when i was diagnosed with autism at 13 years old, i wasn’t even sure what the word meant. my parents told me, in the most basic way, that my brain worked differently than others. it was not good or bad, it was just different.
they explained there may be certain things that would be harder for me to understand… but i already knew that. i always knew that i was different from everybody else, i guess i just thought i was weird, because that’s what people had told me my whole life.
if i’m being honest, it took me awhile to really accept my diagnosis… i mean, i was a teenager, it was covid and i was struggling with zoom calls and isolation. i barely knew who i was and now i needed to figure out who i was as a teenager with autism.
i had so many questions, yet i wasn’t ready for the answers. imagine finding out that there was an actual reason why you acted the way you did — like, a medical reason. what would you do with that kind of information?
it took me a while to be able to talk about my diagnosis. three years ago, i never would have imagined i would be sharing my story and owning my weirdness!
it wasn’t easy. i was bullied all through elementary school, to the point where i even had to change schools. it seemed like no matter where i went there was this invisible barrier between me and everyone else. i thought that if i could just figure out what i was doing wrong and fix it, i would be accepted. after seven years of torment, i decided to confront a group of girls who bullied me. i needed to understand what was so awful about the way i acted that made them decide to make my life miserable? i had been searching for an answer, a profound reason, and all i got was that i acted weird. lucky for me, i left those experiences behind as i came to realize that they were the issue, and not me. high school opened a new world, and i found a group of friends that i can be myself around without fear of judgement.
i am now able to look back at my childhood and laugh.
how is it that no one noticed? how did i go through all of elementary school, and even an evaluation with a neuropsychologist for adhd, without anyone realizing that there was more to it?