With a high-functioning kid, I guess I ended up in "Holland." The problem was (is) most people, including pediatricians and educators, for a long while insisted I actually was in "Italy" (even though I tried to tell them that as far as I know, "fields of tulips" are not typically Italian!!). They refused to give me even a tourist map of Haag or a Dutch dictionary. Insisting that if I spoke nothing but Italian with my child, told him everything about Roman mythology, and read Cicero and Plutarch for bedtime stories (gold stars, time outs, and even some very harsh - not to be mentioned - methods ☹️) he would eventually become a true Italian...
I love my "Dutch" son, but the years when I gave in to my fears and tried to turn him into an "Italian" truly are the worst years of my life, not because of who he was/is, but because of my fears and others' expectations.
He is now very well versed in all things "Italian," to the point that most people outside his immediate family think he is "Italian." Still, deep down, he is and will always be a true "Dutch." He has to learn to advocate for himself for a disability that very few outside of his family ever see any traces of - until the moment when he has been treated as an Italian for too long and simply has a meltdown...
I hear you, the Netherlands is an awesome country, and for many parents, ASD-country is anything but awesome.
But my HF/ASD son is an awesome kid. In fact, the vast majority of the adjectives you used to describe the country also describe my son. Nevertheless, he is not "Italian" (neurotypical, NT), and treating him like an NT - not adjusting for his very specific sensory needs, etc. - is exhausting to him in the long run, just as most (real) Dutch people probably would feel a little exhausted being expected to behave like (real) Italian people all day long. (Whatever it is to be Dutch or Italian for real; like all analogies, this one is not perfect.) And if an analogy helps other people see my son for who he is, and maybe cut him some slack when he, for example, insists on wearing the same jeans & hooded jacket regardless of the weather - we live in a very hot climate - then life would be so much easier for him, and so much less anxious for me as a mom when he takes his first steps into adulthood.
:)
For our family and me, it (now) is a "Welcome to Holland" experience. I totally realize and am very humble about the fact that for many parents, "Welcome to Beirut" is a way more accurate analogy. And if I would have been writing this some eight or ten years ago, I would have totally described my situation as more like a war zone than a tulip field...
I can see *now* that what I thought were mine fields in my kid's brain, things that I thought would damage his possibilities of being accepted in society, and eventually even hinder his independent living as an adult, all those things he did that I was so ashamed of, and all the fighting I felt I had to do, both with him and for him, all those "mines," in reality, were tulip bulbs developing...
And by grace, I didn't have time nor energy at the time to let the minesweepers destroy all the bulbs before I realized their true nature. Some bulbs survived, and now they are starting to blossom as my kid matures, despite all my shortcomings and mistakes. This, too, by grace.
I realize, I unintentionally imply that not all ASD-kids are awesome, that is NOT what I want to say!
Holland is a great country, just like my kid is a great kid. All kids, ASD and NT, are, in fact, great kids. But for some families, the environment in which you have to live with your kids is anything but great. Many ASD-parents live in a hostile environment, which makes it hard to fully appreciate all of the awesomeness of your own child. Not sleeping well for months at a time, for example, can make any environment feel like an apocalyptic desert... and you might even mistake your own beautiful "tulip"- child for a "prickly cactus."
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