How To Talk to a Friend When You're Worried About Their Kid-- or Yours.

Over the last few months, a few friends have approached me.  Each had a child whose development they were concerned about, but didn’t know how to broach the subject with the child’s parents.  What if they were offended? What if they didn’t realize anything was amiss?  What if nothing really was amiss?  These friends deeply cared for the children they spoke of—that much was apparent.  Here’s what I told them:

1. Prioritize your relationship with parent and child over your fears, worries, and concerns. 
If you’re the right person to speak into their lives, an opportunity will come.  Timing is everything.  Parents need time to come to their own conclusions, face their own realities, and approach you when they’re ready.  More than early intervention, therapy or an IEP, kids and their parents need a village – a group of people who will love and support them unconditionally.  We knew Marshall was who he is long before we ever spoke of it with our friends.  I confided in a few and kept it close to my chest around others while we sorted things out.  Love your friend, care for them, stay close to them—but consider that maybe they are aware that their child is different, and they’re working through it behind closed doors.

2. Pray for an opportunity—and provide one. 
When was the last time you and your friend were in a quiet setting, without others around?  When was the last time they truly had freedom to speak or share any fears they might have?  When was the last time you asked truly open-ended questions, beyond “how are you?”  When we reflect on the time we spend with others, it can be staggering how much of it is consumed by an activity (movie, concert, shopping) or additional people around (church, a coffee shop, a play date, a playground.)  If I truly want to talk to a friend and allow space and time for a real conversation, it has to be intentional.  Consider a setting that would allow your friend to be comfortable and free to talk about something that will likely bring them to tears—a setting without major time constraints or distractions.  A setting where phones are silenced and set aside. When I first confided to my friend Sarah that I thought Marshall might be on the spectrum, we were on a walk, something we did together consistently.  This offered a recurring chance for me to spill my guts bit by bit, as I was ready—I knew another walk with her was never more than a few days away. 

3. Listen to understand.  
Pray for the patience to truly listen to all that your friend may be going through.  They may be raw, emotional, erratic.  Most likely, they’re not looking for you to fix things—they’re looking for you to join them where they are and take the next steps with them.  Things that may seem like a quick fix to you may be much bigger than that.  Do your best to listen and ask clarifying questions—your friend needs to know that you love them and their child.  They need you to reassure them—remind them that this not their fault.  Truly hear them out before offering any advice.  In fact, consider not offering any at all, unless they ask.  If the door has been opened, your opportunities for advice will continue as you walk this journey together.  Be sure to follow up consistently and ask specific questions about how things are going for them and their child – on the phone or in person, in a safe space.

4. Connect them with a resource if you know of one. 
Do your homework if you can.  Are there local resources you’re aware of through friends or your school district?  Are there speech, occupational, or physical therapists others speak highly of that you could recommend?  Do you have a friend raising a child with special needs who could be a support for this person?  I’m always happy to help guide anyone as best I can—send me a message or email! Marshall’s village (and mine) has been irreplaceable on this journey—and we gain members every year.  Most notably, my friends from school with a background in special ed were game changers, as was Marshall’s occupational therapist.  However, not all the crucial members of our village carry a title. Many of them have only one prerequisite—their deep love for Marshall (and us.)

If you’ve read this far, I’d say you’re the right person for the job—you must really love your friend!  Take some time to think it over, pray it over, and find an opportunity to ask your friend how they’re doing.  You might be surprised at what surfaces in the right setting. 

But what if you’re the one who’s worried about your kid, and it seems that no one else is? If you’re reading this and you’re the one who feels isolated, alone, and worried about your own child, here’s my advice to you:

1. Find a safe person.
There could be someone reading this post right now, thinking of you.  Wanting to connect with you, but not knowing how.  Ask yourself—who can I talk to openly? Who truly listens?  Initiate some time with them, one on one, and express your concerns.  They may not have the answers, but they may be willing to walk this journey with you.

2. Ask lots of questions.
Marshall’s pediatrician wasn’t worried about autism.  We were.  Marshall’s early intervention caseworkers weren’t worried about autism.  We were.  You know your kid best—strengths, weaknesses, things that just seem a little “off.” Write it all down.  Categorize it as best you can.  Schedule an appointment with your pediatrician or find a local therapist—speech, occupational, or physical—and set up a consultation. Find the person who will listen to your questions and answer them, or send you in the right direction.

3. Trust your gut.
It’s a sentence worth repeating: you know your kid best.  If something seems off, it probably is.  If you’re not ready to deal with it just yet, that’s okay.  Give yourself time, space, and plenty of grace—and a deadline to talk to someone about it.  I knew Marshall was on the spectrum when he was 8 months old.  He wasn’t diagnosed until he was almost 3.  The journey may be slow and windy, or swift and informative—you are the navigator, and you call the shots.  Do what’s best for your kid.  Take things one step at a time.

Wherever you find yourself in the midst of all of this, please know that you are not alone.  Across time and space there are friends and parents everywhere struggling with the same questions you’re wrestling with right now.   Whether you’re a parent, a friend, or a family member, supporting a child who doesn’t fit the mold is tricky.  It’s messy.  And it’s not meant for you to navigate alone.