Tiny Steps, Big Heart: The Start of My Autism Photography Project
You know those things you feel really passionate about, but when someone asks you to explain them, you immediately start word-vomiting like a caffeinated raccoon at 2AM? Yeah. This is one of those things.
I don’t have a perfect pitch or a five-step plan with colour-coded tabs (although if anyone wants to make me one, please, I’ll trade you snacks). What I do have is a full heart, a head of ideas, a camera, and a dream that’s slowly taking shape—one beautiful, neurodivergent moment at a time.
Why this project? Because it’s personal.
My son—my hilarious, strong-willed, kind, clever boy—was diagnosed with ASD Level 1 with communication delays. And like most moms navigating a new diagnosis, I did the classic combo of Googling, second-guessing everything I ever did, signing up to any and all Facebook groups, and also realizing… oh wow, this explains so much.
And in between all that, I kept taking pictures.
Not the posed kind where everyone’s in matching outfits and smiling stiffly at a camera (though hey, those have their place). I mean the real stuff. Him lining up his cars. Him crawling through the construction zone that is our backyard cabin. Him completely in his element doing something that brings him joy.
These moments? They’re (for lack of a better term) magic. And they deserve to be seen.
So here's the idea (messy and beautiful, just like life):
I want to offer in-home sessions for autistic children—capturing them in their comfort zones, doing what they love, being themselves. No pressure to perform. No awkward “say cheese!” moments. Just love, safety, and that quiet (or sometimes very loud) joy that fills a space when a child feels truly comfortable.
I’ve started connecting with a couple of families. I haven’t taken the photos yet—because I want to build trust, not just show up with a lens and a checklist. But I’ve been listening to their stories, and let me tell you… these kids are incredible.
Each one has their own rhythm. Their own way of connecting. Their own sparkle.
And also showcasing their hardships. I put it to you though, dear reader, what kid doesn’t have hardships. These stories are real. This project is real. It’s supposed to be steeped in truth. Demonstrating that this diagnosis is just a map to the inner workings of these beautiful kids, but also, that there are roadblocks in a broken system designed for different minds than what they have.
The very loose, totally-not-even-on-a-vision-board dream?
Eventually, I’d love to gather these images and stories into a gallery-style event—where we raise awareness, celebrate neurodiversity, and support autism-specific charities. I imagine walls lined with moments of joy and comfort, paired with stories that’ll make you laugh, cry, and go, “Oh my gosh, that’s just like my kid.”
Do I know exactly how this event will come together? Not even close. But that’s ok. Much like navigating this diagnosis, I’ll figure it out.
Why am I telling you this now?
Because maybe you’re a mom of an autistic child and you’ve never seen your kid captured in a way that feels real. Maybe you’re just someone who believes in the power of stories. Or maybe you’re like me—someone who’s scared to start something because it’s not “perfect” yet.
This is me saying: let’s start anyway.
Let’s build the thing slowly and with intention. Let’s celebrate the weird, wonderful, beautiful brains our kids have. Let’s show the world what love looks like in its truest form—unfiltered, unposed, and totally unique.
Thanks for being here while this idea is still tiny and growing. I hope you’ll stick around to see what it becomes.
And if you or someone you know would be interested in one of these sessions (or just wants to chat about it), my inbox is always open. Especially if you come with memes. 😉
With love and way too many tabs open,
Laura
CEO-ish of LJW Creative Photography
Photographer / Autism Advocate-in-the-Making / Proud Mama
