In a World of Horses, Be a Zebra

 

Growing up, I always had this feeling that I didn’t quite belong—like there was something different about me that I couldn’t put into words. I wanted so badly to fit in, to be like everyone else, to be the horse running in the same direction as the herd. But no matter how hard I tried, it never felt right. It wasn’t until recently that I realized: I was never meant to be a horse. I’m a zebra. And I believe Carson is too.

I think back to all the times I tried to hide the “weird” parts of myself, whether it was stimming in private or struggling with routines that everyone else seemed to breeze through. I masked those parts of myself, hoping no one would notice. I didn’t want to stand out or draw attention to the fact that I wasn’t quite like everyone else. But masking came at a cost. I wasn’t being true to myself, and that made me feel even more lost, like I was trying to live someone else’s life.

When I found out I was autistic, everything suddenly made sense. It was like I finally saw my stripes. All those years I spent trying to be a horse—trying to blend in, trying to be “normal”—when all along, I was a zebra, and that was okay. But unmasking isn’t easy. Even now, I worry about judgment, about not being accepted for who I truly am. I think about all the ways I’ve been holding myself back, out of fear that people won’t like the real me.

Then there’s Carson. He’s navigating his own world, a world that often expects him to be a horse. I see him trying so hard, but I know he’s different—like me. I see him struggle with things that others find easy, like hugging people when he doesn’t want to, or only eating certain foods. He’s doing his best, but I worry about how the world will treat him. Will people see his stripes the way I do? Or will they expect him to hide them, like I once did?

Raising him has taught me a lot about myself. I see so much of my younger self in him, the way he tries to fit into molds that aren't made for him. And every time I encourage him to embrace who he is, to be proud of his stripes, I’m reminding myself to do the same. It’s a process—this journey to authenticity—but I want Carson to know that being a zebra is beautiful. It’s okay to stand out, to be different, to live life in a way that feels right for you.

For so long, I felt like I had to hide. But now I’m learning that there’s strength in being true to yourself, in letting your stripes show. It’s not always easy, especially in a world that’s more comfortable with horses than zebras. But maybe the world needs more zebras. Maybe we need to create spaces where we can embrace what makes us unique instead of trying to fit in. Maybe it’s time for all of us to let our stripes shine.