In the Passenger Seat

The Things People Assume

This article is a fictionalized piece inspired by common lived experiences and perspectives shared within the FASD community. It was written to encourage understanding, compassion, and conversation around stigma and support.

Sometimes people look at me like they already know my story.

They see that my child has FASD, and I can almost feel the assumptions filling in the blanks for them.

They assume I didn’t care.
They assume I was reckless.
They assume I chose alcohol over my child.

Some people assume I’m an addict.
Others assume I must have ignored every warning and every risk.

What they don’t see is that I was still in high school.

What they don’t know is that I didn’t even realize I was pregnant right away.

At that age, pregnancy felt like something that happened to other people.
I was young, immature, and honestly not thinking far enough ahead to imagine how one decision could affect an entire lifetime.

There are moments I still replay in my mind.

Moments I wish I could redo.
Moments I wish I understood differently back then.

When my child struggles, I feel it deeply.

I see the frustration when things feel overwhelming.
I see the exhaustion that comes from trying to keep up in a world that often expects people to function the same way.
I see the hurt when others misunderstand behaviours instead of asking what might be underneath them.

And there are times I wonder if people are silently blaming me in those moments too.

The truth is, there is already enough guilt without adding shame from the outside.

No mother dreams about hearing a diagnosis connected to something they did during pregnancy.
No mother wants to wonder if a different choice could have changed everything.

But staying trapped in shame doesn’t help my child.
And it doesn’t help other women seek support either.

What has helped is learning.
Listening.
Understanding the brain differently.
Learning how to support instead of punish.
Learning that progress doesn’t always look the way people expect it to.

I have also learned that stigma keeps people silent.

Some women are afraid to ask questions.
Afraid to admit they drank before they knew they were pregnant.
Afraid of being judged before anyone understands their situation.

And judgment is everywhere.

People are often more comfortable blaming than understanding.

But life is rarely that simple.

Today, my focus is not on hiding from the past.
It is on showing up for my child in the present.

It is advocating when systems don’t understand.
It is celebrating strengths that other people sometimes overlook.
It is learning patience, flexibility, and compassion in ways I never expected.

My child is more than a diagnosis.

And I am more than the worst assumption someone could make about me.

I cannot change the beginning of our story.

But every day, I can choose how I continue it.