On Their Own Timeline

When Avery was born at just 23 weeks, her future was uncertain. She spent the first six months of her life in the NICU, yet even then, Ashley  McCarthy remembers, her daughter seemed determined to do things on her own terms.  

"There would be times when the doctors would say, 'She really needs to do this, or we're going to have to take the next step,'" Ashley recalls with humor. "And it was like Avery heard them and thought, 'Okay, fine.' She's always done things when she was ready."   

As Avery grew, Ashley began noticing signs that her daughter was facing challenges beyond those associated with premature birth. But when she raised those concerns, they were often met with hesitation from medical professionals.  

“There was a lot of, ‘We don’t want to label her. She was so early,” Ashley says. “But I knew my kid.”  

This July, Disability Pride Month and Parents' Day arrive side by side on the calendar. While Disability Pride celebrates the identities, achievements, and lived experiences of people with disabilities, Parents' Day offers a chance to recognize the families who foster confidence, independence, and opportunity along the way. Ashley’s story reminds us that both celebrations are rooted in the same belief: every person deserves to be seen, valued, and supported.  

Today, Ashley's household is a daily reminder that there is no single autism story.   

Her daughter, Avery, is autistic. Her son Archer is autistic. Her husband is autistic. Yet each experiences the world in remarkably different ways.   

"My whole family is a walking example that if you've met one autistic person, you've met one autistic person."   

It's a lesson Ashley hopes more people understand. Autism isn't a checklist of characteristics or a single experience. Every person has their own personality, interests, strengths, and support needs.   

Motherhood, she says, hasn't looked the way she once imagined. There have been moments of isolation, careful planning, and wondering why everyday outings seemed so effortless for other families. While some people can casually gather at a friend's house, Ashley is often thinking about safety, sensory needs, and making sure her children feel comfortable.     

Raising Avery and Archer has shaped Ashley's perspective on the world.  

"I feel like they teach me something new every day," she says. "They remind me to stop and look around. I don't have to constantly go, go, go."   

Rather than back-to-back activities, sometimes quality time looks like watching bubbles drift through the air or seeing the excitement a spinning fan can bring. Ashley has learned to slow down with them—to sit beside them and notice the joy they find in things many adults rush past.  

One of the biggest shifts in her perspective came when she realized many of the expectations surrounding disability belonged to adults, not to her children.  

Parents naturally worry about milestones or the experiences their children might miss. Ashley remembers carrying that weight herself, wondering whether her children would ever do the things their peers were doing. 

"They don't know what they're missing," she says. "They're happy."   

Rather than measuring her children against someone else's timeline, Ashley celebrates what matters most to them. If they're safe, engaged, and doing something they love, that's enough. Their joy isn't defined by what they aren't doing—it's found in what they are.  

When asked what makes her most proud, Ashley doesn't immediately mention accomplishments or milestones.   

She talks about confidence.   

"I joke that maybe I took self-love a little too far," she laughs. "But my kids really love themselves. They love their bodies. They love who they are."   

It's a kind of pride many adults spend years trying to find.   

Of course, there are accomplishments worth celebrating as well.   

Archer is preparing to start kindergarten after educators recognized his academic strengths, continuing to impress his family. Avery recently achieved every goal in her Individualized Education Program (IEP), prompting her team to create an entirely new set of goals.   

One of the most exciting milestones has been Avery's growing independence.  

With the support of a community aide, Avery has started taking weekly outings without her parents. She enjoys visiting museums, swimming, seeing movies, and browsing the shelves of her favorite used bookstore. Ashley says Avery lights up at the simple promise of "books, books," a small joy that's entirely her own.  

Like any nearly-teenager, Avery is excited to experience more independence. For her parents, growing independence can also be intimidating. But each new experience is built around her interests, abilities, and goals.  

For Ashley, Disability Pride Month is also a reminder that inclusion requires action.   

She believes society has made tremendous progress, but true accessibility means making sure everyone can participate, not just when it's convenient.   

"It's acceptable to have a disability as long as it fits into a certain box," she says.   

Creating communities where everyone belongs isn't the responsibility of people with disabilities alone. It takes neighbors, educators, employers, advocates, and families all working together.  

As Ashley puts it, "We still have work to do."  

As someone without a disability in a household full of neurodivergent family members, Ashley sees herself as both a learner and an advocate. She knows she can never fully understand her family's lived experiences, but she can continue listening, supporting, and helping remove barriers wherever she can.   

When asked what she hopes other parents take away from her story, her answer isn't about having all the right answers.   

It's about finding your people.   

Some of the strongest friendships she's built began with a simple conversation after therapy or a class. Sometimes reaching out feels awkward. Sometimes it doesn’t lead anywhere. But sometimes it can become the beginning of the village every family deserves.  

She also wishes someone had given her permission to acknowledge the hard days.   

When Avery first came home from the NICU, Ashley remembers feeling guilty anytime she felt frustrated.   

"I would tell myself, 'You just need to be grateful she's alive. You can't be upset.'"   

Now she knows better.   

"It's okay to have those feelings," she says. "Give yourself a minute. Cry if you need to. Then you keep going."   

When Avery was born, she was already determined to do things on her own timeline.  

Today, Ashley knows that's never been something to change.  

It’s something to celebrate.  

This Parents' Day, we celebrate parents like Ashley, who advocate with unwavering love while making room for their children to become exactly who they are.  

And this Disability Pride Month, we celebrate people like Avery and Archer, whose confidence, resilience, and individuality remind us that every path forward looks different—and everyone deserves to be valued and celebrated.