May 23, 2023 • 7 min read
Traveling with a neurodivergent child is a rewarding challenge. Los Angeles-based mother, writer and producer-turned-recruiter Talia Bluth shares her story.
Costa Rica had to happen. In June of 2021, I needed a getaway. My days were consumed by arguments with my 7-year-old son over homeschooling, homework, and the challenges of remote work. Traveling together had always been our sanctuary, so we took off.
Little did I know that Costa Rica’s visit was pivotal for a much deeper reason. By summer’s end, we were left with a painful vacation memory and an autism diagnosis. Fast forward two years, and we were successfully trekking through Asia. The journey between those milestones was the toughest I’ve ever faced.
The Costa Rica Lesson
I made no plans other than to relax. After a divorce and the onset of a pandemic, that was all I could manage. I selected a peaceful resort with an Instagram-worthy pool in paradise. Pura Vida! Looking back, I realize how unprepared I was. Everything about the vacation was ideal for someone else. The hotel was serene; my son craved movement and play. While my unscheduled week became a monotonous lull, my son sought excitement. I thought this trip would soothe my frayed nerves, but it only brought more disappointment and misunderstanding.
He was dysregulated, I felt out of my element, and neither of us was content. Travel had changed significantly for my son since our last major trip—he hadn’t. I began to believe we would never travel again.
Denial is a River in Egypt
I adore travel for its ability to widen perspectives, and I want that for my son. However, the path post-Costa Rica was mine alone to navigate.
I had to reshape my understanding of parenting, community, and our place in the world. Knowing my son’s neurodevelopmental needs provided a framework for self-education. It also helped me recognize that I could no longer offer temporary explanations for his behavior, such as fatigue or the effects of divorce. Fortunately, we found support from specialists who guide us through a world that doesn’t always make sense. I was learning to embrace the mother I never anticipated becoming, and travel wasn’t even on my radar.
A Turning Point at Arches
Like many kids, my son tends to value ideas that come from others. Enter Mrs. Roberts, the unsung hero of our tale. She is an exceptional teacher who inspired my son while aiding him with a report on Arches National Park. All of a sudden, he—who had previously avoided initiatives outside his comfort zone—was asking to travel. Thanks to Mrs. Roberts’ encouragement, precisely one year after Costa Rica, we attempted again.
This time, I selected a hotel better adapted to his sensory requirements, kept the trip brief, and managed my expectations effectively. I let him lead the itinerary, keeping him engaged. It was a practice run, not flawless, but it was a success. He still reminisces about our four days in Utah as if we sailed around the globe.
And Then We Ended Up in Asia
Somewhere between Moab and Hanoi, I lost my job. After cherishing that job dearly, I felt heartbroken, so I took my son and we ran away. I needed to rediscover our joy, and Utah felt like a sign that we could find it.
Within a month, I planned an amazing 22-day adventure through three countries: Japan, Vietnam, and Cambodia. Having previous experience in Tokyo, I was confident my Pokémon-loving gamer son would appreciate it. Vietnam had always been on my travel bucket list, so I devoted two weeks to experience it fully. I ensured we crisscrossed various locations using Hanoi, Da Nang, and Ho Chi Minh as bases to explore the diverse regions. Once I realized how straightforward travel was in Southeast Asia, I added a weekend in Siem Reap, Cambodia to our itinerary—possibly my favorite 48 hours of the journey!
Friends praised the experience I was creating for my son, anticipating it to be unforgettable. Nevertheless, our therapists understood the truth: this was a significant risk.
Everything Old is New Again
On the surface, our travel plans resembled most travelers’ itineraries: ambitious, yet a typical undertaking for many Western adventurers.
However, every detail was carefully curated with my son’s needs in mind. Weeks before departure, I prepared a simple itinerary for him to process, enabling him ample time to ask questions about the logistics. Though he had flown numerous times, this journey involved seven flights, making direct flights imperative. I understood how quickly he could become overwhelmed, so minimizing time in airports was crucial.
Tokyo was the longest flight we could manage from our home in LA, establishing the beginning and ending points. My non-stop flight rule dictated the flow through cities in Vietnam and Cambodia.
The most significant difference, though, was my newfound patience and adaptability. I leaned into the days when he was receptive and eased off when he wasn’t. We explored animal cafes in Tokyo, paddled a basket boat under a full moon in Hoi An, Vietnam, and serendipitously stumbled upon The Giant Puppet Parade in Siem Reap. Such spontaneity emerged from both the excitement of discovery and my decision to follow his lead.
By avoiding group tours, we remained free from the pressure of following another’s proposed itinerary. Though more challenging for me, this approach yielded the needed flexibility for both of us.
What I Learned
The greatest lesson I’ve come to understand is that knowing your child intimately is vital for successful travel. For instance, I anticipated potential dysregulation that might confine us to our accommodation, prompting my choice of hotel rooms with balconies. This way, when we needed to stay inside for extended periods (which indeed occurred), I had access to additional space and a connection to the outdoors, preventing me from feeling claustrophobic.
This journey exercised my flexibility as a parent, without entirely sidelining my own needs. I aimed to avoid over-correcting to the point where I returned home feeling neglected. Balancing my desires with his is crucial for successful family travel. Prior to our departure, I outlined a few essential experiences I wanted to achieve, treating everything beyond that as delightful bonuses.
Before we left, panic momentarily gripped me. I confessed my fears to my best friend, worried I was overextending myself and inviting failure. I questioned many aspects of our plan.
Yet, I realized such feelings are part of parenting.
It bears its challenges, filled with uncertainties and exhilaration, whether we are in our living room or at a temple in Cambodia. Ultimately, the experience is invaluable. Our trip brought challenges: disappointments, meltdowns in public, and encounters (mostly in airports) with adults who misinterpreted his behavior. Despite these trials, the most rewarding aspect was witnessing a boy who is perfectly himself, alongside a mother willing to embrace the risks of exposing him to the vast world.
