My Child Was Born With Intellectual Disabilities – But I Never Wished Him To Be Different After
When Tobi was little, I worried he’d never speak in full sentences or fit in with other kids. While others raced ahead, he moved at his own pace—quiet, gentle, and wonderfully different.
His first sentence was: “You smile better when sun is yellow.” Not perfect, but full of meaning. From then on, I stopped measuring him by what he couldn’t do and started seeing the magic in who he was.
School was hard. Kids didn’t always understand him. But he saw the world in ways they couldn’t—learning through animals, clouds, and kindness. At 12, he left me simple notes like “Don’t cry today.” Somehow, he always knew when I needed them.
In high school, he met Wren—another quiet soul. They connected over doodles and shared silence. One day, her mom wrote to me: “Your son helped my daughter smile again.” That moment told me everything I needed to know.
Tobi never won awards for grades, but he was honored for his kindness. He saw people as they were and made them feel safe. Now, at 22, he reads to kids, brings home “treasures” from walks, and wants to “practice being a man” while still having spaghetti nights with me.
He may not follow the usual path, but he teaches love, patience, and presence every day.
I used to wonder if he’d ever catch up. Now I wonder if we’ll ever catch up to him.
