Internalized ableism is something that most, if not all, disabled, chronically ill, & neurodivergent people have experienced. But, first of all... What IS Ableism? Ableism is the discrimination of & the social prejudice against people with disabilities based on the belief that "typical abilities" are superior. Examples Of Ableist Comments About Autism & Autistic People:
Sadly, several of the above comments are said to me on a consistent basis. A few of them many, many years before I even knew I was autistic. And I have no choice but to take it. Hearing those things hurts. It really, really hurts. Examples Of Ableist Quotes By Temple Grandin, The "Face" Of Autism:
Now that we know what ableism is...
What IS Internalized Ableism? Internalized ableism is when people with disabilities absorb & believe the negative stereotypes & prejudices society holds about them. Examples Of Internalized Ableism For Autistic People:
ALL except for three of the above statements are true for me, in my experience of growing up autistic, & BEING AUTISTIC. This is one reason why it is so important to be kind & to not use ableist language. Your words really, truly matter. A LOT.
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Temple Grandin, that is. When many autistic people disclose that they are autistic, a common question they receive is, "Have you heard of Temple Grandin?" If you don't know who Temple Grandin is, she is an American animal science professor, public speaker, & author who is widely thought of as the "face" of autism. So, when many people think of autism or autistic people, they think of her. This is why many autistic people are asked if they have heard of her when they first disclose that they are autistic. When I was asked this question, I had not heard of her, probably because this was towards the beginning of my autistic journey of self-discovery. All of the literature I was choosing to read were written by women in their thirties & forties. Women who were much closer in age to me & therefore, their life experiences were very relatable to mine. Temple is in her seventies, so I know her life experiences are drastically different from mine growing up. However, as time went on, I have learned more & more about her & now I can tell you that there is so much about her that just doesn't sit right with me. Many other autistic people look up to her & call her a "hero" or an "inspiration," & this may surprise you, but Temple Grandin most certainly isn't a hero of mine. Before I tell you why that is, I would like to tell you about the positive things Temple Grandin has done for the autistic community.
Why Temple Grandin Isn't My Hero:
While, yes, Temple Grandin, one of the first openly autistic people, has done many great things for the autistic community, she will most certainly NOT be my hero until she changes her ableist views about autistic people. Throughout this blog, I have briefly mentioned how harmful ABA therapy is to autistic people, but I haven't gone into a whole lot of detail regarding what ABA therapy actually is & WHY it's such a problem. So, I'd like to take a moment right now to talk about that. Now, I'm gonna be upfront with you by telling you that I'm absolutely no ABA expert & I've had to do a lot of research in order to have enough content to write about in this blog post. What IS ABA Therapy? ABA stands for "applied behavior analysis" & simply put, it is a behavioral therapy specifically designed for autistic children. The History Of ABA Therapy: The Lovaas Method, later known as Applied Behavior Analysis, was developed by a man named Dr. Ole’ Ivar Lovaas in the 1960s. The premise was to use behaviorism to "treat" autistic individuals. ABA therapy focuses purely on behaviors with a goal to make the autistic child "indistinguishable from peers." When Dr. Ole’ Ivar Lovaas was practicing ABA therapy, he used rewards for desirable behaviors, as well as abusive punishments (including electric shock) for undesirable behaviors. The Problems With ABA Therapy:
There is SO MUCH controversy regarding ABA therapy in the autism community. While the majority of autistic individuals passionately dislike every aspect of this type of therapy & speak out against it; their parents, their teachers, & their medical professionals often disagree; calling it a miracle that "cured" their child of her or his autism or made significant improvements to their child's autism. Well, that simply isn't the case at all. And this is why.
What Is Autistic Masking, Anyway? Autistic masking, otherwise known as camouflaging, is sometimes used by autistic people to disguise or minimize specific autistic traits or behaviors in social situations. Why Do Some Autistic People Mask? Some reasons autistic people might mask include, but are not limited to:
Who Masks? While any autistic person may mask, it is more likely for autistic people to mask if they:
What Are Some Examples Of Masking?
What Are The Consequences Of Masking?
Masking & Me:
Ways I Masked Growing Up:
Ways I Mask As An Adult:
One of the last things I learned about when I became aware that I am, in fact, autistic, are the problems autistic people have with self-care. Now, I can tell you that in some ways, being as germaphobic as I am is a real blessing because that is why many of these self-care tasks actually get completed. If I wasn't so finicky about cleanliness, being a hygienic person would be much more of a problem for me. All my adult life, I have had to complete self-care tasks in a certain way in order for them to get done at all, or in order for them to get done in a timely manner, depending on what the task is. I know that if you are an allistic, or a non-autistic person, you are probably wondering what exactly makes self-care so difficult. This is why.
Let's take a moment now to talk about various self-care tasks.
Showering 🚿 Steps Involved:
That is over SIXTY steps (because some of these steps are actually two or three steps) that need to be completed in order to take a shower every night. Doing that EVERY single NIGHT is EXHAUSTING. I take a shower immediately after dinner every single night in order to ensure that my shower is completed in a timely fashion. If I didn't do that autistic inertia would get in my way. I don't use a hair dryer, so I like to shower several hours before going to bed. I don't use a hair dryer because:
The other night, my mom came knocking on the door after I had already taken my clothes off because she had taken her glasses off & couldn't remember where she put them. And she couldn't see to find them. She wanted ME to find them for her of course. I told her I couldn't because I had already taken my clothes off in preparation for my shower. Putting my clothes back on after I had taken them off just wasn't possible due to my executive functioning difficulties & autistic inertia. Asking a neurotypical person to do this might annoy her or him, but for an autistic person like myself, putting my clothes back on after I had taken them off would make it so my shower take many more hours to get completed. And following the routine of getting my shower done by a certain time is EXTREMELY important to me. If I wasn't so germaphobic, my shower might not get done at all with such an interruption, but I have certain rules that I follow. They are:
If my dad hadn't been home & able to find my mom's glasses for her, I know this would've turned into an ugly fight. The entire mindset of not being able to put clothes back on after taking them off is a foreign concept for neurotypical people & is one of the many things that make living in a neurotypical world so stressful & so frustrating. Especially when those people just tell me I'm strange & they don't take the time to understand the way I live or WHY I do the things I do. By the way, my mom's glasses ended up being in her bathrobe pocket, a location I would've NEVER looked in, even if I HAD tried to find them. Childhood Difficulties: Growing up, my dad continued to wash my hair in the kitchen sink until a very old age because I just couldn't tolerate doing it on my own. My mom told the neuropsychiatrist who evaluated me for autism that washing my hair when I was a child was incredibly difficult because I would scream if even one droplet of water made it into my eye. Eventually, my parents forced me to wash my own hair in the shower & that was so, so, SO HARD. And it caused so many fights & so many meltdowns. Putting my head under the shower water felt no different than as if someone was pouring rubbing alcohol over my head. And then it seeped under my eyelashes & into my eyes despite the fact my eyes were squeezed shut. No joke. As time went on, I came up with the coping mechanism of using a face cloth to shield my face from the water & that is something I still use to this day. This is why I decided to call my blog Splashed With Water. I talk more about it in my first blog post, if you would like to go back & read it. Rather than boring you, by giving you the step-by-step breakdown of the rest of the self-care tasks, I'll just talk briefly about the following: Dressing 👚 I have to get dressed the second I wake up because with autistic inertia, it will get to be two o'clock in the afternoon & I'll STILL be in my pajamas. Brushing Teeth 🪥 Until I was in middle school or high school, I used a children's strawberry-flavored toothpaste. My mom forced me to change to a normal "adult" toothpaste at some point around the teenage years. Because it's what normal people use. Until I got more used to it, the minty flavor made it feel like my mouth was literally on fire. 🔥 And I just had to live with it. When I was talking about this during my autism evaluation, my evaluating neuropsychiatrist asked me why I couldn't use a non-mint flavored toothpaste. My response? My mom told me I had to use mint because that's what EVERYONE uses, that's what "normal" people use. I always felt like I was abnormal & needed to force myself to be "normal" in order to be accepted. And my efforts didn't work because I STILL wasn't accepted. I still can't use mouthwash, even though my dentist recommends it because the mint is too strong & it burns my mouth. Mint is a flavor that autistic people tend to be way oversensitive to. Now it all makes sense to me, but my mom still makes fun of me because I adamantly dislike mint-flavored anything, including ice cream & chocolate. How could someone dislike certain flavors of ice cream & chocolate? 🤷🏻♀️ Using The Toilet 🚽 Due to autistic inertia & executive functioning difficulties, I have great difficulty getting up to use the toilet if I'm not already in the standing position, so if I happen to be in the standing position, I literally act like it's a bathroom emergency when it isn't because I know that if I didn't do that, I'm not going to use the bathroom until I take a shower that night, many hours later. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but it's absolutely true. When I was a child, I wouldn't flush the toilet after using it because I was completely terrified of the sound it made. I also wouldn't use the bathroom if my mom happened to be doing laundry at that time. The spontaneous & LOUD sound that the washer & dryer made would scare the living daylights out of me! A good night's rest is imperative for a person's health & wellbeing & I'm sure you know what I mean when I say that you just feel better when you're well-rested. However, this is MUCH easier said than done, especially when you're autistic. Being autistic is downright exhausting, so autistic people generally need more sleep than their neurotypical counterparts do. But, at the same time, sleep problems are very common in autistic individuals. This cycle is endless & a perfect example of that is the fact that it is after 1:30 in the morning as I am typing this. Bedtime procrastination is something that is very common with us autistics & it is something that I struggle with SO much. But, that is something I'll get to on another day. So, let's take this time to talk about autism sleep statistics:
When you get an illness or a disease, you begin to not feel like yourself. You're tired, grouchy, feverish, achy, congested, maybe you've got a runny nose, etc. Then you rest, take medicine, hydrate, & do whatever else you need to do in order to feel better. The ways you aren't yourself are known as symptoms & once the symptoms are gone, you're all better. Many people think that autism works similarly, so they call our autistic characteristics symptoms. However, autism isn't an illness or a disease, but it is a neurotype, or a difference in how the brain works. No autistic person could sleep enough or take any medication that would cause her or his autism to go away. In fact, the majority of autistic people feel the most like themselves when they are exhibiting their autistic traits. So, if you were to take away their autism, they would NO LONGER be themselves. However, unlike the majority of autistic people, I personally want my autism to go away. I dislike every aspect of myself that is related to me being autistic because it is SO disabling. And it makes me unable to achieve the things in life that my allistic, or non-autistic counterparts have achieved many, MANY years ago. Being financially secure, having a close circle of people who care about me, getting married, having a family, living a happy & fulfilling life, & more. The goal for the majority of autistic people isn't to remove autism & using words like symptoms to describe us being us makes it feel like that is the goal. We refer to our autistic characteristics as traits so we don't feel like we, ourselves are an illness or a disease.
For me personally, while I do wish I could remove the autistic part of myself, I refer to my autistic characteristics as traits. As much as I want to remove the autism, I know that no matter what I do, I won't be able to remove it. You can remove symptoms, but you can't remove traits. So, the next time you are describing autism, please use the word "traits" instead of the word "symptoms." WELCOME to the first Autism Acceptance Month blog post of 2024! Today, I wanted to take a few steps back & go over some autism terms & what they mean. I use many of these terms throughout my blog & I try to provide definitions as I write. It's always good to take the time to pause & review what some of these terms mean though. And there's no better time to do that than when we're kicking off Autism Acceptance Month! Important Autism Terms & Definitions:
Happy first day of Autism Acceptance Month & Happy April Fools Day (a day that is surely hated by the majority of the autistic community for obvious reasons)! But, today is special for another reason, too— it's Splashed With Water's 1st birthday! I began this blog as a way to spread awareness & acceptance of autism in my community & beyond; launching it on April 1, 2023 as a way to kickstart my first-ever Autism Acceptance Month with a BANG! I wrote precisely eighty blog posts over the last year, so I thought a fun way to celebrate Splashed With Water's 1st birthday would be with blog superlatives. After today, I'll do my very, very best to write about a different Autism Acceptance related topic most days of the month. That's what Autism Acceptance Month is all about after all, right?! Thank you so much for spending your time, hanging out with me, in my little corner of the internet, as I like to call it! 💕 Blog Superlatives:
I am typically reminded several times a week that I am autistic. What I mean by that is things are constantly happening in my life that I know wouldn't happen if I was allistic, or if I wasn't autistic. When these things happen to me, I tend to say in my head, "[This particular thing] happened because I'm autistic." & then I feel all sad & mopey on the inside. I really wish it wasn't this way because it's part of what makes being autistic feel so disabling. But, I blog about my life. And this is the type of thing I deal with every day. This my real life that I'm sharing with you, so here we go. This is the story of how purchasing a new winter coat reminded me that I am in fact, autistic. All winter long, the threads in my winter coat have been repeatedly breaking, leaving large gaping holes behind. Rather than continuously repairing the damage, I decided that it was time for a new coat. This coat is very old, anyway. The best time to purchase a winter coat is at the end of the season, when everything is on clearance, so now is the PERFECT time for a new one. The task of purchasing a new coat that I will wear almost daily for almost half the year is overwhelming to say the least, especially for an autistic person such as myself. These are the three main reasons why:
The Return Process:
This is where it gets really complicated. I purchased these two coats from Walmart's online marketplace. So, it wasn't actually Walmart who I bought the coats from, but I could return it there. I kept the deep purple coat in my car for about a week & a half, so that I wouldn't have to remember about it on the day I actually needed it. Walmart is a close drive for me, but one of my dog walking clients lives less than two miles from Walmart, so I wanted to return this coat on a day that I didn't have to go anywhere after walking this particular client's dog. It took twelve days before I had time to go to Walmart after walking this client's dog. My entire life is based around doing things in the most efficient manner, so that whatever I do outside of my home takes up the least amount of time possible. Because of my depleted energy levels, as well as my executive function difficulties, doing all my errands on a single day when I'm already in the area for another reason (such as visiting a client's dog or cat) is what works best for me. Anyway, after parking my car, I took the deep purple coat (still in the bag it was shipped in), into Walmart & found the customer service desk. The older woman who helped me was incredibly grouchy. Right away, she complained about the size of the coat (what winter coat isn't large?!) & to be completely honest, I was pretty intimidated & frightened by her. I showed her the barcode on my phone that was connected to the coat I wanted to return & she scanned it. But, I was really confused because she kept making comments about how the coat I was returning wasn't red. I never purchased or received any red coats, so I had no idea what she was talking about. I was scared of her though, so I just let her do her thing & I didn't speak up. She printed out a receipt with the coat's tracking number on it & the amount that I would be refunded. I looked the receipt over as I was walking away because I never trust that people are doing their jobs correctly. I was glad that I checked because the refund she issued me was for the incorrect amount. The coat I was returning was $5 more than the coat I was keeping. And the refund I received was for the coat that was at home! I went back to the customer service counter to ask her about it & she told me that the coat I gave her wasn't red. It was then that I realized why she had been talking about a red coat. 💡 The packing slip inside the shipping bag said that I purchased a red coat & a purple coat. Red wasn't even a color option for the coat I had purchased. I was SO confused by this! ⁉️ I had never even looked at the packing slip because I received exactly what I ordered. The woman returned the purple coat (which was at home) because the coat I gave her wasn't red. When I showed her the picture of the coat on my phone with the price I paid for it, she yelled at me & told me I should've shown her that from the very beginning. I thought I did though because I showed her the barcode, which she scanned & I would think that the barcode would tell the customer service person which coat I was returning & how much to refund. ⁉️⁉️ The only reason I didn't question the customer service woman originally was because I was intimidated & scared. I have lived my entire life having to endure pervasive mistreatment from everyone around me & I am quite certain that it has caused post-traumatic stress disorder, something that more than 40% of autistic individuals struggle with. The reason I didn't speak up was because I was simply autistic & afraid. In the end, a much kinder & younger woman (who was also working behind the customer service desk) called the seller I had purchased the coats from to get the remaining $5 refunded. Going to the store to return something is such a simple task, but being autistic turned it into such a big headache. And it was all because the person helping me wasn't kind. This is something that could've been avoided completely if the person helping me had exhibited kindness & had not been so intimidating. This is the type of thing that I deal with on a daily basis because I am living with autism. For those of you who are also autistic, I hope this story helps you feel less alone. And for those of you who are allistic, I hope this story helps illustrate how difficult it is to be an autistic woman living in a neurotypical world. 💙 The saying, "Everyone's Irish on Saint Patrick's Day!" is something I've never understood. 🍀 Like many American households, every year on March 17th, my family has corned beef & cabbage for dinner. A dish my mom has forced me to eat on this particular day ever since I was a little girl that I can barely manage to stomach. Corned beef is pretty terrible itself, but the cabbage is even worse because I can't eat it without feeling sick. Autistic people tend to be finicky eaters, often being overly sensitive to the textures & the flavors of the food they eat. This has been an uphill battle that I have been fighting my whole life. I had a disagreement with my mom about my feelings regarding corned beef & cabbage last year. "Why do we have to eat corned beef & cabbage on Saint Patrick's Day if we're NOT Irish?" I said to her. "But, we ARE Irish because everyone is Irish on Saint Patrick's Day!" my mom exclaimed. "If everyone is Irish on Saint Patrick's Day, then how come everyone isn't Asian on the Lunar New Year?" I asked, truly curious. I love the Lunar New Year because it means eating delicious dumplings & noodles, celebrating my Chinese heritage, & dressing my dog up in a fancy silk Chinese jacket. "Because being Asian isn't fun. If you're not Irish on Saint Patrick's Day, you're not American." my mom said to me. I knew my mom was right because most people don't think being Asian is fun. We're discriminated against, too. "Well, then I guess I'm not American," I said glumly. I was hurt by this because I've always been proud to be an American. But, how does being American require me to be Irish on Saint Patrick's Day if I'm not Irish? I'm autistic, which means I am literal & I just don't understand how someone can be Irish on one particular day of the year if (s)he isn't actually Irish. 🤷🏻♀️ When you think of Saint Patrick's Day, you probably think of glittered shamrocks 🍀, green beer 🍻, green rivers, leprechauns, &, of course, corned beef & cabbage. Well, what if I told you that if you were actually in Ireland on Saint Patrick's Day 🇮🇪, you wouldn't see ANY of those things, except for maybe the glittered shamrocks? Yes, this is absolutely true. To begin, leprechauns are not cute, jolly, friendly cereal box characters that we all imagine that they are. But, they are mischievous, nasty little fellows that Irish people do not want partaking in their Saint Patrick's Day festivities. And just as much as the Irish would not pollute their beer or their rivers with green dye, they would not eat corned beef & cabbage, especially on Saint Patrick’s Day.
The History Of Corned Beef & Cabbage: In Ireland 🇮🇪, cows 🐮 have always been a symbol of wealth & were considered a sacred animal. In fact, from early on in Irish history, cattle were not used for their meat, but they were used for milk & dairy production & farming. Because they were so sacred & expensive, cows were only killed for their meat if they were too old to work or to produce milk. So, beef is not part of the diet for the majority of the Irish population & is typically only enjoyed by the very wealthy during a celebration or festival. In both historic & in modern Ireland, pigs are the most prevalent animal bred only to be eaten, so pork is the most eaten meat in Ireland. When the Irish immigrated to the United States, they often faced discrimination & lived in slums with the Jews & the Italians. In contrast to in Ireland, beef was inexpensive in the United States. When the Irish immigrants first tasted corned beef at Jewish delis, they noticed its similarity to Irish bacon. They paired it with cabbage for its cost efficiency. So, eating corned beef & cabbage is NOT an Irish tradition. It is an Irish immigrant tradition that was created right here, in America when Irish immigrants substituted beef for pork & cabbage for potatoes because of its affordability. Some Fun Saint Patrick's Day Facts:
Side Note: Until I sat down to write this blog post, I didn't know any of the above facts with the exception of the corned beef & cabbage one. For YEARS, I have tried to convince my mom to forgo the dreadful corned beef & cabbage meal because it isn't actually an Irish tradition, but sadly, it has never worked. 🤷🏻♀️ So, whether you're Irish on Saint Patrick's Day or you're Irish the whole year through, Happy Saint Patrick's Day! And if you're NOT Irish on Saint Patrick's Day or on any other day of the year, I feel your pain. 💚 The words above were the words my grandfather, who I call Gung-Gung, was screaming as he was sitting in the phlebotomy chair earlier this week. Let's back up for a moment, so I can fill you in on what happened. I take my Gung-Gung to his blood test appointment every month. When I brought him in last month & his phlebotomist, Lindsey, told me that she was leaving, my heart sank. Yes, autistic people have difficulty dealing with change & transitions, but this was absolutely NOT why this was so upsetting to me. Lindsey is the main person who has taken my Gung-Gung's blood ever since he moved to Shrewsbury in 2021. But, not only that, she seems to be the only person who is capable of taking his blood. No joke. His veins aren't great, plus his skin is super crepey & wrinkly. She is really, REALLY good at her job, but not only that, she is really, REALLY good to him, too. Without her, what would I do?! Since I'm the one who takes my Gung-Gung for his blood test every month, this was MY problem. The last time Lindsey wasn't there (this past December), my Gung-Gung's blood test was a complete nightmare. This is what happened:
This is what happened when I took my Gung-Gung to his blood test earlier this week:
That day was so incredibly stressful. Caregiving is HARD WORK. Caregiving while you have a significant disability such as autism is even HARDER WORK. Autism impairs our communication abilities, our processing speed, our ability to multitask, & more. All of those skills are needed when you care for someone, especially someone who isn't able to care for him/herself. Later on, when I told my mom what had happened at the blood test, she told me that I was really lucky that I was able to convince the phlebotomist to draw his blood. And she was right. He was screaming, "No!" & I don't have medical say over him. But, we're there every month for the same thing, I know the phlebotomist, I know what he needs, & I know the best way to advocate for him. (In fact, there are times where I feel like I'm better able to advocate for my Gung-Gung than I'm able to advocate for myself.) Those weren't things that were easy for me to learn when my grandparents first moved to Shrewsbury, but I did it. And I'm so glad I did because it's giving me precious moments with my Gung-Gung that I'll have forever. 💙 Let's start March off by looking back on everything that was covered during the months of January & February. Also, if you are new here, WELCOME! I am so glad to have you here! 💕 January's Blog Topics:
February's Blog Topics:
Since Valentine's Day was earlier this week, I wanted to write about love, experiencing it, expressing it, & how it looks differently for autistic people than it looks for allistic, or non-autistic people. But, before we begin... What IS Love? Love is a complex mix of emotions that is everyone in the world experiences, whether they are neurodivergent or neurotypical, autistic or allistic, disabled or non-disabled, etc. It is associated with certain behaviors & strong feelings of affection, protectiveness, warmth, & respect for other people (e.g. family, friends, romantic partners, etc.), animals, principles, interests, hobbies, &/or religious beliefs. How Autistic People Experience Love: Widespread stereotypes suggest that autistic people are incapable of feeling love, romantic or otherwise. However, the reality is that autistic people experience love quite intensely (often much more intensely than allistic people). Interestingly, brain scans of autistic people show that when we express feeling love & affection for someone, different areas of the brain are activated than for allistic people. The empathy circuitry of the brain is also working differently. We, autistic people, are typically extremely attached to our close relationships, often more so than allistic people are. This is because we usually have significantly less people that we are close to than allistic people do. Like allistic people, we have a deep desire for those types of relationships, making the close relationships we do have so much more important to us. With this being said, it is important to remember that autism is a spectrum. So, autistic people experience & express love in unique ways that can vary quite drastically from each other. Our experiences & expressions of love are greatly influenced by our individual strengths, challenges, & sensory sensitivities. How Autistic People Express Love: While autistic people feel love & empathy very intensely, often much more intensely than you do, it may be very difficult or impossible for us to express our love & empathy for you in ways that make you feel loved & cared about. Some ways that we express our love include:
Many autistic people experience what is called "limerence." This is when the person we are romantically interested in becomes a special interest. We fixate on every aspect of their being, want to learn about all of their favorite things, or start to picture the rest of our lives with them after just a few (maybe even one) interaction(s). This can sometimes lead to a devastating end when the effort isn't reciprocated or worse, we can't see that it isn't being reciprocated. Tips For Loving An Autistic Person:
Benefits Of Loving An Autistic Person:
A Few Other Things To Remember:
With today being the Lunar New Year (the year of the dragon!), I just wanted spend this blog post telling you about Asian culture & autism. My mom's side of the family is of Chinese descent & while I definitely have had an American upbringing, Asian culture has had great influence over the way I was raised. In the Asian culture, you are taught from a very young age that all of your personal difficulties are to remain inside of the home. In fact, if you were to be open about your challenges in public, you would likely be thought of as a disgrace. Unfortunately, the majority of Asian Americans still have this mindset to this day. One of the times my mom taught me about this was when she talked to me about hiding the bottles of antidepressants that I was taking before my grandparents arrived for a visit (particularly because of my grandpa's background in pharmacology) in order to prevent questioning & criticism. Moments like these are probably why I have always been more comfortable confiding in my dad than my mom, both as a child & as an adult. I have always felt like the fact that I have had lifelong mental health difficulties, & now autism, is something to be ashamed of because in the Asian culture it is. Another example of this occurred many, many years ago when my grandparents took my mom & my aunt on a tour of China. I remember my mom telling me that everyone wanted to take pictures with a person in their tour group who was using crutches. The reason why? If you're using crutches or a wheelchair in China, you generally don't leave your home. So, that's not something you ever see out on public streets. Asian Americans love to pride themselves in (& even brag about) which colleges & universities they got into & their SAT scores & then later on, how successful their careers are. I remember my grandma telling me about a time in school when she cried (something I have never seen her do EVER) because she got a 98 on a test. I can't picture myself ever crying over a 98. In Asia, when students don't do well on a test, even if it was the entire class that didn't do well, it is never the teacher's fault. It is never because the teacher didn't teach the material well enough or the test was written poorly, for example. It is always because the student didn't study hard enough. When a child has a disability that makes achieving the types of academic & professional successes that Asian people strive for much more difficult, such as autism, it poses a very significant problem for the child & her or his family. Asian Americans don't have any issues asking for help when it comes to furthering their child's academics or career, but when it comes to autism, they tend to refuse help & then the child is left to suffer alone, in silence. When children are diagnosed with autism in China, they are often sent to costly private treatment centers for ABA therapy. However, while this type of therapy is the most common type of therapy for autistic children, it is an extremely traumatic type of conversion "therapy" that essentially teaches autistic children to act in ways that make allistic, or non-autistic people more comfortable. Children who have received this type of therapy often develop post traumatic stress disorder by the time they reach adulthood.
Sadly, autism is still a relatively new condition in the Asian community, with China first recognizing it as a neurological disability as recently as 2006. In fact, many Asians have heard about autistic non-Asians, but they've never encountered an autistic Asian before. This is because less than one percent of autistic Asians have been evaluated for autism, let alone are receiving support for it. The thought that ninety-nine percent of autistic Asians are undiagnosed is quite staggering. Asians are likely not diagnosed with autism because they are afraid of being a disappointment, something I felt that I was until shortly before my thirty-second birthday, when I learned that I was autistic. I'm going to start this blog post off by saying this: this is the most vulnerable blog post I have written thus far. Some things that are in it are things that I've mentioned before & some things aren't. But, everything in this post is as real & as raw as it gets, is one-thousand percent true, & is something that I felt needed to be said. Growing up, & even now, my life was & is a struggle. I was autistic & I didn't know it for almost thirty-two years because I grew up at a time when girls like me were just not diagnosed with autism. I was living in a world that I didn't fit into, but I had no understanding as to why that was until about a year & a half ago. I was so lucky because my parents did everything they could to give me the BEST childhood ever. And I'm so thankful for that. However, there were certain things that no matter how loving & how supportive my parents were, they just couldn't protect me from. Every autistic person you talk to will have something to tell you about how society treats her or him; about the trauma that (s)he endures on a daily basis. The way neurotypical people treat us does real, long-lasting harm. I never understood why people treated me so poorly because I didn't think I did anything wrong. Were they treating me that way because I simply exist? Probably. The bullying I experienced in elementary school through college was INTENSE, & it only worsened the older I got. From being made fun of for being too quiet to having my feet walked on top of on a daily basis to being barked at & growled at like an angry dog to boys trying to trip me in the hall & slapping my butt when I was at my locker. Freshman year in college, they put me into a quad with another Shrewsbury alum who inserted nasty things about me into the brain of another one of my roommates. They ganged up against me & made my life a living hell for the entire year. A couple years later, a different roommate suddenly gave me the silent treatment & I had no idea why, until one of her friends told me. It was because I was uncomfortable with boys sleeping over in our room, something that I thought was perfectly reasonable, especially for a quiet & a timid girl like myself. I was never given the chance to make any sort of compromise because she never told me why she was so mad. Many years later, I found out that this particular roommate now has an autistic child. What a coincidence! Being treated with such cruelty on a daily basis for so many years is extremely traumatic for us. And it often has the same types of consequences on our brains as going to war, witnessing someone get murdered, or having an abusive spouse would. It just takes a much longer amount of time to do the same amount of damage. More than 40% of autistic individuals struggle with post-traumatic stress disorder & although I have never been diagnosed, I do think I am one of them. I think that the effects of having to endure the type of treatment I described above for so many years is why it takes me such a long time to trust someone, even now, as an adult. I also never really voiced the significant amount of pain I was experiencing to my parents because I didn't want to worry them. So, I didn't get as much support as I probably needed while I was going through that. I knew I have caused them A LOT of worry ever since the day I was born & I didn't want to add to it even more. From a very young age, I wanted to do everything I could to be the best daughter I could be, even if it meant unintentionally harming myself. When I first learned from my physician that the cause of all of my lifelong struggles was due to living with undiagnosed autism, I took a couple of months to process it & to learn more about how autism affects girls & women. But, after I did that, I wanted to do more digging into my past to learn more about how autism affected me as a young child & as an adolescent. I knew that when I was in school, my mom kept a very thick manilla envelope full of documents & letters from various medical professionals & educators. Knowing how organized my mom always was, I asked her if she still had that envelope & she did. This envelope ended up being a treasure box into my past, containing a lot of information, some that I never knew about myself, from when I was less than a year old until I was eighteen years old. One of the things that really stuck out to me was meeting notes from my seventh grade language arts teacher, Peggy. Better expression in written vs. verbal. More sophisticated style of writing. Not good with being caught off guard. Interacts better with adults. Gets frustrated in groups since they are fooling around and she is so concerned with her grades. Kids aren't patient waiting for her to respond. Struggles with reading comprehension. Getting a bit better advocating for herself. ALL autistic traits. Thinking back to seventh grade, I had always thought very highly of Peggy. I wondered if she remembered anything else about me that would be helpful for me to know, going into an autism evaluation. I knew that she no longer worked in the Shrewsbury schools, but teachers' contact information is usually readily available online. I looked Peggy up & I wrote her an email explaining my lifelong difficulties & how they led to an impending autism diagnosis. I attached a scanned copy of the meeting notes to the email, as well. However, since at this time, I had been a student in her classroom just over eighteen years ago & I hadn't seen or spoken to her in at least fifteen years, I had this underlying fear that she wouldn't remember who I was. I felt like I was a fly on the wall in school, barely saying a word & blending in with the background. I knew she'd had a lot of students since then & I thought I was easy to forget. Spilling my guts out to her only for her to not remember me would've been SO utterly embarrassing. This was in early August of 2022, by the way. It was only a couple of days before I heard back from Peggy & I was beyond relieved to know that she absolutely did remember me. Peggy sounded so delighted to hear from me, too. She described me as a very kind, shy, reserved student (with black-framed glasses if I recall correctly), but she admitted that she didn't think she had much more detail to give me. However, she did offer to chat by phone. And I eagerly took her up on that. If we chatted on the phone, I might be able to foster another connection with a caring & a supportive person & I really felt like that was exactly what I needed because like many autistic people, my life was extremely isolating. This blog post is about my interactions with Peggy & how her kindness & her compassion have changed my life. Peggy didn't know this going in, but I had a lot going on in my life at the time I reached out to her, most of it not even having to do with autism. Back in 2015, my maternal grandpa had a debilitating stroke that left one side of his body without feeling & completely took away his ability to process language (this is known as global aphasia). I unfortunately did not grieve the stroke properly & still to this day, I am in denial that it ever happened in the first place. Now that I know I'm autistic, this makes total sense as we do not grieve in the same way that neurotypicals do. My grandma was his devoted caregiver ever since. The year prior to when I connected with Peggy, my grandparents relocated to Shrewsbury from California because my grandma was dying from tongue cancer. She lived here in Shrewsbury for just two & a half months before succumbing to the disease (six months earlier than expected). While I never had much of a relationship with my grandma, watching my grandpa grieve the love of his life for over sixty years & worrying everyday that he would die of a broken heart was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. At the time I had reached out to Peggy, we had recently passed the one-year mark of my grandma's passing. I was also still getting into the groove of being a secondary caregiver to my grandpa. Due to the brain damage caused by his stroke, my grandpa would often say & do things that hurt me tremendously. No matter how much I tried to remind myself that my able-minded grandpa would never say or do such things, I just couldn't get the hurt to go away. This was particularly difficult for me to deal with because my grandpa & I have always been incredibly close. His hurtful actions were a complete one-eighty from how he'd treated me for the first twenty-five years of my life. All of these things would be difficult for anyone to cope with, but when you're autistic, you're handed a plethora of challenges in life that allistic, or non-autistic people have the privilege of never having to experience. And it's those challenges that make dealing with things like this significantly more difficult. Keep in mind that I didn't know that I was autistic when all of the above events actually happened, so I didn't understand why I reacted like this, why I reacted completely differently from the rest of my family. Ever since I was a young child; I have yearned for my grandparents to live close by & I was so, SO happy to finally have that; but now that I did, my life had become a complete circus. It's something you can't understand without living it.
On the autism forefront, just a couple months ago, I had learned that the reason why I have struggled so much throughout my life was because of living with undiagnosed autism. It was the reason why:
That first phone conversation I had with Peggy was a breath of fresh air. Back when I was her student, I remember her being really easy to talk to & that was still the case. I filled her in on a lot of things, many of those things being things that hardly anyone knows about me, things that I'm ashamed of. The fact that I even felt comfortable enough to fill her in on those things speaks volumes about Peggy's character, the person she is; especially since I've always felt like I need to protect myself from people; I've always been afraid to show the real me. The way Peggy reacted to the things I told her was really, really comforting. She really took the time to stop & to listen to what I had to say & she didn't make me feel judged, guilty, or like I had done anything wrong. Every time I mentioned how something made me feel, whether it was a positive or a negative emotion, she validated it. And if she suggested something that I didn't think would work, I would explain why, & that was totally okay with her, too. She also told me how much she admired my courage in reaching out to her & that she was here for me. Having that conversation with Peggy gave me the courage to reach out to many of my other former teachers, as well. And while some of those other teachers gave me much more detailed insight than what Peggy could offer me; a few even telling me that an autism diagnosis would absolutely not surprise them; it was Peggy's kindness, support, time, & most of all, her compassion that made the biggest difference to me. That was what I needed more than anything in the world. As I had other conversations with Peggy later on, she felt that she could no longer offer me the kind of support I needed. Her experience was with adolescents & I was an adult with adult problems looking into adult resources. However, I can tell you that this is absolutely NOT the case at all. I have gone my entire life feeling like when I talk, NO ONE hears me & my feelings don't matter. Sadly, these are commonalities among autistic people. Peggy was the first person I talked to in many, many, many YEARS who really made me feel like she heard what I had to say & she valued my opinion. Plus, she was so, so, SO kind. And she was so incredibly compassionate, too. I have lived a lifetime of people being unkind to me; being critical of everything I do or say, everything I don't do or say, every facial expression I make or don't make. So, it's extra noticeable when someone IS kind; when someone accepts me as I am; when someone ISN'T judgmental; when someone really, truly CARES. When I looked Peggy up to make that first contact & I discovered that she was no longer a language arts teacher, but she was a special education teacher, I wasn't surprised. The notes that she made about me were much more insightful & helpful than the notes I came across from every single one of my other former teachers. Every single one of Peggy's notes was so SPOT ON, about me, AND about an autistic middle school girl. However, after having the interactions with Peggy that I had, I really, truly feel that special education was what she was meant to do with her life; it was her calling. The kids in her classroom are SO lucky to have her. I know she's changing their lives because she's changed mine & it's been twenty years now since I've been her student. (Typing that out makes me feel so old!) More recently, a couple weeks ago, Peggy's mom passed away. When I found out about her family's loss, I knew I needed to go to the visitation. While I've tried to thank Peggy for what she's done for me numerous times before, I didn't think I got my message across effectively enough. There was no better way to thank her, to tell her how much I appreciate her than by going to the visitation to support her & her family during their time of grief. While I was still waiting in line, Peggy caught my eye & gave me a reassuring smile, totally calming my nerves. I knew that the only reason she recognized me was because I had sent her a recent photo of myself back when I originally connected with her. (I look A LOT different now than I did when she knew me in middle school.) That day, during what had to have been one of the most difficult times in Peggy's life, between small actions she was taking & things she said, Peggy was still blowing me away with her kindness & her compassion. When I spoke with her in the receiving line, Peggy asked me about how things were progressing. The fact that she continued to show me so much care & concern while she was grieving the loss of her mom, once again spoke volumes about the absolutely wonderful person Peggy is. As much as I wanted to express the great frustration I was feeling due to things moving slower than molasses, as well as some of the resource people I was working with not only not seeming to know how to help a late-diagnosed autistic woman like myself, but actually making things worse; I didn't. There was a line of people a mile long behind me, all waiting to talk to Peggy & her siblings. Plus, I wasn't there to talk about my personal difficulties. I was there to give her my condolences, my love, my compassion, & my support; things that she had given me a couple years earlier that meant so, SO much to me. I really, REALLY hope that I'll have the chance to fill her in on those things & more one day, at a much quieter time, when I'm not feeling like I need to give her MY support. A few days earlier, when I mentioned to my mom that I was going to go to this visitation, she told me I was very brave for going alone. (This was the first time I had ever been to, or even thought about going to visiting hours by myself-- the couple other times I had been to visiting hours, my family was with me.) In my mind though, I had no choice other than to go to this. I knew that Peggy would never expect me to be there, but Peggy made such a big impact on me recently that I really felt like I needed to go. I am SO quiet; I have a lot of anxiety when it comes to social situations, especially with people I don't know; & I'm someone who really struggles with coming out of my comfort zone. But, when I feel this strongly about something, I do it. And I was SO glad I did. When I talked to Peggy about why I wanted to be there to support her & her family & what an impact she'd made on me, I knew she was really touched by my presence. And that really warmed my heart. So, as I wrap up this very long blog post, why am I telling you all of this? Well, it's because I think you can learn a lot from what Peggy did. What she did is a very good illustration of how doing something so simple can really turn someone's whole life around. When I reached out to Peggy, I was hoping for a little bit of insight, but I got something so much more meaningful instead. She was so unbelievably kind & compassionate, giving me her time & a listening ear. Things that I so desperately needed. And that made such a world of difference to me. 💙 Happy New Year! Let's start the new year off by looking back on the key events of 2023. Key Events Of 2023:
Next, let's look back on everything that was covered during 2023. I began this blog on April 1, 2023; the first day of my first ever Autism ACCEPTANCE Month; with the idea that beginning my blog on that day would give me a plethora of topics to blog about right from the start. I wanted to begin by educating others about autism as best as I knew how (by writing) & as the month of May approached, blog posts would get more & more personal. Looking Back On 2023 Blog Posts: April, Autism ACCEPTANCE Month
May
June
July
August
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October
November
December
Last night, my college bestie & I went to a comedy show at a Worcester brewery. I didn't know it beforehand, but two out three of the standup comedians were autistic. The first comedian told us that she is autistic by sharing that both her & her fiancé (who performed right after her) have a touch of the 'tism. Now, this is a phrase that many autistic people use that I just cannot stand. Since this phrase came up during the comedy show that I just attended, I thought that now would be a good time to talk about what this phrase means & why it bothers me so much. What Exactly Does "A Touch Of The 'Tism" Mean?: "A touch of the 'tism" is a slang phrase used to characterize individuals displaying autistic traits. Many autistic people use this phrase when:
While this phrase may also be used by allistic, or non-autistic people to describe others who are displaying autistic traits, this is generally less common. People may say that someone has "a touch of the 'tism" regardless of whether or not (s)he is actually autistic. Why "A Touch Of The 'Tism" Bothers Me:
This is why I am so bothered by the phrase:
While a couple things that were said last night did bother me, nights out with my bestie (last night included) are seriously THE BEST. She's one of the very few people that I can say knows about all of me & loves me for it. 💙 During a recent family birthday dinner, my mom's cousin's husband made a comment about the fact that I probably didn't cry much as a baby or as a young child. The truth is, though, that that couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, as my dad told him, I was a very colicky baby with quite a loud cry for the first three months of my life. I remember family friends, neighbors, & some family making similar comments to both my parents & me ever since I was a little girl. We could always see their point because on the outside, I was a quiet, well-behaved, polite little girl who was comfortable interacting with adults. No, I didn't know how to start or keep a conversation going, but as long as I was talking to someone who could do that for me, that wasn't a problem. This is also often the reason why autistic girls who are now in their twenties & older are often not diagnosed until adulthood, if they are diagnosed at all. Little autistic girls often acted just like how I did growing up. They tended to be quiet, not cause trouble, did as they were told, & interacted well with adults. They were what my parents' friends would call a dream child. On the other hand, little autistic boys tended to be loud, troublemakers, disruptive, & had difficulty listening. Because of this, the parents & the teachers of these boys saw their behavior as problematic, which pushed them to get them evaluated for & diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. The Girl Wearing The Mask: I have been told countless times by my parents' friends, particularly by the ones who have sons & no daughters, that they wished that they had a daughter just like me. I mean, I was the perfect child after all. A quiet girl who never caused any trouble. What else could a parent want? Growing up in a neighborhood full of boys, I remember sitting on my next-door neighbor's front steps, helping her pull dead flowers out of her large flowerpot while she braided my hair. I had the hair she so badly wanted to play with before her daughter was born. 😜 Given that picture I just painted for you, from the outside, I looked like I was any parent's dream child, so it was abundantly clear to me why my family's family & friends would think that raising a girl like me was easy. When comments like that were made to me, I just smiled & nodded my head, thinking to myself that they don't know what my home & school life was really like. The struggles I went through day in & day out. The worry I caused my parents. The struggles & worry that now make so much sense with an autism diagnosis. The Girl Behind The Mask:
Home Life: I experienced very intense dizzy spells when I was an infant & again from when I was six until I was seventeen. A big part of my & my family's life when I was growing up was revolved around preventing me from experiencing dizziness, or at least preventing dizzy spells from coming on when I was outside of our home. I remember the traumatic details of it so vividly that it's as if it is happening right now. I would be lying in bed & I would feel like the entire world was going round & round. The world felt like it was spinning so fast all around me, frightening me more than I've ever been frightened before. I remember screaming & crying at the top of my lungs & gripping my dad's hands for dear life. Nothing my parents could do or say would help. Nothing helped other than a full night's sleep. I was always told to try to go to sleep when this happened, but I never could unless it was actually bedtime. Yes, it was just as bad as I'm making it seem. If you would like to read more about my experiences with dizzy spells & my very intense fear of being dizzy, I go into even more detail about this in my previous blog posts about the coronavirus pandemic, about vestibular processing, & about vestibular overload. While I'm still very prone to dizziness to this day, it is such a relief that it no longer affects me like it once did. Due to this trauma I faced when I was growing up, feeling dizzy continues to be one of my top fears. So, I still live my life in a way where I do everything I can to prevent feeling even slightly dizzy. I know what my triggers are, I am very aware of my body & how certain things make me feel, & I have coping mechanisms to help the feeling of dizziness be more manageable. This is one of the reasons why when I drink alcoholic beverages, as soon as I start feeling like there is alcohol inside of my body, I stop drinking. The happy & relaxed feeling that you get when you drink is quite frightening for me & is something I want to do everything in my power to avoid. School Life: Academically: I couldn't learn like other students my age could & my very observant fourth grade teacher picked up on it, suggesting to my parents that they get me evaluated for learning disabilities. When I was ten, I was diagnosed with a nonverbal learning disability & processing speed difficulties. I now know that this was a misdiagnosis because many of the symptoms of nonverbal learning disabilities are the same as the traits an autistic child might have. Girls of my ability level were just not being diagnosed with autism back then. When I was in fifth grade, my parents took me into Boston to have further learning disability testing done. The results showed pretty severe deficits, which ended up being caused by a medication my neurologist prescribed me for my dizzy spells (discussed above ↑), which doctors believed was either a migraine or a seizure variant. My parents were super upset because this testing was very expensive & was not at all helpful. Unfortunately, this particular medication had no impact on the frequency or on the severity of my dizzy spells either. Socially: Because I wasn't well-liked by my peers, I was bullied pretty severely from the time I was in first grade until I was a college senior. This is a commonality among us autistics. Every autistic child & every autistic adult you talk to will likely have something to say about bullying. Knowing that I have always caused my parents extra worry, I tried to minimize the pain that I was experiencing in front of them. I think this is a lot of the reason why the effects of the bullying still have a profound effect on me to this day. Even at that young age, I was trying to be the best daughter I could be. 💙 Let's start December off by looking back on everything that was covered during the month of November. (Can you believe it's December already?!) Also, if you are new here, WELCOME! I am so glad to have you here! 💕 November's Blog Topics:
Since Thanksgiving was just last week, I thought I'd spend this blog post telling you about what I'm thankful for. And no, autism didn't make the list. As I have said many times in this blog before, while many autistic people see autism as a superpower, something unique & wonderful about themselves, I see it as a hardship & a burden. Something that has very much gotten in the way of me achieving the white picket fence lifestyle I have dreamt of ever since I was a little girl. I had an interesting conversation with my mom last night, so before we move onto what this blog post is really about, I'd like to talk for a moment about Autism Acceptance. My mom made a comment about how I have accepted my autism, but I was quick to correct her. "I haven't accepted my autism. That's one of the things that I hate the most about myself & I wish it would just go away!" I said to her. "But you write all about it in your blog. You're very open about it there," my mom said. "I haven't accepted it though & I probably never will. I can write about it without accepting it. I'm open about it because I want people to have a better understanding of me. I hate my autism!" I exclaimed. "Okay, acknowledge then. You acknowledge that you have autism," my mom said, correcting the verbiage that she had been using. Yes, I acknowledge that I'm autistic. And I'm open about it, too. I'm trying to use my diagnosis to help others have a better understanding of me & to be more accepting of people who are a little bit different from them. But, accepting my autism? I'm far, far, FAR away from that. And to be completely honest with you, I can't see myself ever accepting it. I mean, autism has made my life so much more difficult than it would've been if I was neurotypical. Autism is something I want to stomp on, throw into a fire, & never see again. You get the picture. Feeling that way about my autism isn't acceptance. I wish I could get to the place of autism acceptance, but I haven't gotten there. And I don't think I ever will. What I'm Thankful For:
However, there are certain life experiences, things I have learned, & perspectives that I have that I only have because I am autistic. And that is what I'm thankful for. While I am definitely NOT thankful for autism itself, I do have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving, that is related to autism in one way or another. Those things include, but are not limited to...
We fell back to Standard Time at 2:00am on Sunday & while most adults love getting an extra hour of sleep, I sure don't because losing Daylight Savings Time causes me so much misery. In fact, it's a day that I dread every single year. That may sound extreme, but it's true. The reason why I dread it? The time the sun sets. Where I live, Saturday night’s sunset was at 5:36pm & Sunday night, it was at 4:35pm. The earliest sunset of the entire year is 4:14pm. That's just plain depressing. While I've lived in Massachusetts my whole life, interestingly, my happiness has always been dependent on how late it stays light out. So, the long, cold winter nights are understandably detrimental to my mental health. Difficulty adjusting to change can make both springing forward to Daylight Savings Time & falling back to Standard Time incredibly stressful for autistic people, but for me, it's only falling back that I struggle with. This is because I just LOVE springing forward to Daylight Savings Time. That extra hour of daylight at the end of the day brings me so much happiness & when I view a change as positive, I'm all for it! It's the negative changes that I struggle with. In fact, I don’t start accepting the fact that we're in Standard Time until the end of February because that's when the sun sets at a much more reasonable hour. The end of February is almost three months away. Plus, once I fully adjust to & accept Standard Time, springing forward is just a few short weeks away (one of my favorite days of the year). It taking that long to adjust to an hour time difference is not okay. When the sunset slowly gets earlier & earlier by a minute or two at a time each day, that's okay because the change is so small. The sun setting an hour earlier is a huge shock to my system because that is a big jump & that is why that is a struggle for me. And yes, I am all for making Daylight Savings Time a year round thing, like they keep talking about. Now, is it March yet? ☀️
Let's start November off by looking back on everything that was covered during the month of October. (Can you believe it's November already?!) Also, if you are new here, WELCOME! I am so glad to have you here! 💕 October's Blog Topics:
Happy Halloween! Well, maybe it's a Happy Halloween to you, but it's not for me. I've never liked this haunting holiday. So, there. I've come out & said it. I don't like Halloween! Now, having said that, if you're a Halloween-loving person, that's no biggie. In fact, one of my closest friends has a Halloween birthday & I just love her excitement around this frightful day. But, for me, Halloween just isn't my day. And that's okay, too. This Is Why:
I don't dislike everything about Halloween, so this is what I do like about the holiday:
Halloween Challenges For Autistic People:
How You Can Help:
Today is a big day for me because it marks my one year anniversary of my autism evaluation & me getting the validation I waited precisely four months & four days for (I can't believe it!), so in celebration of that, here are some things I've learned about myself over the past year, four months, & four days:
Looking Back On Six Months Of Blog Posts!
April's Blog Topics:
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AuthorHello! My name is Kim, I didn't know I was autistic until I was in my thirties, & this is my story. Categories
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