Why I’m Grateful for My Daughter’s Tears

My daughter Julianna bombed her swim meet this weekend.

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Added time to every single race.

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It happens. It just wasn’t her weekend.
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When she came out of that pool Dad and I saw her` crying behind her goggles. My husband’s heart broke watching it. “I hate seeing her cry over this,” he said.
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But me? I smiled.
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Because I remember where we started.
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At age 2, Julianna lost all her language. Was in diapers. I had to teach her to potty train using sign language because she couldn’t speak.
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When she was 3, I remember sitting in my car after following her special education bus to school, watching staff wrestle a teenage girl in a helmet to the ground to keep her from running away.
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Two months later, that same school was fundraising for a 9-year-old with autism who drowned in his backyard pool.
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Back then, I would have given anything to have my biggest worry be swim times.
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And now here we are. My 12-year-old isn’t just on a swim team – she’s PISSED about not beating her times.
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Those aren’t tears over basic life skills anymore.
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Those are tears because she CARES.
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Because she wants to WIN.

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And you know what? I fucking LOVE those tears.
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Show me a child who comes out of a pool or leaves a baseball field crying because they didn’t win, and I’ll show you a WINNER in the making.
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We’ve created a society that demonizes losing, that rushes to say “it’s just a game.”
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But life IS losing constantly with occasional wins.

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Every loss is a stepping stone to greatness, a process of elimination, one step closer to finding what works.
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That’s what builds GRIT.

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And grit is what’s going to help her survive – no, THRIVE – when I’m gone.
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So yesterday, I hit up three different Dollar Trees to find her favorite mini Oreos in the cans she likes. Because even with how far we’ve come, I’m still an autism mom who hoards the ONE thing my kid loves. Some things never change.
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But you want to know what makes this a real champagne problem?

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Four weeks ago, this same kid who was crying over swim times marched herself into her guidance counselor’s office. Made her own appointment. Told them she wanted to drop lunch chorus because SHE never signed up for it – her mom did.
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When her high honor roll goal was slipping, together we made a plan. We got a tutor and Julianna hit every extra help session. Then showed me the proof of her improved grades and explained why she didn’t need Friday Homework Helpers anymore.
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That’s not just a kid surviving with autism.
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That’s a kid OWNING her life.​
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These are the problems I once prayed we’d be lucky enough to have.
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So yeah, when I see those tears over a bad swim meet? I smile.
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Because every one of those tears is a gift.
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​These aren’t just good problems to have.

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These are EXCEPTIONAL problems.
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​These are the problems of a child who’s not just surviving with autism—she’s leading her own life, setting her own goals, and yes, shedding her own tears when she falls short.
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And every single day, I’m grateful for these “problems” that, at one time, I wasn’t even sure we’d get the chance to have.
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Your child’s tears of disappointment might just be the greatest gift you never knew to pray for. They’re not a sign of weakness—they’re proof of passion, determination, and the incredible journey from survival to success.

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Xo Michelle

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​P.S. Ready to transform your child’s struggles into champagne problems? Let’s talk about how we can work together to get your child from survival mode to setting their own goals and crushing them (even if sometimes there are tears along the way). Book a complimentary consultation call here to learn more about working with me in my group coaching program.
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P.P.S – I created a REEL and captured Julianna’s face when she saw those cookies. Watch it HERE ⬇️⬇️⬇️