I was 28 years old when I was finally diagnosed. Three words on a piece of paper explained 28 years of confusion and pain. Just three words.
Autism Spectrum Disorder.
Some people would feel that those three words were the end of their life. Maybe a great inconvenience, an “othering” disorder, or societal leprosy. A social deformity. There is a stigma around individuals that find themselves under the ASD umbrella and it’s just unfair. But the more I live with myself knowing that there was always an answer to why I was so fucking weird, I find comfort and understanding. There's nothing wrong with me, I just see life differently. I don’t fit into society and the rules that always escaped me.
I never did.
Being raised the way I did and the fact that mental health was never a conversation in the household, I was never able to talk to anyone that would have told me that there was nothing wrong with me. I spent years hating myself, not understanding why my peers would make fun of me, or why I couldn’t tell when someone wasn’t being genuine. I spent years alone, not being able to make friends (and also not being allowed to, but that's for a different post), because I couldn’t play pretend and I wouldn’t look you in the eye.
My formative years weren’t ones I look back on fondly, but my saving grace is that as an adult, knowing that this is just how I’m wired and it’s actually a pretty cool way to be, I’m able to surround myself with people who know this, and not only accept this aspect of myself but celebrates it.
One of my closest friends is also under the ASD umbrella and I have never had to mask around her. From the moment we met, I was able to be unapologetically myself. She knows I can’t handle small talk, so we spend hours talking about a million different interests we both have. We both hold the space for each other to take a few extra minutes to formulate a sentence, we video chat in complete silence for hours at a time, she sends me links to my interests and I share memes about hers.
My life leveled up after I read those three words on the paper. The feeling of having to apologize for my ticks or lack of tact melted away. I’m no longer ashamed when I have to say to someone “I don’t understand”, “What do you mean?”, “I’m sorry that I said something that hurt you.” Because now I know that it’s just because my brain is wired differently. I am able to apologize with my whole chest and earnestly when I say something wrong because I know it’s just my brain telling me it’s ok to say something when it really isn’t.
I have been able to be gentle with myself, learning how to be soft with the behaviors that push so many people away. Now I have an answer. “I’m autistic, could you explain that in a different way?”, “I’m autistic, and overhead lights are the fucking devil.”, “I’m autistic.”
Those three words on that piece of paper changed my life.
To the kids that made fun of me way back when I’m not holding a grudge. You were kids trying to navigate living as individuals and I was the weird kid. I wish you nothing but success, respect, love, and happiness in your lives.
To the adults that didn’t know they were dealing with an autistic child, y’all were dicks for no reason and helped my younger years be the worst times of my life. I wish for you a life of beige and unseasoned boiled chicken.
I am going to attach some links to some screening tools and definitions in case someone reading this is like hm, maybe thats the answer?
Autism Quotient (done after taking RAADS-R test, and scoring high)
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