Autism Mom Support Hub

For a long time, I told myself I didn’t have time. I have no time to go to a group class, no time for a workout, no time for anything that required me to step away—even for a little while. There is always something to do, always something my son needs, always something that feels more urgent or more important. And the truth is, most days, it really does feel that way.

But recently, I noticed myself being short, unbalanced, not present and just exhausted, so I decided to try something different. I signed up for a Pilates class.

If I’m being honest, I had always felt a little intimidated by it. It seemed like something “other people” did—people who had more time, more structure, more space for themselves. Not me. But as a mental health therapist, I know how important movement. So even though is out of my comfort zone, I decided to give it a try and see what happens.

Even after signing up, I knew there was a chance I wouldn’t make it. Life for us is unpredictable, and if I didn’t have someone to watch my son, then it simply wasn’t going to happen. That’s just the reality. But that day, everything aligned in a way that allowed me to go.

So I went.

And I didn’t realize how much I needed it until I was there.

It wasn’t just the movement itself, although that was powerful in its own way. It was also the environment, the pace, and especially the instructor. She was calm, grounded, and genuine—not overly energetic or performative, just very present. In the middle of guiding us through the class, she said something simple: “This time is for you.”

And that stayed with me.

Because while I understand that concept, I don’t always allow myself to fully believe it. The idea that it’s okay to have time that is just mine, that stepping away for 30 or 45 minutes is not selfish — it’s something I’m still learning to accept.

As I moved through the class, I noticed a shift. I wasn’t thinking about what needed to be done next. I wasn’t anticipating behaviors or planning the rest of the day or worrying about what might happen when I got back home. I was simply present. I was breathing, stretching, and paying attention to my body in a way that didn’t feel critical or corrective, but rather grounding.

When the class ended, I expected to feel tired, and I did—but it was a different kind of tired. It felt like a release, like my body and mind had finally exhaled together. At the same time, I felt energized, clearer, and lighter in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

What surprised me the most was realizing that I hadn’t lost time by going. I had actually gained something I didn’t even realize I was missing—more patience, more clarity, and more capacity.

And that became even more evident when I got home.

I found myself able to respond differently. I could anticipate my son’s needs in a calmer way, notice the early signs of a meltdown, and approach him with more patience instead of reacting from a place of overwhelm. It didn’t mean the challenges disappeared, but something in me had shifted enough to meet those moments differently.

Looking back, I truly believe that had everything to do with taking that time for myself. That small window of movement, of breathing, of being present—it filled something in me that had been running low. It filled my empty cup, I’ll talk more about that idea later, but in that moment, I could feel the difference.

Everything I do is centered around being there for my son. That has never changed. But what I am starting to understand is that taking care of myself is not separate from that—it’s part of it. When I give myself even a small moment to reset, I return more grounded, more patient, and more able to connect with him in the way I want to.

Movement, for me, is becoming one of those tools.

Not because I’m trying to follow a routine or achieve anything externally, but because it helps me regulate. It helps me slow down, breathe, and come back to myself. And that, in turn, allows me to show up more fully for him.

I also want to acknowledge that not everyone has access to something like this. Not everyone has childcare or the ability to step away for a class, and there are days when I don’t either. This isn’t about Pilates specifically. It’s about recognizing when a moment is available and allowing yourself to take it. Sometimes, the very thing we think we don’t have time for ends up being the exact thing that gives us what we need to keep going. That’s what it was for me.

I don’t have this fully figured out. I’m not doing it perfectly, and I’m probably not going to make it to every class.

But I’m starting to do something…And right now, that feels like enough.