This group is small, but it’s good. It’s all that I need.
Feeling emotional and very much alive, I lift my violin to my chin, and I set my bow upon the strings.
I play.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This book is a work of fiction, but it’s also half memoir. To date, it’s the most “me” book that I’ve written. That’s why it’s in first person rather than third, like my other books. The words came out easier when I said “I” instead of “she.” But the personal nature of this book made it harrowing to write. Anna’s struggles were mine. Her pain was mine. Her shame was mine. And I relived it every time I sat down to write. All in all, for reasons ranging from writer’s block to autistic burnout, it took me more than three years to finish, but regardless of how this book is received, I’m proud that I made it through and proud of the story I told. Writing this author’s note is a momentous occasion for me.
At the same time, however, writing this note is a bittersweet experience, too. I wrote the author’s note for The Bride Test while I was in my mom’s hospital room, keeping her company as she struggled from complications related to her lung cancer treatments. Even as sick as she was, she tried to talk to me, to connect with me. She made the time count. But that night was the last time she was really “herself.” After that, her illness consumed her. Out of love, my family took her out of the hospital and brought her home, where my siblings and I cared for her around the clock. As my mom’s sickness worsened, I suffered from suicidal ideation. I’m not sharing this because I want anyone’s sympathy. I’m sharing this because I want people to know how real and serious caregiver burnout is. I’m lucky to be alive.
I feel like there’s a conversation about caregiving that society isn’t having. It’s not something that people can freely talk about. No one wants to be seen as “complaining,” and no one wants to make a loved one feel like they’re a burden. But the truth is caregiving is hard. Not everyone is suited for it. I most certainly am not, and it has nothing to do with my being on the autism spectrum. There are many autistic people who work as nurses and doctors and other types of healthcare providers and derive meaning and satisfaction from it. Even those who like this kind of work can get burned out from the heavy physical, mental, and emotional tolls it takes on them, as we’ve seen among frontline workers caring for patients with severe COVID-19.
As a society, we need to have compassion for all people affected by illness and disability—and that means those who receive care as well as those who give care. We all matter, and no one should feel like they can’t ask for help when they need it. If someone says they’re hurting, please listen. Please take them seriously. Please be kind. If you’re hurting, please be kind to yourself.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline Australia: 13 11 14
New Zealand: 0800 543 354
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you, readers, for waiting for this book! For reasons that I suspect you can guess after reading The Heart Principle, I wasn’t able to finish writing on time to publish last year. I’m sorry for any disappointment I may have caused—but also perversely happy if anyone likes my books enough to be disappointed when they don’t release on schedule. I hope the wait was worth it.
This book was a long time in the making, so there are many people I need to thank individually or by name. First of all, thank you, thank you, thank you to my husband. I seriously wouldn’t have made it here without your support. You lifted me up when I felt down （which was often—I’m sorry）。 You let me talk your ears off about this book even though I’m sure you were bored. You hugged me, fed me, managed our kids’ pandemic schooling so I could write, and covered our tiny yard with milkweed and passion vine so I could watch the butterflies. I love you with all my heart.
Thank you to my baby sister, 7. I’m so lucky Mom and Dad accidentally conceived you during that Bermuda vacation, so I could have my best friend at my side my entire life （except for the one year, one month, and one day that I lived alone before you were born）。 Thank you for the dinners, donuts, butterfly cage, and the millions of thoughtful things you do. Most of all, thank you for you. Love you, em.
Next, I need to thank my writer friends for being there throughout this process: Roselle Lim, you are funny and wise and kind. Pictures of your cat give me life, lol. Suzanne Park, I’m inspired by you. How you manage to achieve all that you do and still be such a considerate friend is mind-boggling. A. R. Lucas, I treasure you. You tell me the hard truths that I need to hear, but always with kindness and compassion. Gwynne Jackson, I’m grateful for all the times you’ve listened to me pour my heart out without judgment. Talking to you is like getting a big hug. Rachel Simon, I’m so glad we’ve gotten to know each other over the past few years. Your friendship, honesty, and thoughtfulness mean a great deal to me. Mazey Eddings, your vivid personality made this past year much more bearable. Chloe Liese, I have such respect for you and your work. You make this world better. My mentor, Brighton Walsh, I wouldn’t have had the confidence to hand this manuscript to my editor without your help. Thank you, as always, for your guidance.