By Autism Society


I met my husband when he was 42 years old. I was finishing graduate school. He was the smartest, wittiest, most handsome and amazing man that had ever crossed my path. Sure, he was also painfully shy, but I was smitten and wasn’t going to let that deter me. I suppose that I gave him no choice and we were soon the best of friends, as I dragged him to movies and concerts and museums, instead of his usual homebody routine.

I had never heard of Asperger’s. I found it odd that this amazing man had never dated, never had a girlfriend, and kept so much to himself, but he was my Prince Charming and that was that. We fell in love and he asked me to marry him only a few days after officially becoming a couple.

He was very straightforward and serious about things. There were some uncomfortable moments when he would simply bring up sensitive relationship issues, and I thought, “wow, this guy doesn’t mince words!” He was very finicky, didn’t want me to do his laundry, insisted that things be “just so” in his routine. There were also some tough moments. He says what he thinks and he doesn’t censor it. He doesn’t say flowery things about our relationship or my appearance. He has no ability to put himself in your shoes, which can make him seem very selfish. I love him and I’ve learned to deal with his quirks.

Sure, he’s not your average husband, but we’ve had 10 wonderful years together and I love him to pieces. Our nearly 8-year-old son was diagnosed with Asperger’s when he was 6. So, I’ve got two of them — and I wouldn’t have it any other way.