Autism: Different, not less.

If you met me in preschool, you probably wouldn’t have known I was autistic. If you met me in school whether it be primary or high, you probably wouldn’t have known I was autistic. If you saw me now at university, you probably wouldn’t know I was autistic. If you met me for the first time, you wouldn’t know I was autistic.

You would see a young girl who smiled the way I was supposed to, laughed when everyone else laughed, obeyed societal norms and did her best to fit in. The girl who did everything in her power to feel “normal” and not behave in a way that was seen as weird or abnormal or oddly different. What people wouldn’t have seen and will continue not to see was and is how exhausted I am from pretending to fit in every single day. The idea of trying to fit into a small box to look like everyone else. It was almost like a game in my head. I had to act like everyone else, so I didn’t lose or get out of the game.

For most of my childhood to early adulthood I felt different and out of place but until my diagnosis of autism I had no clue why. It felt and continues to feel like everyone around me has a guidebook on how to live their lives and how to be human and how to behave, but somewhere along the way someone forgot to give me the guidebook, so I had to make my own one up to look like everyone else. So, I tried to watch people, gain knowledge on how to act and behave and how I came across to others. I copied others and began acting like them, hoping that it would make me feel better and finally I would fit in. But it never did.

Every day felt like I was in a play performing a life of someone who wasn’t me. I didn’t feel able to be the true me. The world felt unbearably loud and I couldn’t cope and couldn’t understand why I felt like this, why I couldn’t just be like everyone else. I often sat and wondered what was wrong with me and why my brain was like this.

Why could I not do things that others could so easily? Why did the school uniform irritate me and not them? Why were the lights and the noise unbearable to me but they didn’t even notice it? Why am I like this?

The hardest part wasn’t that I felt different, it was the fact that I had to hide who I wanted to me – the real me.

Then came the day I was diagnosed with autism… I was 12.

From that first moment I was told, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, the world went quiet. I felt relieved. I had an explanation. I had answers. I wasn’t failing at being normal and most definitely there is nothing wrong with me. My brain is simply wired differently. I was never broken; I was just autistic. And that is a HUGE difference.

Today, I am still learning how to fully accept myself. Some days are harder than others and some are so much easier. Autism is a part of me. It makes me who I am. For years, I went on to pretend to be someone I wasn’t and so now I spend my time learning to be my true authentic self – flaws and all.

To every other undiagnosed or diagnosed autistic girl no matter what age who feels invisible and who doesn’t feel listened to, who feels alone and misunderstood: I see you. You belong exactly as you are and you and all you are is more than ENOUGH and good enough for those who truly love you 😊

More on autism from MindMate