Revealing Me

 I spent most of my life not knowing I was autistic. I just thought I was different. I didn't have the words to explain why certain things overwhelmed me to the point that I would short circuit. or why it constantly felt like I was on a different "radio frequency" than everyone else, no matter how hard I tried I was always saying the wrong thing. I will always be slightly socially awkward. Fitting in for me  feels kind of like wearing clothes two sizes too small- uncomfortable, and wrong. I masked my quirks, my stims, and the little things that made me me because I thought I had to. I thought blending in was the only way to survive.

As a child, I hid my stimming and tried to suppress behaviors that others might find "odd." I didn't want to be the one who stood out, even though I felt like I was constantly on the outside looking in. I struggled with things that seemed easy for others- following routines, memorizing steps, and understanding social cues. I pushed through it all wearing a mask of "normalcy" that left me exhausted. I even created "scripts" I follow in social situations, my therapist pointed it out to me. It's tied to navigating situations where social cues felt unclear or overwhelming. Scripts offer me predictability, allowing me to feel more in control and prepared. If you pay close enough attention to me, you'll see, I have many, many scripts. 

When I got my diagnosis, it was like finding a missing piece of a puzzle I didn't know I was solving. I felt relief, validation, and a massive wave of grief all at once. Relief because I finally had an answer. Grief because I wondered how my life might have been if I had known sooner. 

Unmasking hasn't been easy. There are still moments when I fear judgment or even rejection. But Calvin has been my anchor. He reminds me daily that I don't have to hide anymore. He supports me as I rediscover who I am beneath the mask and encourages me to embrace my true self, quirks and all. His acceptance gives me the strength to show up authentically, even when it's hard. 

This journey has also shaped how I parent. I see pieces of me in Carson, especially in his sensory experiences and the amount of empathy he has for inanimate objects. I advocate fiercely for his right to express himself in his own way, just as I'm learning to do for myself. My journey with autism has taught me that being different isn't something to hide, it's something to honor. 

There have been challenges, and tears- navigating societal expectations, handling sensory overload, and confronting internalized beliefs about who I should be. But there have also been triumphs. Every time I choose authenticity over masking, I'm winning. Every time I let myself stim freely or advocate for Carson's boundaries, I'm breaking free from what once held me back.

I'm still on this journey, I always will be. I am learning, growing, and unmasking one day at a time. While it's not always easy, it's worth it. If you're on a similar path, know that you're not alone. Embrace your journey, your quirks, and your truth. You deserve to be seen just as you are.