The mother of a teenage daughter with nonverbal autism opens up about her extreme sexual vulnerabilities
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By Meredith C.
Of all the things that are so f%#ked up about autism, how come we never hear about the one that’s the most f%#ked up of all?!
Pardon my language but I can’t help myself.
My 17 year-old daughter, I’ll call her Cathy, has autism. Not the “self-advocate” autism, or the “neurodiversity” autism, or the Daryl Hannah autism (whatever that was). Noooooooooooo. My Cathy has an autism that leaves her helpless, 100% defenseless.
Cathy is gorgeous, quite tall, with wavy bright blond hair and a face like a doll. If an actress were to play her in a movie I think Cameron Diaz would fit the part. But after that, no similarity. Cathy can’t talk, read, write, answer a phone, text, or understand a story. She can’t brush her hair or teeth, wipe herself after toileting, change her menstrual pad, or put on her clothes. If it’s freezing outside it wouldn’t occur to her to put on a coat. More than once she’s left the house totally naked.
I found NCSA because of this post on its website, A Sister’s Quest to End Sexual Abuse of the Severely Disabled. I was looking for information I could use to protect Cathy, because she is more vulnerable to sexual assault than almost anyone else in the world. Mothers like me suffer a sheer terror that rips our hearts into pieces.
If someone were to abduct her, she wouldn’t cry out, or fight back. She can’t say the word “No,” or other words. She would not be able to call us, or know to escape. If she were raped at a school or day program we wouldn’t know unless, like the girl in the NCSA blogpost, she came down with a sexually transmitted disease, or, God forbid, got pregnant. If we wanted to lodge a report or file a complaint with the police, she could not provide testimony or name the perpetrator, or be a witness on the stand.
At her recent IEP meeting I said my top priority was to define all the ways to make sure Cathy was never raped or otherwise assaulted, at school now or when she graduates. To me, everything else was secondary.
Well, that went nowhere. There were programs for intellectually disabled girls who could learn about sex, saying no, and reporting. And some about romantic relationships. But none of those apply to Cathy. It seems to me there are no real answers to ensure protection of our severely autistic females.
Forgive me for screaming bloody murder, but WHY ISN’T THIS ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT TOPICS IN AUTISM TODAY?
Realistically I think the only insurance against sexual abuse would be for me to keep her with me at all times. My husband and I are considering it (we are doing this now because of coronavirus), and fortunately I do not work. But Cathy also deserves a life without her mother (and I will pass away at some point anyway) — a SAFE life, free from any threat of sexual abuse. How are we going to make this happen for our severely autistic women? AND WHY ISN’T EVERYONE TALKING ABOUT THIS?! NO ONE HAS ANY ANSWERS!
Thank you NCSA for letting me share, and scream.
Meredith C is the pseudonym for a mother who lives in the Pacific Northwest. She and her husband have one child, a daughter with severe autism.
Disclaimer: Blogposts on the NCSA blog represent the opinions of the individual authors and not necessarily the views or positions of the NCSA or its board of directors.
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