Ethical dilemna

Do I have the right to mess with Sam’s brain in order to make him more social? 

Part of me says yes. Absolutely. Having more friends and becoming more comfortable in his own skin will make him happier. And as his mom it’s my job to do everything I can to help him become the best version of himself.

Watching Sam struggle in most of his social interactions has been the hardest part about being his mom. After school last year, he often asked to stay and play on the playground. It gave me a much needed chance to catch up with some mommy friends and he would ramble around next to – but not playing with - his classmates. The other boys would make up games, race or play with a ball while he struggled to climb the monkey bars or picked at paint on the swings. He didn’t seem sad but watching him hurt me. If I were him I would feel so alone and heavily self-conscious.

At this same playground, my friends would hold my hand and lovingly point out that he is not me; he is having his own version of fun. What if they were right and I need to back off? Maybe I don't get to choose whether or not to balance his brain.  Sam doesn’t mind being alone. He doesn’t want a lot of friends. He’s shy. And there’s nothing wrong with that. He’s not breaking any laws. He’s not hurting himself or anyone else. And how would the world go round if there weren’t different kids like him?

You’re wondering why I’m making myself crazy about this now. It probably would have been a good idea to think it all through before we embarked on this journey. It’s because he is on the verge of making a social leap.  I write, talk and obsess metamorphosis. Over coffee and sushi I proudly boast about how hard he’s working and the changes we’re starting to see. He’s on his way. He’s connecting. He’s waking up. 

All true. All sound good. All excite me. And I guess there’s no real way to determine if I have overstepped my maternal rights. All I can do is cheer him on, drive him back and forth to appointments and hope that as an adult he will never lay on the therapy couch crying over his evil controlling mom who pushed him to have more friends.