelings for some of the boys, I’ve seen that, but he’s had so many girlfriends. My goodness, he’s had at least one girlfriend on the go since he was in kindergarten! And his freshman year in high school he had two. (He was not two timing, they were all in one threesome relationship.) 
Then I started asking him. “Are you sure you’re gay?” 
“Yes.” He’d say, easily. 
“But all those girlfriends! Did something happen? Did it change, or are you maybe bisexual? Do you think it’s a phase?”
I don’t know why I felt the need to ask these questions in the way I asked them. I know part of me was worried that he’d paint himself into a corner by announcing “I am this” which is something I keep an eye on for myself and all my children, but there was clearly more to it. I was worried about him being gay in small-town Texas. But I could have had these thoughts and concerns without questioning him. I could still ask questions, those are wonderful! But I wish I hadn’t questioned him.
According to him he’s always known he was gay but tried not to be. He tried to like his girlfriends, girls who chose him and insisted he go out with them, because he didn’t think it was good to be gay. Around him he didn’t see gay couples, none were in his favorite movies, his friends and brothers used the term as a punchline. So, sad and simply put, he tried not to be.
But he is gay.
And it is okay, it is fine, it is not at all something he should have to “come out” and say.
I was okay when he told me, but I was not awesome.
I hope others will be better than me.
I hope others will be awesome. 
Hugs, smiles, and love!!Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 
My son, Shay.

Autism Answer: Mental Health During this Pandemic – Three Indoor Tips for Growing Healthy from Inside to Out

May is Mental Health Awareness month. I encourage everyone to seek information that can stymie stigma and encourage personal mental health, always. But during an “awareness” month there tends to be a bit more, well, awareness! Hence May offers a timely opportunity and easier access to information.

I am not a mental health expert, but my mom (Dr. LynetteLouise, aka The Brain Broad) is. 

Firstly, I encourage you to read her books, watch her videos, listen to her music, and explore her articles, particularly if you or someone in your family has special needs or a disability. 

Secondly, though I am not an expert I am both a human during a challenging time, and a sister to people with autism and other mental health challenges. So though I am not qualified to counsel I do have pertinent experiences and insights to offer. And as a human during this challenging time and as a sister to people with mental health challenges I am compelled to share my tips in the hopes that it will help you, which in turn will help me and my family. After all, we all live together in this same world. Even when we see it and experience it so very differently.

I confess, I love chatting about tricks for personal mental health and happiness. I could (and will, given a chance!) discuss with you for hours various thoughts and habits and stories that shine new light, offer new perspectives, and plant nourishing healthy beliefs. But we are not together and cannot discuss.

So, here are three tips I can share easily. Though I do wish you were here to chat about it with me! We could discuss why I believe helping ourselves grow healthy on the inside will help our world when we go back to the outside. Anyway, three tips: 

1)   Bingeing on shows, books, songs: Right off the bat, I’m going to cheat. My mom wrote a brilliant and influential article published on BrainSpeak.com titled: Bingeing For Self-Improvement – I do hope you read it. In the article, she uses her expertise as an international expert as well as a mom. As her daughter, I grew up in a home that intuitively took seriously the art and stories we put in our brains. We chose our movies, shows, books, songs, and images with purpose and self-reflection. In such a diverse home as ours (my mom had eight kids; six were adopted, five had various cognitive challenges, four were on the autism spectrum, and all of us had unique personalities) it quickly became clear what was/is healthy for the brain of one person was not necessarily healthy for the brain of another. And, always, the individual doing the watching/listening has a responsibility to notice and choose how they receive what they put in and what they will allow. CONCLUSION: Choose what you watch, read, listen to, binge on always with purpose and self-reflection. But particularly now, as anxiety is prevalent. Although anxiety is not your friend you can use it in a healthy way. With worries top of mind, notice them. Explore them. Be purposeful and careful, do not wrap up and hide away because of them but, instead, see what it is they are telling you about you. Then watch, read, or listen to something that takes you in a healthy direction. You don’t want to seek validation for your anxiety (don’t worry, you’ll find it anyway) but rather actions you can take to confront it, or even simply let it go.


2)     Intimacy with yourself. This is an excellent time to explore your own intimate self. Yes, I am hinting at sexuality and masturbation, but it can and should be part of a more all-encompassing intimacy. May is also national masturbation month. Orgasms are a healthy cost-free way of relieving stress, but sex can also be fraught with mental health barricades. Traumas, disabilities, worries, body image issues, there are so many vulnerabilities that we can’t ignore during sexual encounters. If you are at home with a partner, or alone, these issues can be explored. Be intimate, be purposeful, be inclusive, be curious, be gentle and patient. If you are only alone, use this time to truly know what pleasures you and why. Pay attention to your fantasies – do not judge them! – but certainly, ask yourself questions about them. Pay attention to what types of touch you like and don’t like. Wonder why. Practice asking for it. If you are with a partner, this can be done together I hope. Some of us, sadly, are alone with a cruel or abusive partner. (RAINN and other organizations are set up to offer help in these cases.) But even more of us that are alone with a partner could really spark healthy and important conversations and connections with careful considerate and intimate explorations. CONCLUSION: Touch yourself, touch your partner, and have the vulnerable naked conversations about sex and pleasure that perhaps you have avoided or never even considered. And if you are comfortable and able, share what you are learning with others. (The site SexualDiversity.org would love your stories!) People with disabilities are dangerously underrepresented in sexual literature and learnings, so I doubly encourage you to be brave and share. If you can. Firstly, work on yourself. ;D

3)      Trauma and Healing – this pandemic is causing trauma for many. And for those of us who are already trauma survivors it can be triggering as well. Also, many of our go-to healing activities have been taken off the table as options. For example, I go dancing. One of the things I do when I need to center and find my inner healthy connected-to-the-universe and valuable self, is go dancing. But all the clubs and dive bars are closed, rightfully so. Dancing at home is lovely and helps, but I don’t have a sound system that pulses the music into me the way it does at a bar. What I’ve done is switch it up a bit. I still use music and dancing, but instead of crawling inside the music and setting my body free, I'm surrounding myself with songs that bring me back in time and I am reliving my memories with purpose. Coloring them in with intention and love of self. This has helped me. I know you can do something similar. Reaching out to our support networks and healing activities may look different for now, but it is worth doing. Finding the different that helps you. Help your happiness and healing by finding new ways to balance your brain; using old tools or discovering completely untried ones. Now is a wonderful time to try things you put on a back burner for later, or even things you thought were silly. Perhaps you can make them not silly. Do them in a way that works for you. Yoga, guided meditation, dancing, singing, building, climbing trees. CONCLUSION: We can take care of our own mental health during this particularly challenging time even if our common helpers are not available to us or are only available in a different way. We also can still reach out to our networks of support. Our networks are also in need of support, and offering it is also healthy. Whether we offer it in the form of asking for them to be there for us, or in the form of being there for them, it is still a mutually beneficial relationship. Even if it must be remote, we can still be connected. 

These three tips are helping me during this strange time in our world. As I said, I am not an expert in mental health. At least, not in your mental health. But I am rather good at knowing how to help me and my family.

And since we are all one family right now, navigating this world at a unique and challenging time, I can’t help but want to share with you and to presume one or two things I have to offer will be helpful.

If we share our ideas and tips, we can build ourselves healthy from the inside out so that when we do go back more convincingly into the outside world, we can step out of our inside with a stronger mindset and healthy ideas.

Hugs, smiles, and love!!Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: Were We Supposed To? A Story of Rye's Rape

April is both Autism Awareness Month & Sexual Assault Awareness Month - As you know my mom,  Dr. Lynette Louise (aka "The Brain Broad") is an expert in both, and she even has a birthday on World Autism Awareness Day (April 2), but what you probably do not know is that my youngest brother, Rye, is also an expert (albeit, a different kind) in both, and he too has a birthday in April.
Today, April 27th, is Rye's birthday. Happy birthday, little brother!! He will be coming over in the afternoon to use my wifi and to pig out on pie with whipped cream. I'm looking forward to it!
In the meantime, here is an important true story that incorporates both sexual assault awareness and autism awareness. It is not an easy story to read and was far more challenging to live through. But, we did. Because I believe, we are supposed to.
Were We Supposed To?A Story of Rye's Rape The camera was on me, the officer was waiting for my reply, I was holding back tears wanting oh so bad to be strong for my brother. This was his hurt, his horrible horrible hurt, the crime committed to him, his body and safety, but in that moment I just couldn’t hold back the pain of my own guilt.


“He wanted to stay at our house, he asked if he could sleep on the couch,” the tears are escaping now, but only such a small percentage, I am able to hold back the neverending flood that pulses behind my eyes and throbs in my head. “I told him to go home, he has his own apartment, I made up something about not wanting to start a habit of him sleeping here at our mom’s house, but the truth is I just didn’t feel like hanging out with him anymore. And then,” I look at the officer, he too wearing a touch of hurt and guilt, and say it: “And then he went home and got raped.”
# # #

It was late but I was still awake. The phone rang and I saw on the caller ID that it was coming from the gas station in town. Rye. 
I considered ignoring it, but that might give him reason to have a temper tantrum in the store which might lead to him not being allowed back there for a while, which would lead to me having to help him more often.

So, I answered.

“Uh, hi,” he stammered, “I was raped. I escaped out the window, he might still be at my apartment.”

Blood left me so fast I nearly passed out. Had I heard him right? “Wait, what Rye? What?”

“Some guy came in my apartment and raped me. He made me go in the shower after so I snuck out the back window and came here to call you, I’m only wearing shorts. I can’t stay.”

“Oh, my god! Rye, really? Oh my god. Okay, are you okay? Did you call the police?” I was trembling now. 

“No. Should I? Am I supposed to?” Rye asked, unsure. He sounded out of breath and scared. 

Am I supposed to? 

“Actually, Rye, let me call my husband and have him pick you up. I’ll call the police. We’ll go from there. Just wait at the gas station. Hold on, the guy that raped you might still be at your house?”

“I don’t know,” Rye admitted, “I just snuck out the back but I think I heard him go out the front door.”

“Okay, you wait there if they’ll let you. Milton will be there soon and I’m going to call the police now. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

We hung up and I called my hubby. We were happily married but living in separate homes. 

“Ya.” He answered.

“Rye was raped in his apartment and is waiting for you at the gas station. Can you go get him? I’ll call the police.” 

I heard my hubby jolt. “Uh, okay. I’ll call you when I’m with him.”

I called the police. A woman answered.

“What’s your emergency?”

“Yes, hi. My brother lives in Teague and someone just broke into his apartment and raped him.”

“What?” she asked.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Someone just raped him and he escaped out his back window. My husband is picking him up from the gas station and will be with him. Can someone go there and, I don’t know, take a report?”

“Yes, we’ll send an officer. What is his address?”

Do I give Rye’s apartment address? Do I send Rye and my hubby back to his place to meet the officer, back where the trauma literally just occurred? But where they may have a better shot of catching the rapist? 

Am I supposed to? 

I give her my brother’s address and call my hubby. 

“How is Rye?”

“He’s here with me. The front door is open, I think the person ran off and left the door open.”

“Can you please stay there with him until the officer arrives? Thank you, and can I talk to Rye?”


So I talked with my brother while he waited to tell the story to the police. I apologized for sending him home, he said it was okay, I apologized that I didn’t have enough gas or gas money to come see him, he said it was okay. He told me what happened and I cried.

A man had knocked on his door, late but not impossibly late. It was only a little after ten PM. Rye opened the door a crack, sort of recognized the guy from here and there, and told him he didn’t have time right now. The guy said something about wanting to see or buy CDs or movies or something, Rye talked for a bit, opened the door wider, and the man pushed his way in, said he had a gun, made Rye lie on his stomach on the bed. Rye couldn’t see a gun but there was something in the man’s pocket,  he couldn’t see the man now, but heard him get a condom. The man raped Rye, my baby brother, who was oh so scared and it hurt, and then told him to shut up and get in the shower. Rye got in the shower and soon, too scared to stay in his apartment, left the shower running and snuck out the back window. 

Then, he phoned his sister. A sister who had told him to go home because she didn’t feel like hanging out with him.

Was I supposed to let him stay that night?

Rye is not diagnosable as autistic anymore, my mom and he have done so much work on his social skills, behaviors, and brain change that he is not considered on the autism spectrum anymore. But he still is a strange, quirky guy. He still struggles with a lower than average IQ, and issues from before my mom adopted him (Fetal Alcohol Syndrom, for example.) He is a guy easily (and often) taken advantage of, largely because he does not want to be cruel and judgmental in the ways so many have been to him. So he is welcoming to strangers at ten o’clock at night.

The police officer took Rye’s statement, and then called me.

“We will take him to Waco for an examination, do you want to come?”

“I want to,” I admitted, “but I don’t have enough gas money.” 

I hoped the officer would offer to pick me up, at which point I would ask my hubby to stay with our sleeping children, but he did not.

“Okay, I’ll have Rye call you when it is all done and I have him back here in Teague.”

I thanked him, I told Rye I love him, I hung up and called mom.
# # #

The police officer nodded in understanding. I looked at him, sitting slightly behind and to the right, my right, of the camera.

“I saw that guy, just some guy, knock on Rye’s door. I was patrolling the block. But I didn’t recognize him. I don’t know who he is.” The officer looked young and a little shaken, but he was mostly professional. I don’t know if he was trying to justify himself to me or give me a story of understanding, so I would not be entirely alone in my guilt. Or maybe he was just talking, thinking out loud, remembering that night.

So many little things that could have changed the story. Why hadn’t I let Rye stay? Why hadn’t we been better at teaching him it’s okay to say no, it isn’t judgmental to say no? Why hadn’t the police officer taken more notice of a man at Rye’s door late at night if he was on patrol?

Was he supposed to?
# # #

I spent the night after Rye’s rape sleeping on Rye’s couch. Rye and I agreed that he wanted to get comfortable in his apartment and so we worked on a plan. I stayed there, visited more often, and remained particularly available to him. He agreed to keep his door locked and just pretend he isn’t home if someone knocks, he listened when I explained why that’s not mean or judgmental, and he has since then done his best to always have a phone so he can call me or our mom in an emergency. He can call the police. 

He still lives in that apartment and he likes his life.

Today is his birthday. 

He is 35. 

Rye comes to visit me most days and we enjoy each other’s company. I help him often with things online, and he helps me sometimes by lending me his car. We are a good team.

And when I visit him he is generally ready for me to leave after about twenty minutes. When he visits me, it’s about the same. 

He goes to his home and I go to mine.

We are a team, but the trauma of his rape did not leave him – or me – dependent or desperate. We have learned ways to stay safer and grown smarter, but we have not given in or given up.

Were we supposed to?# # #
Me and Rye at my house

Autism Answer: Gatherings and Inclusion In The Wake of COVID-19 (Dallas Pride Festival Date Change)

This article originally appeared at SexualDiversity.org

Gatherings have long played an important role for people in society. 
Yet, for some, they are more urgent and necessary than others. 
For many people in the LGBTQ community, a Pride Festival or parade, a drag show, or other similar events are the first or only place they feel accepted and included.  Declyn being crowned Miss. Homegirl 2017 as Pa'Jama
I live in a small town not too far from Dallas, TX. My youngest son and I planned on attending the Dallas Pride Festival (perhaps volunteering as well) this year, for our first time. 
However, as with most events in the wake of COVID-19, for the health of our world the date has been rescheduled. Now, I personally approve of and appreciate this. However, I also wonder if the new date (July 25, 2020) will remain safe. And even so, what sorts of changes will be made to how we celebrate as a group.
And I confess, I do hope we make some long-lasting changes. 
It has long seemed unfortunate to me that we are aware of our contamination of each other yet we do little to make changes. We’re made to feel weak if we do not go to work sick, and we’re unlikely to get paid. We apologize when we ask to not shake hands, we make fun of folks who are overly cautious “germaphobes.” We spread disease and viruses comfortably, even proudly. 
I believe it is healthy to get sick. And so there is no part of me that hopes we change so much after this pandemic we are frightened to touch, to reach out, to gather together. 
But, we can’t unsee what we’ve seen. And we can’t unlearn what we’ve learned. 
Well we can. But we shouldn’t unlearn it. 
If you will humor me, please step a little further into the idea of how we contaminate each other. 
It is often considered weak to listen and care about the difficulties and systemic challenges in the lives of people other than us. We are encouraged to be empathetic to a point, but when that empathy threatens to change us, change our minds, we are too often seen as weak and naïve. Easily swayed. Not strong in our convictions. 
This is dangerous. And we infect and contaminate and make each other sick with this attitude. 
Admittedly, there is a balance to be had. There is truth in not wanting to be easily talked out of your values or beliefs. But we must be willing to change them as well. It is necessary for a healthy society to continually adjust and find balance. Balance is something we continuously do, though sometimes it is clearer than other times when our balance is off. However, it is always something we are doing and should pay attention to. 
For many of us, gatherings and events, such as Pride Festivals, are nearly necessary for our mental health and happiness. But so is learning from experience (such as COVID) to make adjustments for the sake of our holistic health. 
Declyn My son and I are looking forward to the Pride Festival in Dallas! And I expect it will not be like previous festivals, but will offer what previous festivals were there to celebrate: diversity, inclusion, and the LGBTQ culture. And that, my thoughtful reader, is our reason is for attending. 
Dallas Pride Festival in the Park – Saturday July 25, 2020 FAIR PARK
I encourage you to look up any new dates or plans for your local Pride Festivals and Events.

Autism Answer: The Brain Broad Talks about Lust - Helping Teenagers with Autism through Puberty and Beyond

The following article originally appeared on Disabled-World.com and SexualDiversity.org - both are excellent resources as well as fantastic places to submit your writing and releases. I added the "sister memory" part here for you, my personal blog readers. I know you kinda get me. :D






“I share this with you because I want you to understand the rest of the world doesn’t want to deal with this. So it’s up to caregivers, direct service providers, and parents. Come on, guys. Get comfortable.”
That is the line Dr. Lynette Louise, aka The Brain Broad, leaves us with in a recent video from her Autism ABCs series. It is in the video for the letter “L” which, she decides, stands for “Lust.” 
Dr. Lynette Louise is a renowned international brain change and behavior expert specializing in autism. And, importantly, she is also the single mother (in fact, she is my mother!) of eight now grown children. Six were adopted, and four landed on the autism spectrum. (Only one still retains the label.)
April is both Autism Awareness Month and Sexual Assault Awareness and Prevention Month. Because Dr. Lynette Louise is an expert in both, she always chooses to offer help and answers free during this time of the year. 
Considering global efforts to stay home or shelter in place, Lynette has been releasing one short video daily, in an Autism ABCs series to YouTube. Each day represented by a new letter in the English alphabet. 
“L” for lust is particularly timely. And incredibly valuable. 
“I like using the word lust in this category because most people don’t think of someone with autism, especially someone in a lower functioning situation, they don’t think of it so much as a sexual drive as a puberty problem,” she tells us. “But testosterone in boys, and in girls – when a girl is reaching her time for ovulation she doesn’t just have estrogen and progesterone, she also gets testosterone to increase her sexual drive – so sexual drive is a big subject here.”
It is challenging for most parents to teach their children about sex, about consent, about appropriate behavior. But when the person you are teaching has autism, or is otherwise uniquely challenged to learn social skills, understand their body, and/or has sensory issues, it is far more difficult. 
“You’re going to have to help them,” Lynette tells us, upfront and strong but with understanding.
After all, she not only helped all of her own children learn to understand and appropriately explore their sexual drive, but she also travels helping families globally. (Season two of her international docu-series FIX IT IN FIVE is largely about helping a young man and his single mom during this phase of life.)
“If you think of it as a sexual drive, a lust – lust for life but also, lust for sex - then maybe you can separate it out for them. Here’s an example. I say, ‘Yes, that’s a pillow. That feels great when you push your body against it. We all do it, though we do it differently. And we do it privately.’ And before I worry about the rest, I teach private time."
Lynette’s candor is refreshing, but also necessary. An example for those of us who will need to be candid as we teach this. 
Not only are disabled and cognitively challenged people at greater risk of being inappropriate sexually, which leads to misunderstanding and uncomfortable cruelties, but they are also at greater risk of being sexually abused. Particularly as they misunderstand and act out and seek sensory gratification during puberty.

Sister Memory: When a few of my brothers were going through puberty, and we were living on the road homeschooling in an RV as well as various resorts (yes, my life is awesome, thank you for noticing!) we were often squished into compact sleeping quarters. This is not conducive to an easy exploration of sex during puberty, even for the more neuro-typical among us. And for my brothers, well, it was equally challenging if not a bit stranger. Luckily, my mom had exampled and taught a comfortable, kind, strong style regarding this topic. She showed us how to have these important conversations. I won't pretend I was always actually comfortable (c'mon, I was saying things like, "You can't hump my back when we sleep but I will show you a place you can go for privacy because the desire you're having is natural," and, "it is not okay to take a picture of your erect penis and show it to people, although I see you are proud of it. Let me give you ideas for how you can be proud of your penis without hurting others or getting yourself in trouble." so, ya, I was a little awkward) but I was always certain that freaking out or being angry in my discomfort would not only hurt them but make all of our lives more challenging in the long run.  

Taking on the role of teaching your child or charge about what is happening to their body, how to be private as they explore their lust, and who they can safely communicate questions or curiosities with, is not only going to help them grow a healthy understanding of themselves and sex, but also helps them stay safe. They are more likely to avoid abuse or tell you when something is happening to them. 
“Think back,” Lynette encourages us toward the end of the video. “Puberty’s rough. Puberty with no assistance, no understanding of what to do with this feeling, and where it’s okay and where it isn’t okay, and who you can ask and who you can’t ask; puberty without that guidance is a train wreck. It’s a problem that’s going to grow so big you’ll end up maybe putting your child in a group home. When all you had to do is get comfortable with saying, ‘Hey, maybe he’s acting the way he’s acting because he’s horny.’ Or ‘Possibly, she’s acting the way she’s acting because she wants to connect with somebody. And connect her genitals.’ This is real. This is your job as parents and caregivers.”
Please watch this valuable video. And, more than that, please share it with others. 
The truth is, this wouldn’t be nearly as hard for us to do and be comfortable with if our communities, our neighborhoods, and our societies were sufficiently educated and properly involved. 
Autism ABCs with Dr. Lynette Louise: “L” is for Lust # # #
A few of us at the resort

Short Story: Dirty old Town (for Sexual Assault Awareness & Prevention Month)

April is Sexual Assault Awareness and Prevention Month. There are many ways in which I share my thoughts, beliefs, worries, memories, and hopes regarding this topic. But I find nothing quite shifts my thinking and triggers understanding in me like a story does. 

Hence, I am sharing this short story (fiction) with you. This story was inspired by a flash fiction prompt from Freewrite: You give your pet alcohol which causes them to break their one unbreakable rule: Never Talk To Your Owner 

Oh, also, here is a link to a video of mine, Molestation: A (Common) Story. The true memory that this fiction story grew out of is discussed in that video. I also offer a few tips and thoughts. 

Lastly, not only are many people feeling re-traumatized in this time of COVID-19 due to general anxiety, lack of control, and an uncertain future that will certainly be different, many people are also forced to shelter in place with their abuser. I encourage anyone wanting to know more about, or seeking help from, sexual assault, to contact RAINN(Rape Abuse Incest National Network), Dr. Lynette Louise (The Brain Broad), or another organization, person, or media that you feel comfortable with. By all means, feel free to contact me. I don't know if I can help but I know I care.
_______________






Dirty Old Town

" Dirty old town, dirty old town ," I sang drunkenly, motioning to the dirty old town that was my basement bedroom.
I recognized the grey body that sauntered out from her cozy nest in my pile of clothes on the floor (dirty? clean? Dunno, who cares?) and headed to the food and water bowls I had placed on the floor under my window. A window up high that looked onto grass and, often, the naked feet of my family. Shoes were for wealthier folk.
"Hey, psst. Misty! Wanna drink?" I splashed a little of my Vodka, stolen from a friend's pantry, into her bowl. "You were there when it happened. I bet you need it like I do."
Misty stared at me, a little longer than I had anticipated and it brought the memory flooding uncomfortably back. Quickly, I looked away and took another burning swig.
Turning her green eyes and white whiskers away from me, Misty lapped up the alcohol.
I was supposed to be at school but the thought of hating myself and my cowardly choices in public, where I knew from experience someone would either reach out to help or hurt me, was too much.
I had instead snuck into the house to hide and get drunk.
"Pretty great, right?" I asked my cat. "It doesn't make the things go away, but you can think about them and do what you want and then blame the booze!"
Misty turned, drunkenly it seemed to me - but then, I was drunk - and replied, “Yes. Thank you."
I was dumbfounded. "Wait. What?"
"Yes," she replied. "I'm breaking rules, I'm feeling bad-ass, and I can blame the booze."
Her voice was soft and clear; unfamiliar. I tried to believe I was imagining it, you know? Talking to myself through her. Like the imaginary friends in those VALUE SERIES books my little sister and I loved so much.
But it was Misty talking to me. And I had a bone to pick with her.
"Oh, I see. You feel bad-ass NOW?" I asked, putting the half-full (half-empty) bottle on my floor and sitting on the mattress beside it. "What about the other night? Where was your bad ass then?" The alcohol had helped me have courage to ask and bring it up, but not enough to look right at her.
She sauntered, in a slightly winding way, in my direction and sat on the floor by the bottle.
"I wanted to scratch his eyes out," she said, braver than me, looking up at me. "I also wanted to leave the room," she admitted, looking down.
"Me, too." I said with a tight laugh.
"Look," she purred as she risked my anger and climbed onto my lap. "I was scared and uncertain of what I should do. I thought of scratching him but he's strong. He could - burp - hurt me and then you."
"My God, Misty! He WAS hurting me!"
I pushed her away and laid down. Then I quickly jumped off the mattress as the memory of my dad crawling in beside me tried to crawl in beside me.
"I know, I know," she meowed. Again, she moved to the bowl and lapped more booze.
"I didn't leave," she whispered.
"Ya."
I pulled out the chair of my desk, the one real piece of furniture in my room, and sat.
"We stayed," I admitted.
"I came with you to the bathroom when he was gone. Stayed at your side while you washed your face. Spent that night and every night since at your side."
Misty sounded desperate for my approval or forgiveness or something and I hated it. I wanted her to tell me I was okay, to forgive or approve of me.
"Whoop de do! I clean your poop!"
"Well, now you just sound like a child."
"I AM A CHILD!" I screamed.
We looked at each other. She looked down at her beautiful grey paws and I sobbed.
Misty crawled tentatively onto my lap and I lifted her into my arms. Together we curled up in the pile of clothes.
As my hand petted her back and her soft purrs petted my mood, I made a decision.
This problem was too big for me, a child.
But I also knew, because Misty had bravely (drunkenly) risked the rules and talked to me, that it was too big for everyone.
I would tell my mom about what happened and let her fumble. Ultimately, I would expect her help, but I would forgive the fumble.
Misty had given me courage, even that night. She had been a witness and stayed, I had felt afraid but not entirely alone.
She validated something in me.
"Misty," I whispered as I began to pass out.
She made no sound but I felt her lift her head.
I let go then. Passed out in my dirty old town with a plan to tidy up. 
_______________
 

Autism Answer: Asymptomatic Privilege

Walk in the shoes and listen to the truths of others.  

A straight able-bodied cognitively healthy white man walks around with privilege, in most societies. He doesn't always know or see it. Most often, he does not see it or believe it.

He could, of course. But it takes humility, imagination, and a listening ear. 

When people take the time to tell their stories, to show their symptoms, and to reveal the role you may have played in contaminating them - unknowingly - you can listen, turn off your desire to respond with explanations or stories of your own, and believe. 

You can consider the possibility that you are walking around with privilege that you cannot see or feel. Not because you are actually asymptomatic, but because you recognize any symptoms you're living with as something else. 

A person with privilege is not a person who has no challenges in their lives. It is not a person who does not have to overcome, work hard for what they want, face obstacles along the way. It is simply someone with less of those. Someone for whom most systems are built and, hence, most systems work specifically for. 

I get it. I wouldn't want to risk losing that either. I don't want to lose that. Until I see how many of my fellow humans are unfairly challenged. Until I see how much less I get out of a world that doesn't - without question or hesitation - change itself when we are asked to recognize who we are hurting or leaving behind. 

We are all living with varying degrees of privilege. And we are all exposing each other in varying degrees. 

When it comes to privilege, I think maybe some of us aren't as asymptomatic as we proclaim. But, rather, we are denying our symptoms or explaining them away with excuses and invented proof. 

As Dr. Lynette Louise said in a recent article: "If this period has taught us anything, it has taught us that we are globally intertwined. We contaminate each other. It is up to us to decide what we contaminate each other with."

Let's be purposeful, kind, inclusive, vulnerable, and brave.

Let's recognize our symptoms and take steps to make healthy changes. 

“You can’t walk gingerly. You have to step in and say I am going to love you robustly, and we are going to get to the end of this!”~Dr. Lynette Louise, aka The Brain Broad

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: World Autism Awareness Day with The Brain Broad - Bringing Us A Way To Learn & Connect With The World from Home

Quarantined and staying home, sheltering in place, not working or working with anxiety, the world is undoubtedly in a state of change. It is going to wake up different.

In the meantime, people like my mom, Dr. Lynette Louise (aka The Brain Broad), people who build their lives and livings out of helping others, are finding creative and powerful ways to reach out to their communities.

Today is World Autism Awareness Day. It is also my mom's birthday. And she has found a safe and wonderful way to celebrate it with you, me, and all our friends!

FIX IT IN FIVE with LYNETTE LOUISE aka THE BRAIN BROAD is her international docu-series, airing on The Autism Channel, highlighting and helping five different families, over the course of five days, in five different countries. Until now seasons one and two (Uganda and USA respectively) were only available to view for anyone with The Autism Channel or available to rent/own via Vimeo on Demand.

However, today she is releasing all five episodes of season one on YouTube. Fall in love with Milly, a single mom in Uganda, and her autistic daughter, Trisca! Get to know them, their unique challenges and brave willingness to learn on camera. Follow Lynette as she teaches and gives tools, learns and reaches out for support, nibbles on grasshoppers. 

Invite the family into your home as they have invited us into theirs. Let's connect and learn and love together in this way! Yes, we are connected to everyone in this world and sometimes it is dangerous. But most of the time, when done with intention and acceptance and understanding, it is life enhancing and beautiful.

A great gift to you this World Autism Awareness Day, and a great gift to The Brain Broad on her birthday, is taking advantage of her offer: Watch FIX IT IN FIVE with THE BRAIN BROAD. Share it with your family and friends and watch it together while separated. Contact each other to discuss your favorite moments and lessons, and continue on to the next episode.

The world is going to wake up different. We can wait and see in what ways, or we can choose to do our part to shape it inclusively and sustainably.

For my mom's birthday I hope you'll join us in doing the latter.

However you choose to spend your time, I'm sending you love and virtual hugs this World Autism Awareness Day!!!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!!! Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)
Here are the Playlists on her YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/user/lynettellouisel/playlists While you're there, be sure to check out the ABCs of autism playlist. So far we are up to the letter C and all three short videos are freaking FANTASTIC!!!!!  And here is Episode one from Uganda - FIX IT IN FIVE with THE BRAIN BROAD
  

My Body - Getting To Know You (aka What I'm Doing At Home)

Well now, things are interesting. (Dear reader, I do not know where you are in time, and I do know that things are always interesting, but this post is being written in March 2020 near the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, so keep that in mind as you read the type of interesting I am referring to and the type of response I'm choosing. Thanks, friend!)

Clearly, I've had all the common thoughts. What a perfect time to shift the world in sustainable ways! What a wonderful reason to consider how we care for each other and rethink our willingness to be inconvenienced! How excellent to connect with and get to really know our children and spouses! And I confess, my daily life is hardly disrupted by staying home. That's what I do. Write, read, dance, sit outside or inside, but all mostly at home. 

I was, however, chewing over a fantastic opportunity my sister had given me to work with her as a production coordinator. I've said yes to projects so far but promised to make a concrete decision on whether I would be her production coordinator and not just accept jobs convenient to me. So far I've always said yes, but just before COVID-19 decided to barricade business as usual, my sister was getting consistent offers that would have me rarely home and working often. Did my hubby and I want that? I promised to decide but was filled with anxiety about doing so.

Then this. Stay at home and shelter in place orders around the world. (Probably my fault. The Universe figured it would call my bluff by saying, "Oh, this is such an important decision and worth so much worry because why? The world will stop turning if you choose wrong? Well then, let me stop everything so you can take your time, lady." Well, in response, I have made decisions. So, ya. Sorry about that! Things should return to healthy, though hopefully not to their usual, soon.) 

Anyway, speaking of my sister, yesterday something happened with her that gave me another idea of what I should do with this time at home. Keep in mind, my home is an empty nest. It is me and my husband alone. Our youngest son visits from University - two hours away - sometimes, but with our other children and family members and grandchildren living in California, it is mostly just us. So when my sister thanked me in a text for making a dermatologist appointment for her that resulted in a suspected melanoma biopsy (my dad died from Melanoma and my entire family history is saturated with cancer) I had a thought. 

You see, we knew to make that appointment because we recognized a mole on her body misbehaving. The mole we were concerned about was on her stomach. Turned out, though, that it was a mole on her butt that was the true concern. 

Well now. We don't really spend much time looking at her butt, so we may never have noticed that! 

This isn't the first time I've thought about how unfamiliar I am with my own body. It's not even the first time I've thought about it in relation to the dangers of not knowing my body. But it is the first time I've thought about it while our town is under stay-at-home orders and the health of our community is at the forefront of the collective consciousness reminding us that our responsibility to health is in our hands. 

So, I am spending this time getting to know my body. It's freaking hot here in Texas, so rather than turn on the air conditioner constantly I am walking around in minimal clothes. No one will be coming over for a visit, I don't have to quickly get dressed and head out to run errands,  this is a good time for this. 

I'm not going to walk around minimally dressed all day every day. But I plan to do it as often as is comfortable (well, it's not comfortable because I'm unfamiliar with my body this way, but I am old enough and experienced enough to know it will become comfortable) and to stop shying away from looking. I have moles and stretchmarks and cellulite and, boy, do I have hairy legs! But I need to know this. I need to have answers when asked about my body as usual, and I am responsible for recognizing changes or possible problems.

So, ya. That's one of the fun and important things I am doing with this time. 

Feel free to join me! 

Once you get over the awkwardness of being exposed it actually feels quite surprising and free! My hair tickles my back often and it's nice. The air on my skin - even though it is only indoor air - is soft and unpredictable. Being physically distant from our fellow humans leaves time to experience the touch of air and water. Sure, air and water touched me before but I rarely took the time to experience it. How about you?

Regardless of whether or not you are interested in, able to, or even in need of, getting to know your body during this time, I hope you'll join me in doing something proactive regarding your health and the health of our world. I honestly believe it helps contain and even corral our anxieties during an uncertain time. 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Short Story - Inside

I wrote this piece last year in response to a photo prompt offered by Blank Spaces Magazine (be sure to check them out, fellow Canadians!). Though my submission was not a winner in the competition it was a winner for me. Writing it urged me past a place I was stuck staying in myself. 

It is certainly specific to me. Hence, I didn't plan to share it. I couldn't quite see how it would be of interest to you.

However, now that many of us in the world are practicing some sort of staying inside, it feels a little relevant. It is about being inside, all the way inside, and exploring. 

The image I'm using here is not the one that inspired the piece (I don't have permission to use that pic I imagine) but it is equally as much a self-portrait for me and it works. The only edit I had to make in order to use it was getting rid of the word "snow". 

Whether or not this piece has any relevance to you I hope you can feel the value of taking time inside. Of exploring all the styles of ourselves and the memories we make and the rooms we build that we sometimes refuse to leave, regardless of what other memories or rooms we could be taking time to create and experience. For me, a big one is simply my sons growing up. Seriously, I couldn't wait for it until it happened and then I didn't know how to live with it. Now, I do. 

And largely because I wrote this.

I hope you are equally able to take advantage of time inside.

Happy reading, friends!

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)




Inside
I was sent here – brought here? – as some form of punishment. Banished with the expectation of reflection. Yet, I can see no punishment in this.
The beauty is breathtaking! 
Literally, my breath stops often here and I feel it being accepted as a gift by This Place. I want to give it, too. Give my breath away. However, so far I haven’t. 
Just as my vision distorts and the pain that exists on my peripheries (quiet pain, a reminder of where I am not) begins to fade, I pull the breath back to me, back into me. 
This Place returns it gracefully. It seems to have no agenda.
And so I spend much of my time attempting to reflect. I would say I spend many days, but it is always some form of day and night here. The passing of time counted in how many things I’ve thought rather than calendar or clock. 
Yet the beauty and scope of This Place don’t encourage reflection from me so much as it demands exploration. Oh, not so much of the adventurous treasure hunting kind. More of a curious probing and bringing to life. Well, there is adventure and treasure in that. 
Inside I am warm and cozy. The coffee here is always perfectly percolated, even though I don’t remember ever perking it. In fact, that is something I’ve never been good at. Choosing instead to own drip coffee makers even though percolated coffee is my favorite. I’ve always been someone who will accept what is good rather than risk ruining it in hopes of making something better. 
I enter new rooms often. Coffee wrapped in my hands, tapping my ring on the mug – I’m wearing my ring here, I hear. 
I consider first the room’s décor. Aside from the kitchen and living room, which are styled in a way I imagine many would expect if walking up to this house, rustic with a fireplace and area rugs, other rooms are surprisingly decorated. 
I call the room at the top of the stairs Angry Teenager. Black, metal, dangerous, on edge. I go there for that feeling. Of course, as I explore, items reveal themselves that invite more complexity. Scribbled hopeful poetry, an Anne Murray CD, a picture book of only cute kittens. 
The Princess room – prettified with fairies and forest animals - rarely calls to me but I’ve visited more than once. Creating, as I do here, backstories for the room and its occupant. 
Now that I think about it, I guess it isn’t true that I’m not called to reflect here. It’s just that my reflections are always imbedded in my inventions. Backstories – invented or experienced - and explorations guide my reflections. 
Other than the kitchen-living room combo, it’s The Boy’s room I spend most of my time in. (If you know me you may have been surprised I didn’t say the library. Of which, in This Place, there are a few! But, no. You aren’t surprised. If you know me.)
The Boy’s room is also upstairs, on the opposite side of the living room. It has a window that reaches slightly away from the house and I know that’s dangerous, calling as it does for adventure that moves away. But I also approve, and think it’s just the right amount of danger and away.
Oh, how I love imagining and remembering stories in there!
The toys are familiar (Admittedly, everything in This Place is familiar. For a person who craves creating I’ve never been good at inventing things that are wildly different from what I live with or know well. Rearranging, working with what is familiar, that’s my forte.) and I play, while bringing The Boys to mind. 
Confession: This is a place where I am only alone, can only be alone, and I don’t mind that for now. Eventually I’ll want more. My own ideas are limited without diverse others to add and elucidate. Also, I do crave The Boys. I’m aware, in a reluctant way, my desire for them when they are no longer available is why I am here. 
Right now, though, I’m looking outside. Telling this while I stare out at the trees. (Of course, trees. A little on the nose! In many ways my imagination is truly lazy.) I feel the pain on the periphery and allow it, not for the first time, to wrap around me. 
It is only when the pain is pervasive that I can exist simultaneously in This Place and That Place. I’m able to feel and hear and sometimes even see everything and all of it at once. I can only hold onto this for a short moment, like trying to hold onto the splendor of having an epiphany. Or an orgasm. 
I think I must not let the pain get its hooks in me or I will be stolen from This Place entirely. I’m sure of it. 
I’m not sure I want that. 
But something is happening. As I’m doing this telling, feeling a desire to explain, have it make sense, I can’t ignore what I’ve been trying not to know. 
If I go back to That Place, I will be stolen from This Place. But also, This Place will be with me. 
True, I won’t likely be sent – brought? – here in this way. But This Place is me. A self-portrait. Nothing more or less magical than that. 
And That Place, where the pain waits, is where The Boys are. Well, no. That is the point. Where they no longer are. 
There, they are men. 
None live home with me, snuggling, fighting, playing, sniffling, reaching always ultimately in my direction and me in theirs. 
But in This Place I am only alone, can only be alone. (Let the breath go: stay!)
And the pain in That Place is where the people are. (Embrace the pain: return!)
I did this to myself. I banished myself. 
I brought myself here. 
I must choose. 
Myself.