They are her friends’ parents who complain to me because it’s their child’s turn to come home to play with Mila and I still haven’t called them. Those who had to leave due to one of my little girl’s crisis and nonetheless want to return, the school guides who are moved when they see her happy and cry when we say goodbye at the end of the year. My neighbors who know of her increasingly sporadic screams and look with gentle hearts, the airport of Buenos Aires and its staff who treated my daughter with kid gloves, the restaurants she usually goes to, who ask me when she steps foot on them if they should comply with any routine, the police officer who stopped me for control in the midst of a crisis and to whom I asked to give me two seconds and comforted us both, the man who takes care of my animals in the countryside, who sometimes brings me a sandwich and just says "rest” , my friend Dete that got to know of the rigidity, inflexibility and stress of autism in the early years, and still spends holidays with us, the parents who took their children to my daughter’s therapies to learn how to acquire communication techniques, the therapists who put up with swipes from this mom who had to turn into a lioness, the school who told me that it would always be my daughter's school, the man who rented us out the apartment in Rio de Janeiro and several times a day came by to see how she was doing or brought his son with him so they could play together in the swimming pool, to the man who was driving a boat and put together the tour so that she could enjoy it, I could name many people and events, but rather than making a list , my partner and I want to work towards finding support and being respectful of the diversity, with or without disabilities so as to support those who need it the most.