Mr. Papanikolaou, we are sorry, we do not accept "those children" in our school.

Mr. Papanikolaou, take your daughter out of the volleyball team, she will not make a career.

Dimitris, they mocked her on Tik Tok, calling her autistic.

Dimitris, she came back silent and upset again.

Dimitris, the other kids went out and told her they wouldn't go out so they wouldn't have to take her with them. Don't let her find out they lied to her.

One night my phone lit up with a notification. It was 11:11, a number my wife and I saw almost daily, on the phone, on receipts, on signs, on car plates, etc., since Aria's diagnosis.

This time I would pay more attention to them. What do you want to tell me and keep appearing in front of me? I took a screenshot. I focused on the numbers on the screen. If you removed one, it changed the total, each number was unique. Then I zoomed in. All the numbers were equal. In height, in thickness. "All unique, all equal. All unique, all equal!" I exclaimed.

I no longer gain anything from complaints and individual battles, I am shrinking. I will win by creating and spreading light. I will activate the good who outnumber, and the "bad" will back off.

But I still have one serious problem to solve. My wife won't let me speak publicly about the child because she is afraid of stigmatization. It doesn't matter, I have all the tools from sports and I know how good teams and their leaders work. I will take the responsibility, I will put myself forward and speak about myself.

There are no problems, only solutions.