Summer Solstice

Harbor Island, Bahamas

The end of daylight is night,

And night gives birth to brilliant light.

Just as day turns into night and back again,

So too does life rise and fall -

Isn't that the rhythm of all things?

A bottleneck is where breakthrough begins.

What dips becomes the path upward.

Today, on the summer solstice of 2025 - the longest day of light - Starry Bridge opens its doors to the world. As I arrive at this moment, I find myself reflecting on how this space came to be.

When we first noticed something was different with our daughter, we could have waited. Many people reassured us she might grow out of it. But I felt that even if there was just a 1 % chance she was on the spectrum, I was ready to give 110% - to make sure she got the support she needed - so I wouldn’t look back wishing I could have done more. That decision, to lean in into the unknown - changed the course of everything.

But as the journey unfolded, I began to learn something deeper: acceptance. Accept our children as who they are, not as we wish. It’s not giving up, but moving forward with more intention and clarity.

In life, we often hear judgments about personalities. Sensitivity is dismissed as “too much,” yet it’s also the gift that lets someone hear petals falling or see rainbows in morning dew. Deep empathy may be labeled “emotional,” but isn’t it also a superpower - one that feels beauty more intensely? What we call flaws often depends on perspective, and the labels we choose to use.

Isn’t it the same for children on the spectrum? Social challenges and differences in processing are often labeled as “deficits” by the outside world. But viewed from another angle, they may be signs of depth, focus and brilliance.

If you look closely, you’ll see the pure glow in their eyes - untouched by convention. You’ll see how their focus holds an unwavering persistence. When we loosen our grip on judgment and soften into presence, we begin to see that what we call “different” often holds the rarest kind of treasure.

A willow branch may flutter wildly in spring - but who’s to say it isn’t dancing freely in the wind?

Let’s stop trying to “fix” or “normalize” our children. Let’s walk beside them, and a heart open to wonder, rediscover the beauty of their unique existence.

As parents, we also get to accept ourselves.

Not just as roles - “mother,” “immigrant,” “professional”, “caregiver” - but as whole, feeling human beings.

We’re allowed to be tired. We’re allowed to be uncertain. We’re allowed to choose a different storyline than the one we were handed, and choose another way forward.

Starry Bridge was created as that kind of space. A place where you can find strength as an autism parent.

If this space brings even a few moments of calm, connection, or relief - then the act of building it has already done its work.

On this summer solstice, we grow with the warmth of midsummer - trusting that all we hope for will one day bloom.

May you meet something beautiful on this longest day of light - and may its brightness stay with you.