As long as I have been alive, there has always a stigma around being a so-called “mama’s boy.” But anyone who takes issue with someone like that never met me and my mother.
I’m Autistic and growing up, my mother was my advocate. I couldn’t interact with others at the time because I didn’t know how, and that wasn’t only true of peers. When I was four, I was violent, especially towards her. I was kicking and screaming all over the place, and she got me into therapy and on meds.
Those meds didn’t always work; there was abundant trial and error that resulted in my weight fluctuating and my mood being altered. But eventually, through much persistence, we found a combination of meds that worked, and our relationship has deepened over the years as I’ve matured into a more functional adult.
That said, we were always close, even during the especially hard years. My first day of kindergarten I cried most of the day because I wanted my mother there. Today, though I am much more independent, I still can’t imagine my life without her.
My mother has been through hell, with and without me. I have tremendous respect for her and for how she has worked through different issues, and she is the most important person in my life.
She fought for me when it seemed like no one else cared. She doesn’t know everything about me, but she has a perspective that no one else in my life has. My mother is my hero.
And that’s why I am a proud mama’s boy.