November 23, 2025

Weeks ago, before the passing of my aunt, my husband asked if we could have a spontaneous, two-day trip to a place we both love and know well- Epcot.

I’m not one to turn down an Epcot trip EVER, but in the moment I was flooded with thoughts such as:

It’s too expensive right now at the holidays…it’s irresponsible with our money…short trips are not the best value for our dollar…I hate asking the grandparents to keep the boys a couple of days in a row…work is just too busy.

However, I knew my current level of burnout well enough to know that I needed something to look forward to. A trip to Disney is really simple for us–we know the parks like the back of our hand, we know the airport and shuttle routines well–there’s just not a lot of acclimation needed. Give me my hotel key, and I’m off on the skyliner to Epcot. So, I agreed.

My aunt then became acutely ill and things were not looking good. She is the one I wrote about in my grief blog. I suddenly reconciled with the thought that I might be looking at sending my husband on this trip solo…which he absolutely would not mind.

Her funeral ultimately was held a week before the trip, so there was no cancellation needed, and I realized I needed the trip even more than I thought before.

For two days, I did not feel overwhelming sadness. For two days, I found that I could actually eat. I wasn’t too distracted or too sad to eat. I realized that the familiarity of Epcot and Disney in general was actually calming to me.

I see many of our autistic friends in the parks wearing headphones. It’s a loud, chaotic place. I also love these days that wearing big Bose headphones is so popular that our autistic friends no longer stand out for this need. Not that it matters–do what your body needs.

When I feel it’s too loud or too chattery, I put in my AirPods and turn on a podcast. I did not really need that this trip because I could get into conversation with my husband. My sensitivity to noise is tricky–I NEED background noise to function, but certain types of noises bother me more than others. Sitting in a coffee shop studying? No problem–LOVE IT. Studying at home with my boys shrieking? NOPE. Their shrieks are too high-pitched and make me physically hurt. So, I actually do well in the crowds at Disney–my body registers it as themed white noise.

I realized during these two days that the familiarity–that Disney white noise, the routine I know so well there, the predictability of the environment (families in matching shirts, people almost running to reach the front of the Guardians of the Galaxy anti room so they can get ahead of everyone in line for the ride, the gentle sway and sounds of the Skyliner) were what my body needed.

In these recent weeks of unpredictability…I needed something I could rely on.

Work will be a disaster tomorrow. The kids are already driving me crazy. There’s so much cat litter to scoop and sweep. There’s piles of laundry to put away. Ugh…I have to make lunch boxes. All of these things are going to be there whether I take a day or two off or not. Why…WHY do I try to talk myself out of two days of physical and mental comfort and regulation because of all of these daily tasks that exist no matter what I do? They’ll still be there. You know what won’t be there? My sanity.

Refill your cup. Fill it with whatever version of weird comfort you need. Don’t worry for a second that your self-care methods are silly, extravagant, or not deserved. You have one life to live. And you never know when you will take your last breath.

Do the stupid thing that brings you comfort, my sweet neurodiverse friends.

I love you just the way you stinking are.