I mean, how was I supposed to know, when we as a society don’t really talk about autism? And when we do, it’s generally stories of tragedy and stigma, or judging the validity of someone’s autism because they don’t look or behave a particular way. Even most information online about autism is shrouded in shame, with negative language and the belief that we need to be changed.
Autism isn’t a bad thing: it’s a beautiful thing. And my diagnosis after regularly seeing a psychologist has changed my life because, finally, I understand. It feels like everything makes sense, especially when I look back at my childhood and teenage years, and realize why certain things were so hard for me. It’s an enormous relief. I wasn’t too much. I wasn’t too sensitive. I wasn’t too weak. I wasn’t overreacting. I was just different, and that isn’t a bad thing.
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