Learning to See Cam: A Dad’s Journey with Autism

There are moments in life that shift your entire perspective.

For me, that moment came with my son, Cameron.

I’m sharing this story in hopes of encouraging other dads to speak up. I’ve read hundreds of stories from moms sharing their experiences, but it’s rare to hear a father's voice in this space.

I’ve read so many beautiful and brave stories from mothers sharing their experiences with raising a child on the autism spectrum—but you don’t often hear from dads. That’s why I wanted to share our family’s story—mine, my wife Lauren’s, and most importantly, Cameron’s.

As a father of a son with Autism Spectrum Disorder, I’ve learned about perseverance, patience, and the unique strength of a child who sees the world differently. Autism Awareness Month felt like the right time to speak up, not just for Cam, but for other dads out there who might be on this same road and feeling alone. Our story is one of love, learning, and learning to see the world through Cam’s eyes.

Looking Back: When We First Noticed

From the time Cam was a baby, we knew something was different. As early as infancy, we noticed dietary issues. Cameron would vomit frequently and spit up often, leading to hospital visits. As he got older, he would drink excessive amounts of milk and refuse most other foods. We later learned he had acid reflux, which is common in people with autism.

There were also sensory challenges. Certain sounds—toilet flushing, running water, loud voices—would make Cameron cover his ears. He refused haircuts and was incredibly strong.

We also noticed repetitive behaviors. Cam would spin in circles for long periods without getting dizzy, rewatch the same two-minute video clip, and recite entire books and shows.

Lauren trusted her instincts and brought up speech delays with the pediatrician, but was told several times not to worry. “Boys develop slower,” they said. It wasn’t until his fifth ear infection that a new pediatrician, one with experience in autism, finally listened—and referred us for speech therapy.

There was one day I’ll never forget. It was the summer of 2021, and we had Cam in a toddler soccer class. He wasn’t interested in drills—he just wanted to cheer for the other kids. He wasn't having a great day and feeling lethargic, and the coach looked at my son and said, “He’s not here with us,” before moving on the another child. I couldn’t have been more hurt, as a parent. I could've yelled at that lady and caused a scene, but I didn’t. I looked at my son and at that moment, Cameron had the biggest smile on his face and wasn’t concerned a bit by her comments. His world wasn’t affected by her lack of empathy, and I knew I wasn’t going to help my child by scolding someone who didn’t care to help my child. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew there were people who could help Cameron. That night, Lauren and I sat down and talked about how to support Cameron in the best way possible.

The Diagnosis

We knew it was time to get answers. But getting an autism evaluation? It wasn’t easy. Every provider had a 12+ month waitlist. Thankfully, our pediatrician pulled some strings, and we were able to get tested within two months.

The testing process was emotional. It felt like an interrogation at times, full of questions that made us second-guess ourselves as parents. But it was necessary. My advice to other parents? Keep a journal. When you’re in the thick of it, it’s hard to recall everything on the spot.

Cameron went through:

> Autism Diagnostic Interview-Revised (ADI-R): A structured interview with parents about social interaction, communication, and repetitive behaviors.
> Autism Diagnostic Observation Schedule (ADOS): A standardized assessment observing your child's communication, play, and social behaviors.

Cam had just turned three. The results came a few weeks later—right in the middle of our workday (a scheduling choice I wouldn’t recommend). The clinician shared that Cam tested well in some cognitive areas, but showed significant challenges with social interaction, communication, and repetitive behaviors. He was diagnosed with Level 1 cognitive and Level 2 social Autism Spectrum Disorder.

The news wasn’t a shock, but it still landed hard. I thought maybe early intervention could “help” him catch up or change. The truth is—autism isn’t something to fix. But there’s so much that can be done early on to support development, especially before age seven. That’s when we dove into ABA therapy.

What’s Helped Us the Most

Cam started Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) therapy in February 2023. It’s intense—five days a week, four hours a day. He was paired with a BCBA and a tech who worked with him daily. At the same time, he started in a special education preschool program.

Eventually, we transitioned him into a general education classroom. We wanted to set the bar high for what he was capable of. That decision wasn’t about pressure—it was about belief.

In a short time, Cam’s communication skills blossomed. His therapists helped with everything—potty training, food aversions, spinning behaviors, social play, haircuts, hygiene. They became superheroes in our eyes. I can’t say enough about the BCBA’s, tech, Occupational Therapists, and Speech Pathologists that worked with Cameron. The exceptional care for our child as if he was theirs. He graduated from ABA, OT, and speech in July 2024, and began a Young 5’s program that August.

And through it all, we adapted. We needed to support his world and not force ours. Cam doesn’t love the sports I grew up with—but he’s obsessed with whales, reading, swimming, and especially his Disney Cars die-cast collection. One of our favorite things now is “race night,” where we narrate and reenact entire YouTube-style races on the custom track I built for him. It’s a such a joy watching him play and announce the entire race!

The World Around Us

Cam is tall for his age. He’s bright, kind, and socially unique. But that can lead to misunderstandings in public. People might not realize what’s going on or assume something is wrong. He can recite entire books, solve math problems well beyond his age, and make you laugh without trying. But if he’s not feeling your energy? He’ll tell you. That’s Cam.

His innocence is one of my biggest fears—not because it’s a flaw, but because the world isn’t always gentle. That’s why I tell our story. Because maybe someone out there will be more empathetic to people who are different than you. Our journey as a family that I’ve shared certainly does not fully represent all our challenges, and being a part of ABA Therapy, I witnessed struggles that other families have that are way more challenging than our journey. You don’t know what others are going through from day to day, and it’s not my job to judge who has it worse, but I can control how I treat others and try to be more accepting.

Pause and choose empathy.

To Other Dads: You’re Not Alone

If you’re on this road—know this: your voice matters. There are resources, communities, and other dads out here figuring it out, too. I’ve joined parents’ autism groups on Facebook, I talk to other parents that have autistic kids and share stories and resources, and I stay involved in my kids’ activities.

The best advice I received was from a friend, mentor and former boss. He said "Keep the bar high and don’t let others tell you what your kid is capable of." At a time, when I was selfishly thinking about all the things my kid may not be able to do, hearing that advice fueled my purpose, which is ensuring that I create opportunities for Cameron to do things I never imagined doing myself.

I know there will be more challenges ahead. But as someone once told me, "This will be the hardest and most rewarding thing you ever do," and I couldn’t agree more. This journey hasn’t been easy. There are days I wonder why we were chosen for this path. But I know without a doubt—it’s made me better. It’s given me purpose. And it’s brought me closer to the kind of father I want to be.

Loving and supporting Cameron has been the greatest blessing of my life. I won’t accept sympathy for his diagnosis. We're beyond lucky to have a son who laughs, smiles, and brings us so much joy. And if our story helps another family along the way, that’s even better. I wouldn’t trade this journey for anything.