Dylan Finds His Place

Finding Safety, Trust, and Transformation at PFP

There are moments in a parent’s life that reshape them. Moments when fear settles into the bones, when uncertainty becomes routine, and when hope feels painfully out of reach. For Colleen, many of those moments centered around her son, Dylan. And many of the moments that restored her hope began at Partners for Progress.

Today, Dylan is a young man finding joy in puzzles with his mom, going to the park, and most of all coming to Partners for Progress. Diagnosed with Autism at only 3 years old, he now works in the barn through the Occupational Life Skills program, helping with laundry and tasks that build independence. He is maturing into someone confident, capable, and connected. But the road to where he is now was long, winding, and filled with challenges no family should navigate alone.

Dylan loves the park!

Before PFP: A Life Lived in Fear, Survival, and Constant Adaptation

For years, public spaces were dangerous for Dylan. His elopement was so severe that Colleen had to apply for a handicap parking placard, not for mobility issues, but for safety. Getting the closest possible spot meant fewer feet to run before reaching the door, fewer moments for Dylan to dart into traffic, fewer chances for tragedy.

She still remembers the day he nearly got hit by a car. That moment cemented a reality she already feared. Public settings were not safe for her son.

For six months, she kept Dylan out of public completely. It was not sustainable. It was not fair. But it was the only way she could keep him safe.

And in those moments, strangers and sometimes even family did not understand. They saw behaviors. They did not see or know the struggle behind them. Colleen now refuses to apologize for who Dylan is, but that strength was forged through years of being misunderstood, judged, and isolated.

Communication Lost Overnight

One of the most heartbreaking chapters of their journey came when Dylan was three. He had around twenty-seven words, bright little sparks of language that gave Colleen so much hope. And then, abruptly, the words vanished, almost overnight.

Colleen watched her son fall silent. The fear of that moment has never left her. He now communicates through babbling, gestures, and an augmentative and alternative communication (AAC) device, but using his device consistently has been a challenge, especially through years of medication changes and hormonal shifts that affected his cognitive clarity.

Kenzie has worked intentionally to reintroduce his AAC device at Partners for Progress, finding ways to honor his communication without forcing it. That patience has been pivotal.

Years of Medication Mismanagement

Before moving to Illinois, Dylan was overmedicated in Texas. The medications were layered on top of each other until his doctors became alarmed. After moving, Dylan endured a ten-day hospitalization in Chicago. Withdrawal was so physically painful that he began hurting himself.

It took nearly a year for his medical team to steady him. And today, he has gone nine months without a single medication change, a record in his life. A sign of equilibrium. A sign of stability.

Dylan's favorite place...being on a horse!

Horses, Trust, and a Barn Unlike Any Other

Dylan first experienced horseback riding in Texas, not therapy, just recreational riding, but he fell in love with horses instantly. Horses were his bridge, his comfort. But it was not until Partners for Progress that horses became his therapy, trust, and transformation.

Colleen found Partners for Progress online after searching endlessly for someplace that understood riders like Dylan. Other places were closer, more convenient, more traditional, but they did not have the expertise he needed. They did not have the knowledge. They did not have the heart.

At Partners for Progress, the staff did not talk about fixing him; they talked about supporting him. They did not impose expectations; they built trust first. They did not hand him a list of goals; they created small, reachable steps tailored just to him.

Therapists Who Truly Saw Dylan

Therapists like Mandi and Kenzie worked not just with the horse, but with Dylan’s body, mind, and heart. They even addressed his congenital foot condition in the therapy room, supporting him holistically because they saw the big picture. And slowly, moment by moment, Dylan began learning to trust more than just horses. He learned to trust people.

He loves the animals here, the goats, Mousey the cat, and the herd. He loves the volunteers, especially Gary, whom amusingly, he cannot work closely with anymore because he loves Gary too much, making it hard to focus on therapy.

Kenzie and Dylan are blowing bubbles.

Dylan was so excited!

Finding Friendship and Belonging

For the first time, Dylan has a friend in the Occupational Life Skills Program, a peer he looks forward to seeing. He is thriving in proper placement at his school, and that stability has lowered his stress so dramatically that his stimming has almost disappeared.

He is more social than ever before and even more regulated. More himself.

The First Days at Partners for Progress: Fear, Overwhelm, and a Turning Point

Colleen vividly remembers Dylan’s early days at Partners for Progress. He did not want to get out of the car. He refused the bathroom. He dropped to the ground and would not stand up. He stimmed intensely. He eloped. He could barely tolerate being at the barn.

Therapy was an obstacle course of emotions for both mother and son.

At the start of this year, he learned how to dismount his horse by himself, mid-session. His newfound skill came with newfound temptation. He would try to slide off in the middle of riding, fascinated by his ability. Partners for Progress handled this with firm but loving boundaries. If you dismount early, we will not stay on the horses. And because he loved horses so much, he understood. It clicked. And suddenly, the barn was no longer scary. It was his place.

There was a moment everything clicked for him, Colleen said. He almost decided this was his place. Instead of bracing herself each week, Colleen began looking forward to bringing him.

His posture improved so much at Partners for Progress that it changed the way he sat at the dinner table. When she says, “Sit up like you are on your horsey,” he understands. He corrects himself. He is proud.

Dylan is riding Rupert.

A Defining Moment: Safety Through Connection

There was a day at school when Dylan ran from the staff, triggering every fear from his past. Colleen was terrified. But she called out, “Dylan, you want to go see Kenzie?”

He stopped instantly.

He turned.

He got into the car.

His love for Partners for Progress was stronger than any impulse to run.

And in the car, there was no hitting. No dysregulation. He knew where he was going. He was going somewhere safe. Somewhere that felt like home.

What Partners for Progress Means to a Mother Who Has Fought for Her Son

When asked what Partners for Progress means to her, Colleen’s voice fills with emotion.

She sees volunteers who celebrate her son. She sees staff who understand him deeply. She sees progress built piece by piece, not forced, but nurtured. She is reminded constantly in the moments at the barn that Dylan is surrounded by people who truly see him.

Colleen drives thirty minutes each way to get to Partners for Progress, and she says she will keep doing it for as long as she can because here Dylan is safe. Here, Dylan is loved. Here, Dylan is growing into himself.

The volunteers accept his behaviors. The staff adapts to his needs. The horses respond to his heart.

Partners for Progress is not just therapy for Dylan. It is healing for Colleen. It is a lifeline for their family. It is a place where possibility is no longer fragile; it is alive.

Dylan feels happy and safe.

A Final Reflection

Dylan’s story is not simple, easy, or linear, but it is powerful.

It is a story of a child who lost his words and found trust again. A child who eloped from fear and now runs toward joy. A child overwhelmed by the world who now walks into a barn and feels safe.

It is a story of a mother who refused to give up. Who fought for her son through hospitals, medications, behaviors, fear, and judgment. And who found a place where her son was not only understood, but celebrated.

It is a story of what is possible when expertise, compassion, perseverance, and community converge.

It is a story of why Partners for Progress exists.

Why our volunteers show up.

Why our staff go above and beyond.

Why our horses carry so much more than riders.

Why this work matters.

And it is a story that will continue into 2026 and beyond because families like Dylan’s deserve a place where transformation is not only possible but expected.