Autism Acceptance Quotes

This crusade to fix herself was ending right now. She wasn't broken. She saw and interacted with the world in a different way, but that was her. She could change her actions, change her words, change her appearance, but she couldn't change the root of herself. At her core, she would always be autistic. People called it a disorder, but it didn't feel like one. To her, it was simply the way she was.

Do not fear people with Autism, embrace them, Do not spite people with Autism unite them, Do not deny people with Autism accept them for then their abilities will shine

It's better to be open about who you really are, what you're really like, and be disliked by a few than it is to hide who you are and be tolerated by many.

If you are accepting of the belief that life can be good even with autism, then they will think so, too. You are the most important person in your child's life, and you can make them believe that anything is possible.

The fact is that sooner or later, Andrew Wakefield will be exonerated, his theory will be accepted, and a vaccine-autism connection will be proven.

I'm surprised by her consideration. People don't normally think about how to make things less difficult for me.

It’s neurotypicals who categorized autism as a social disorder.” Autistic people don’t actually lack communication skills, or a drive to connect. We aren’t doomed to forever feel lonely and broken. We can step out of the soul-crushing cycle of reaching for neurotypical acceptance and being rejected despite our best efforts. Instead, we can support and uplift one another, and create our own neurodiverse world where everyone—including neurotypicals—is welcome.

One day I dream that we can grow in a matured society where nobody would be 'normal or abnormal' but just human beings, accepting any other human being -- ready to grow together.

Life is too hard to behave normal all the time. Just the other day my mom told me I should learn to behave more neurotypically because then I would make more friends. This attitude is truly not great -- insisting that I behave in a way that makes no sense to me. This illustrates the hopelessness of trying to be your own person because this means you must behave like everyone else to be accepted. Being different is not seen as a positive trait. I feel if I have to wear a different face, then I will attract people I don't care to know.

True autism, Jack had decided, was in the last analysis an apathy toward public endeavor; it was a private existence carried on as if the individual person were the creator of all value, rather than merely the repository of inherited values. And Jack Bohlen, for the life of him, could not accept the Public School with its teaching machines as the sole arbiter of what was and what wasn't of value. For the values of a society were in ceaseless flux, and the Public School was an attempt to stabilize those values, to jell them at a fixed point—to embalm them.

It is important to note that the stress we feel as parents is not generated by our adult child with autism, but rather from the failings of the systems in place that are supposedly there to help us. There are caring people in the systems, yet often the lack of options and foresight and inability to plan ahead or provide options for our loved ones are accepted as normal by the systems in place.

People who are not autistic tell themselves stories. They fill in the gaps of the people they meet, often with information that isn't correct. It's why they like horror so much. It's why they get so easily scared. They see a ghost and the ghost doesn't need to do a thing. They will complete the story, they will scare themselves.

Real me only leaks out when the rote-learning system I have devised has insufficient data to maintain the facade. Real me is also allowed out in times of complete comfort and acceptance (it takes a rare soul to love and accept without judgement...)

Men who struggle with deadlines or disorganization more frequently find the socially acceptable support of executive assistants, wives, or mothers … they are the “absent-minded professors,” while there is no word for emotional, discombobulated women.

Being the person that others expect me to be is so very tiring. I wish that I could just be me and my way of being a person is okay and accepted.

Behind the disability, we have a heart and a mind.

Adults tend to be more understanding and accepting of differences than teenagers. The important thing is to find a group that your adult child is personally interested in being a part of, and then acting on the assumption that he has the right to be there and that he will fit right in.

There are few things as tragic as when we tacitly agree to the notion that our unchangeable truth is somehow invalid. Less than. Broken. Wrong. That pretending is necessary for professional opportunity or personal acceptance. I’ve done it a million times in ways large and small, and I can tell you this: trying to hide in plain sight is frustrating, disorienting, isolating—an exhausting game of (only possible) short-term gains in exchange for very-certain long-term exclusion. When we agree to play, we not only hide and cast doubt upon our experiences. We’ve willingly participated in the invalidation of ourselves.

The label neurodiverse includes everyone from people with ADHD, to Down Syndrome, to Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, to Borderline Personality Disorder. It also includes people with brain injuries or strokes, people who have been labeled “low intelligence,” and people who lack any formal diagnosis, but have been pathologized as “crazy” or “incompetent” throughout their lives. As Singer rightly observed, neurodiversity isn’t actually about having a specific, catalogued “defect” that the psychiatric establishment has an explanation for. It’s about being different in a way others struggle to understand or refuse to accept.

At the age of three, Tito Mukhopadhyay was diagnosed with severe autism, but his mother, Soma, refused to accept the conventional wisdom of the time that her son would be unable to interact with the outside world. She read to him, taught him to write in English, and challenged him to write his own stories.

Always be true to yourself and live your best life.

the hope is that laying out what we understand about essential differences in the minds of men and women may lead to grater acceptance and respect of difference.

I started hanging out with group members outside of the group itself, and found I wasn’t ashamed to be a visibly identifiable member of a “weird” crowd anymore. Instead, I felt accepted.

learning in adulthood that you have been secretly nursing a disability all your life is quite the world-shattering experience. Adjusting your self-concept is a long process. It can involve mourning, rage, embarrassment, and dozens upon dozens of “wait, that was an Autism thing?” revelations. Though many of us come to see Autistic identity as a net positive in our lives, accepting our limitations is an equally important part of the journey. The clearer we are with ourselves about where we excel and where we need help, the more likely we are to eke out an existence that’s richly interdependent, sustainable, and meaningful.

Still, some parents and professionals view these interests as yet another undesirable symptom of autism, one that makes it even more difficult for the child to fit in. Often their instinct is to discourage the child, to redirect his attention and suggest interests that are more socially acceptable and conventional. But discouraging an enthusiasm can be just another way of dismantling a strategy that helps a child with autism feel better regulated—or, worse, removing a source of interest and joy. A more helpful approach is to do as Jessy Park’s parents did and use the enthusiasm as a way to expand the child’s outlook and improve the child’s life.

Jonathan made concessions for me, and I didn't need Janice to tell me that. He kept me away from loud noises before they could overwhelm me. He was always kind- to people, to animals, to strangers. He made me feel special and smart.

It feels like we’re living in a time where neurodivergence is more broadly understood, or even accepted – with people, learning about the ways conditions like Autism and ADHD have historically been underdiagnosed, or underreported, especially in women.

Sinclair’s lecture served as a spark for the neurodiversity movement, the concept that autism and other disabilities, like dyslexia, dyspraxia, ADHD, and so on, are normal variations in the human population and do not require a cure but rather accommodation and acceptance.

Als ik niet begrijp hoe dingen gaan, wil ik dat de wereld ophoudt met draaien, zodat ik tijd heb om te begrijpen hoe het gaat. Maar de wereld houdt niet op met draaien. Terwijl ik één ding probeer te begrijpen, komt er een tweede bij, dat ik ook probeer te begrijpen, maar ik was nog niet klaar met het begrijpen van dat eerste. Alsof je met je linkerhand hete soep opschept en tegelijkertijd met je rechterhand een broodje met pindakaas probeert te smeren. En dan is er vaak een derde ding dat ik moet begrijpen, maar ik heb geen handen meer vrij.

Most people love with a guarded heart, only if certain things happen or don’t happen, only to a point. If the person we love hurts us, betrays us, abandons us, disappoints us, if the person becomes hard to love, we often stop loving. We protect our delicate hearts. We close off, retreat, withhold, disconnect, and withdraw. We might even hate. Most people love conditionally. Most people are never asked to love with a whole and open heart. They only love partway. They get by. Autism was my gift to you. My autism didn’t let me hug and kiss you, it didn’t allow me to look into your eyes, it didn’t let me say aloud the words you so desperately wanted to hear with your ears. But you loved me anyway. You’re thinking, Of course I did. Anyone would have. This isn’t true. Loving me with a full and accepting heart, loving all of me, required you to grow. Despite your heartache and disappointment, your fears and frustration and sorrow, despite all I couldn’t show you in return, you loved me. You loved me unconditionally. You haven’t experienced this kind of love with Dad or your parents or your sister or anyone else before. But now, you know what unconditional love is. I know my death has hurt you, and you’ve needed time alone to heal. You’re ready now. You’ll still miss me. I miss you, too. But you’re ready. Take what you’ve learned and love someone again. Find someone to love and love without condition. This is why we’re all here.

I never allowed my Autism/Asperger's to have the prerogative to neither tear nor slow me down. I earned a degree in chemistry, juggle for elementary schools, play piano for seniors on Sunday mornings, and been mentoring children/teens from K-12 at Royal Rangers almost every week for six years and counting.

There are a few things that need to occur for our loved ones to have more relationships. First, they must learn some social skills and competencies -- especially so for those who are independent and often on their own, so that they will not become victimized by others and can make some connections. Second, for those who require it, they need to have support staff who understand movement differences and sensory challenges and how to include a nonverbal person who uses alternative means of communication. Last, but not least, for friendship to occur, people need to have an open mind, be more flexible, and be more accepting of people with differences.

Many of the haters call me mental, which, by the way, is quite true, both metaphorically and clinically. It's true clinically because I am a person on the spectrum with OCD, and metaphorically, because I refuse to accept the sanity of unaccountability as the right way of civilized life. I am not going to glorify the issues of mental illness by saying that it's a super power or that it makes a person special. On the contrary, it makes things extremely difficult for a person. But guess what! Indifference is far more dangerous than any mental illness. Because mental illness can be managed with treatment, but there is no treatment for indifference, there is no treatment for coldness, there is no treatment for apathy. So, let everyone hear it, and hear it well - in a world where indifference is deemed as sanity what's needed is a whole lot of mentalness, a whole lot of insanity, insanity for justice, insanity for equality, insanity for establishing the fundamental rights of life and living for each and every human being, no matter who they are, what they are, or where they are.

I know you're worried. I'm sorry. I'm just...very..." I can't think of the right word. How do I explain that mind is too slow and too jumbled all at once. That I'm out of gas? That I've failed, and the only way to keep from falling apart is to accept that? Or that maybe I've already fallen apart, and I don't know if I can sweep the pieces back together? I settle on three words. "I am tired.

That was one thing about the Deaf community I always admired beyond belief—they were the most accepting lot I’d ever come across. It didn’t matter what else you had to deal with, blindness, mental challenges, fetal alcohol syndrome, autism, whatever else you were dealing with, if you were culturally Deaf, they accepted you as one of their own. Even, apparently, if you had supernatural sight.

While the psychiatric establishment was debating theories of toxic parenting and childhood psychosis, however, Asperger’s lost tribe was putting its autistic intelligence to work by building the foundations of a society better suited to its needs and interests. Like Henry Cavendish, they refused to accept their circumstances as given. By coming up with ways of socializing on their own terms, they sketched out a blueprint for the modern networked world.

Self-acceptance means fully accepting yourself no matter what your traits or how you perform or achieve. It does not mean self-esteem, self-confidence, or self-regard. These terms imply that you accept yourself because you perform or behave in a specific way or because people accept you based on your achievements. Self-acceptance means that you non-judgmentally accept yourself for who you are without rating or evaluating yourself, or requiring the approval of others.

Most of my housemates had ADHD, PTSD, bipolar, autism, or some combination of those. I might have been the only one who didn’t realize I was neurodivergent—that is, not neurotypical. In that house, for the first time since childhood, I didn’t feel like an introvert. I got energy from being around people, because I didn’t feel the need to play a role—I could just be. Stimming was common and accepted. People dressed however they liked. Meltdowns were an occasional part of life, not a big and scary event.

When you’re A child, grown-ups always tell you that ‘Stix and Stones Can break you’re bones, but words will never hurt you.’ They say it as if it’s a kind of spell that’s going to protect you. I’ve never seen the logic of it. Cuts and bruises quickly heal and disappear. You forget all about them. The psychological ones that people inflict with words go much deeper. Even now, I don’t like to think about those times too much, in case the scars begin to open up and hurt, making me feel useless all over again.

Mother Nature has figured out a way to get rid of the extra neurons through a process called “pruning.” With appropriate input from the environment, the unnecessary neurons die off, and an acceptable number connect the two structures at the end of the developmental period. But, of course, here comes the fragility. Frequently the pruning is overdone. Indeed, evidence has accumulated that developmental mistakes in pruning lead to autism11 and schizophrenia.12 “Robust yet fragile” is everywhere, and the concept is central to realizing how the brain is organized.

There are times when I wonder where this disability "autism" comes from. Could it have been created, I wonder, by humankind itself? I can't help but feel that some imbalance in this world first caused neuro-atypical people to be needed and then brought into being. This isn't to say that all of us are delighted to be the way we are all the time, of course. But I refuse to accept it when people view us as incomplete or partial human beings; I prefer to believe that people with autism are every bit as whole as anyone else. We might be different from the majority in diverse ways, but why are these differences negative things?

Women receiving late diagnosis often share the same sense of relief and self-acceptance as men, but perhaps to an even greater degree, due to the way in which they have needed to manage their autism – often through bending to fit to what’s expected of them in terms of gender expectations through camouflaging (which autistic men are seen as less prone to and/or able to do). Feeling justified or vindicated by diagnosis is the strong response of many of the women I have spoken to: a sense of having the right to be yourself established – for the first time – in a world that doesn’t always welcome or appreciate that self. These are women who are exhausted and angry at having tried so hard to make everything make sense, while presuming that they were to blame for not getting it in the first place: women who feel they have had to put on a persona of social acceptability in order to be tolerated.

The enemy is not the blunt adult perseverating on applied behavioral analysis (ABA) research, the enemy is not the parent wearing a puzzle piece t-shirt (but please don’t), the enemy is the system that makes it so exhausting for families to get in-home supports, it is the bias that creates inequity in IEPs, it is the administrative burden that makes county services or social security a multi-year battle. If we fight these systems from the perspective of the community as a whole then we can create a better outcome for everyone. So it’s time—I challenge everyone reading this, both parents and advocates, to put down our swords and hold ourselves accountable for what has happened in the past, but also move forward with forgiveness and humbleness. There is no shame in realizing that you were previously speaking from a less informed place, there is no shame in accepting that we have room to learn and grow still.

When society first starts flirting with accepting a marginalized group, that acceptance is often wrapped up in a born this way type narrative. For example, in the early 2000s, many straight allies claimed to support gay people because being gay wasn't a choice, and we couldn't help being the way that we are. There was a lot of pop science writing at that time exploring the search for the "gay gene," and suggesting that certain hormone exposures in the womb might predispose a fetus to being gay. Today we don't have conversations about the biological causes of gayness very much anymore. In the United States at least, being gay has started becoming accepted enough that queer people don't have to justify our existence by saying that we can't help but be this way. If someone were to choose to be gay, that wouldn't be a problem, because being gay is good. Similarly, Autistic people deserve acceptance not because we can't help but have the brains we have, but because being Autistic is good.

According to Yale’s Cultural Cognition Project, for example, one’s “cultural worldview”—that would be political leanings or ideological outlook to the rest of us—explains “individuals’ beliefs about global warming more powerfully than any other individual characteristic.”16 More powerfully, that is, than age, ethnicity, education, or party affiliation. The Yale researchers explain that people with strong “egalitarian” and “communitarian” worldviews (marked by an inclination toward collective action and social justice, concern about inequality, and suspicion of corporate power) overwhelmingly accept the scientific consensus on climate change. Conversely, those with strong “hierarchical” and “individualistic” worldviews (marked by opposition to government assistance for the poor and minorities, strong support for industry, and a belief that we all pretty much get what we deserve) overwhelmingly reject the scientific consensus.17 The evidence is striking. Among the segment of the U.S. population that displays the strongest “hierarchical” views, only 11 percent rate climate change as a “high risk,” compared with 69 percent of the segment displaying the strongest “egalitarian” views.18 Yale law professor Dan Kahan, the lead author on this study, attributes the tight correlation between “worldview” and acceptance of climate science to “cultural cognition,” the process by which all of us—regardless of political leanings—filter new information in ways that will protect our “preferred vision of the good society.” If new information seems to confirm that vision, we welcome it and integrate it easily. If it poses a threat to our belief system, then our brain immediately gets to work producing intellectual antibodies designed to repel the unwelcome invasion.19 As Kahan explained in Nature, “People find it disconcerting to believe that behavior that they find noble is nevertheless detrimental to society, and behavior that they find base is beneficial to it. Because accepting such a claim could drive a wedge between them and their peers, they have a strong emotional predisposition to reject it.” In other words, it is always easier to deny reality than to allow our worldview to be shattered, a fact that was as true of die-hard Stalinists at the height of the purges as it is of libertarian climate change deniers today. Furthermore, leftists are equally capable of denying inconvenient scientific evidence. If conservatives are inherent system justifiers, and therefore bridle before facts that call the dominant economic system into question, then most leftists are inherent system questioners, and therefore prone to skepticism about facts that come from corporations and government. This can lapse into the kind of fact resistance we see among those who are convinced that multinational drug companies have covered up the link between childhood vaccines and autism. No matter what evidence is marshaled to disprove their theories, it doesn’t matter to these crusaders—it’s just the system covering up for itself.20 This kind of defensive reasoning helps explain the rise of emotional intensity that surrounds the climate issue today. As

Internally, I was fractured, a series of faked personalities and protective shields that kept people at a distance. I could only drop the shield when I was alone, but even in my solitude I was miserable and confused. I was all defense mechanisms, with nothing left inside worth defending. When a masked Autistic person lacks self-knowledge or any kind of broad social acceptance, they are often forced to conceive of themselves as compartmentalized, inconsistent parts. Here is the person I have to be at work, and the person I must be at home. These are the things I fantasize about doing but can’t tell anybody about. Here are the drugs that keep my energy levels up, and the lies I tell to be entertaining at parties. These are the tension-defusing distractions I’ll deploy when someone begins to suspect there’s something off about me. We don’t get the chance to come together into a unified whole that we can name or understand, or that others can see and love. Some sides of us go unacknowledged entirely, because they don’t serve our broader goal of remaining as inoffensive and safe as possible.

Having Asperger’s is like having an enhancer plugged into an outlet in our brains. Asperger’s is an accelerator, amplifying the perceptions that we have on the world and the ambiance around us. Like going to the store and buying a device to plug in or install on something in order to make it run faster, Asperger’s will deepen everything’s significance, causing us to take things to a more intense level. Those of us with Asperger’s need to take our time on certain things, which causes us difficulty in accomplishing simple tasks. We learn to diligently persevere and be more prudent and careful. "Juggling the Issues: Living with Asperger’s Syndrome is an anthology explaining these topics through the eyes of someone with Asperger’s. This is more than a researcher giving an outline of what we face and what we can do. Instead, this is one of those books told by a person who has Asperger’s and has dealt with certain difficulties in order to experience achievements over the past twenty years. I have personally overcome and am still overcoming a lot of the trials that come with having Asperger’s.

I write now what 15 years past I would still not have thought possible to write: that if today I were given the choice to accept the experience, with everything that it entails, or to refuse the bitter largesse, I would have to stretch out my hands — because out of it has come, for all of us, an unimagined life. And I will not change the last word of the story. It is still love.

Treatment methods abound to reduce heavy metals in the body. Chelation is one of these treatments. When heavy metals are reduced in an affected person's system, outcomes have been shown to be favorable. A few autistics who have undergone chelation have shown favorable outcomes, but the success these few have seen is thought by many physicians to be due to the fact that, as with other people in the general population, some people retain more heavy metals in the body than others, and for these people, it is beneficial to bring the heavy metals in the body down to acceptable levels.

Practically every radical cause in America today shows the influence of this postmodernist assault. From radical feminism to racial and sexual politics, postmodern leftists blend their unique brand of cultural criticism with the political objectives of these movements. In their intellectual laboratories -- the cultural studies and humanities programs at American universities -- they apply theories of structuralism, poststructuralism, and deconstructualism to achieving the political objectives of the New Left. The results are a cornucopia of identity theories promising perfect diversity. They include radical multiculturalism, critical race theory, African-American criticism, feminist theory, gender and transgender theories, gay and "queer" theories, Latino studies, media "criticism", postcolonial studies, and indigenous cultural studies, to mention only a few. The latest identity cause to add to the list is the "neurodiversity" movement in which, as its supporters put it, autism, "ought to be treated not as a scourge to be eradicated but rather as a difference to be understood and accepted". All adversity, even that which is biologically inherited, can be wiped away by simply adjusting one's attitudes.

Kevin Stassu, the parent of an autistic son and the Director of the First Center for Autism and Innovation at Vanderbilt University, said something once that has struck with me: ‘I would not change my son for the world, so I will change the world for my son.

Neurodiversity supporters cling essentially to autism’s diagnostic criteria when challenging even mainstream critics, as we support acceptance of official autism domains of atypical communication, intense and “special” interests, a need for familiarity or predictability, and atypical sensory processing, yet distinguish between those core traits and co-occurring conditions we would be happy to cure such as anxiety, gastrointestinal disorders, sleep disorders, and epilepsy.

We exist, full stop, no qualifiers needed.

When you’re autistic, from birth you’re told that there’s something ‘wrong’ with you, even if nobody is quite sure what it is. I’ve spent most of my life feeling ‘broken’: as if my way of thinking and feeling and speaking and simply experiencing the world is abnormal, and should be hidden as much as possible if I want to be accepted. Finding a way to love yourself when others don’t is incredibly difficult, because we all tend to define our sense of ‘self’ through what we’re told by others: by society in general, by our peers, by the media, by the art we consume. It’s hard to stand against the world and be yourself.

Autistics have been observed to exhibit what’s called an anxious-ambivalent attachment style at rates that are elevated compared to the neurotypical population. People with an anxious-ambivalent attachment are difficult to soothe and reassure, and don’t see close loved ones as a safe, “secure base” they can find comfort in when lost or threatened. As adults, people who are anxious-ambivalent tend to get into patterns of intense emotional dependency, combined with insecurity. They yearn to be accepted yet doubt that they can be. When other people try to connect with us, we rebuff them without even realizing it.

Our current definition of health is tied to the state and employers' desire for productive, inoffensive conformity...It is only by expanding our definition of what is acceptable human behaviour and working to meet other people's manifold needs that we can move forward.

It is not emotions themselves that can be negative, but more our response to them.

Let's start at the beginning: the first step of the unmasking process is realizing you're Autistic. It might not feel like it's an active step toward self-acceptance or authenticity, but coming to understand yourself as disabled is a pretty dramatic reframing of your life. Almost every neuro-diverse person I've spoken to for this book shared that discovering they were Autistic was a powerful aha moment, one that prompted them to rethink every narrative they'd believed about who they were. Painful labels they'd carried around inside themselves for years suddenly didn't seem as relevant: it wasn't that they were stupid, or clueless, or lazy, they were just disabled. It wasn't that their effort had never been enough, or that they were fundamentally wrong or bad. They simply hadn't been treated with the compassion they deserved, or given the tools that would have allowed them to flourish. Naming their position in society as a disabled person helped them to externalize that which had long been internalized. It proved that none of their suffering had been their fault.

gaining acceptance, and there’s a difference between using the internet as a way to develop a sense of fluency and competence, and retreating into it because we feel we have no other choice. Thomas tells me that as he’s come to understand his own Autism and work on unmasking, he’s gotten better at noticing how he feels and figuring out how to care for himself. For many years, particularly before his diagnosis, he would just push his emotions and desires away. “This week I noticed my energy replenishment was at a standstill,” he says. “I couldn’t focus on data work, which is normally one of my passions. I journaled about it a bit and realized my girlfriend has been home more than usual lately. I love her, but being around her all day was overstimulating me.

Because if someone had told me when I was younger that it was OK to not be like everybody else, that it was not my job to try to be "normal" and to "fit in," that my way of seeing the world was just as valid and important as everybody else's, then I think I would have found growing up a lot easier.

People don't suffer from Asperger's. They suffer because they're depressed from being beat up and left out all the time

More recently, autism has been seen by some as a neurological difference and not necessarily a disorder at all. According to the Autistic Self Advocacy Network (ASAN 2022, About Autism section): Autism is a developmental disability [which is a natural part of human diversity] that affects how we experience the world around us. Autistic people are an important part of the world. Autism is a normal part of life, and makes us who we are… Autistic people are born autistic and we will be autistic our whole lives… There is no one way to be autistic. Some autistic people can speak, and some autistic people need to communicate in other ways. Some autistic people also have intellectual disabilities and some autistic people don’t. Some autistic people need a lot of help in their day-to-day lives, and some autistic people only need a little help. All of these people are autistic, because there is no right or wrong way to be autistic. All of us experience autism differently, but we all contribute to the world in meaningful ways. We all deserve understanding and acceptance.

We, on the spectrum, are often misconstrued as rude or audacious. Problem is not that we feel too little, but that we feel too crippling much.

When I was small, I wanted to be a boy. No, it was more than that–I thought that I had to be a boy. I understand that there are children who refuse to identify with the sex on their birth certificate because they are trans, but I’ve never thought that was the case with me. It was more that the assumption everywhere, in the early seventies, seemed to be that women were lesser beings than men, and girls lesser beings than boys, that they did lesser things and lived lesser lives, and I did not see why I should accept those lesser conditions. There was a whole world out there for me to observe and explore and think about, and I had no interest in interrupting my activities so that the world could look at me and judge whether I was pretty or nice or good–whether, in other words, I was becoming a girl. Why on earth would I want to be one of those? Why would I, when I was so much more interested in looking than in being looked at?

Sensory overload is our biggest struggle.

Sonnet on The Spectrum (Diary of An Autistic Neuroscientist) We, on the spectrum, are often misconstrued as rude or audacious. Problem is not that we feel too little, but that we feel too crippling much. Sensory overload is our biggest struggle, an eternal battle against daily situations. Storms that the normals experience only in tragedy, are our life's everyday occurrence. Sidelining the stormy torment of the spectrum, the world romanticizes with autistic savants. I never could communicate with my parents, and they never knew what my struggle was. We autistics have difficulty communicating, till we speak on a matter of interest. Then we can jabber like any neurotypical, bursting with joy in our nerves and veins.

We, on the spectrum, are often misconstrued as rude or audacious. Problem is not that we feel too little, but that we feel too crippling much. Sensory overload is our biggest struggle, an eternal battle against daily situations. Storms that the normals experience only in tragedy, are our life’s everyday occurrence.

It’s the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.” – Aristotole

The children I describe here have horizontal conditions that are alien to their parents. They are deaf or dwarfs; they have Down syndrome, autism, schizophrenia, or multiple severe disabilities; they are prodigies; they are people conceived in rape or who commit crimes; they are transgender. The timeworn adage says that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, meaning that a child resembles his or her parents; these children are apples that have fallen elsewhere—some a couple of orchards away, some on the other side of the world. Yet myriad families learn to tolerate, accept, and finally celebrate children who are not what they originally had in mind.

There are two judgments we face as a Christian. In the first judgment we will be asked if we accepted Christ as our Lord and Savior. This judgment will allow us to enter the gates of heaven or send us directly to hell. The second judgment comes to judge our works. What did we do with our time on earth? Things done that were meaningless will burn up like wood, hay and straw when put to the fire. Things that were done of value will stand the test of fire. Gold, silver and costly stones will stand the test of fire. I believe working with our kids and all that it entails is gold, silver and costly stones. When our works are put before us in heaven, the time that we have spent cooking meals from scratch, tutoring our children, spending our money on their needs, the struggles that it took to get them to take the supplements their bodies needed, spending sleepless nights reading and researching to help them will all stand the test of the fire that is yet to come.

rediscovered, a ketogenic diet is returning to mainstream acceptance and is again recognized as a highly effective therapy for seizure and neurologically related disorders. In fact, there are studies to show the strong benefits of ketogenic diets on virtually every manner of neurological disorder. Some examples of neurologic uses of a ketogenic diet other than epilepsy are migraines, Alzheimer’s disease, Parkinson’s disease, Lou Gehrig’s disease (ALS), autism, brain tumors, depression, sleep disorders, schizophrenia, postanoxic brain injury, posthypoxic myoclonus glycogenosis type V, and narcolepsy, to name a few.

What does it mean for something to be natural? When we say that something is “natural”, what we often actually mean is that it is widely accepted or practiced, whereas something that is “unnatural” is foreign or strange to us.

I have learned to accept the fact that I will make mistakes at nearly every turn, but that those mistakes can be softened if I am honest about who I am to my girls.

While some siblings accept, and even embrace, their destiny as members of the 'team,' others are (mostly privately) outraged, having experienced the obverse of the soothing stereotype in their own families. A graphic designer whose autistic brother tried to strangle her when they were children, and who struggled for years to get her parents to recognize the danger he presented, is acutely aware of the discrepancy between the illusion and the reality of damaged families: I'm trying to eradicate the Hallmark Hall of Fame Special myth - 'how I learned the meaning of life by having a disabled sibling.' The cover of Newsweek on autism had a beautiful blond good boy. People just want to look at the pretty kids on Jerry Lewis, the sanitized version, not the ugly cases like my brother. The severely disabled aren't telegenic.

The trauma of Down's syndrome is that it is present prenatally and can therefore undermine the early stages of bonding. The challenge of autism is that it sets in or is detected in the toddler years, and so transfigures the child to whom parents have already bonded. The shock of schizophrenia is that it manifests in late adolescence or early adulthood, and parents must accept that the child they have known and loved for more than a decade may be irrevocably lost, even as that child looks much the same as ever.

Don’t pity me or try to cure or change me. If you could live in my head for just one day, you might weep at how much beauty I perceive in the world with my exquisite senses. I would not trade one small bit of that beauty, as overwhelming and powerful as it can be, for ‘normalcy.’”2

I’m not broken; my brain just functions differently. And the more I accept that I have a high flow of emotions and always will, the better I feel.

I'm on the spectrum," I say with a jolt. "Derek and Jack were right." "They were not." Artemis scowls. "That's a euphemism. They don't want to say autistic because they think it's rude. It is not rude." "It's not?" I say distantly, observing my brain shift again. "Nope. People think autism is some kind of error, and it's not. You're not broken or 'disordered,' or whatever they say on their little bits of paper. That just means 'not exactly like me.' Which--" Artemis points at the folder "--I think you'll see is one of the many things Mum wrote in the margins, along with the words go to hell, highlighted in pink. Autism is just a different wiring. You're built in alternative neurological software, from the ground up. Every single part of you. And it's..." "Colorful and loud?" I guess, and Artemis laughs. "I was going to say brilliant," she says. "But, yeah, I'd imagine that too. Although I don't know why anyone is surprised at how the world treats you. This has never really been a planet that embraces difference.

There is so much that autistic women and girls can give to each other, including love, laughter, joy, kind smiles, critical thought, understanding, and true safety. Instead of striving to conform to a neurotypical norm, these friendships can let our young women be who they are on their own terms. Navigating the complicated social rules of girls and women is so very difficult. Doing it with a friend or two who truly understand and like you for who you are makes it, if not easier, at least less painful.

Not a lot of people outside of the compound knew about Damien. The reason for that was pretty simple—Damien was Lorenzo Maroni’s imperfect child. Somehow, he’d had the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck during his birth, which cut off his supply of oxygen for a few precious seconds, a few seconds too many. That had cost Damien his ability to gauge the world. Dante was sure he was on some spectrum of autism, especially because his mind was too high-functioning for his age while his social skills weren’t good. It had never been properly diagnosed though, so he couldn’t be sure. Bloodhound Maroni could not accept that his younger son could have a mental condition that required some help. While he had the abundance of resources to get Damien help anytime, he turned a blind eye to his younger son. Even though he was a great kid, Dante knew he had issues expressing himself, certain behaviors that were not appropriate in the world but appropriate for him. Dante knew that Damien would never, ever find acceptance and love in the world he lived in, and he deserved both those things.

Another common narrative that we may come across in our journey towards self-acceptance is that ‘autism is a super power’, and articles online that read ‘Here are 20 super successful people with ADHD’. Although this may make some autistic ADHDers feel positive about themselves initially, it can have an unintended negative impact on others, as we can end up feeling like we can only be accepted by society as neurodivergent if we are the next Albert Einstein.

I know, Matt. How are you feeling? One to ten. Ten totally freaked out. One pretty cool.' 'Hmmm. I’m an eight teetering on nine.

– but what exactly do we mean by happiness? Is happiness a short-term state (‘I’m happy when I’m playing tennis’) or a longer-term condition (‘I’m a happy person’)? The very thing that makes one person extremely happy (going to a football match, reading a book, being alone...) might indeed induce a state of extreme unhappiness in another. But happiness, however defined, is something generally considered a positive state worth cultivating.

-success does not bring long-term happiness, but that being happy can increase the likelihood of success.

And so, I got by. Not by bringing my true self to the table, but by camouflaging who I was. Where is the harm in that, you might ask? Surely, we all have to mask aspects of our personality as we go through life, whether or not we have autism? To some extent, this is correct and research shows that neurotypical people also employ camouflaging strategies1. The harm appears to be related to the degree to which women with autism camouflage2,3,4. When you have autism, you are constantly adapting to a situation which inherently doesn’t work for you because it doesn’t make any room for your needs and wants. Consistently masking is exhausting, depressing and anxiety-provoking.

Struggling to fit into the world, and denying your authentic self, can cause self-dislike and low self-esteem and there is a strong link between autism and mental health issues, including anxiety and depression5. Consistently masking your true self goes beyond putting on a cloak of normality in the company of others to a lack of self-acceptance which kicks in even when it’s just you on you. Is there a space where you can reveal and accept your true self to yourself, or have you reached a point where you devalue yourself, because you don’t seem to fit with a social norm? Have those messages from those around you reached a point where they have become your core beliefs? If your choices flow from this point, it’s difficult to be authentic even with yourself. Becoming authentic, then, isn’t just about revealing your true self to others, it is about learning to love and accept yourself as you are. It is about discovering what you love in life, what nurtures your mind, body and soul and having the conviction to pursue those things. It is about valuing yourself enough to meet your needs and wants.

A much-loved and longtime worker, Lacey, dispensed gentle Christian advice to the young women around her, who were often troubled or tired. I still have an image of Lacey sitting quietly among the bustle of the dressing room and presenting such a beautiful picture; she was so serene, so accepting, and right with Christ, whom she loved more than her own breathing. She had been raised within the paradoxically freeing confines of strict morality in a black Baptist church. One may wonder how such a religious woman had come to lead a life as a career dancer. Lacey was blessed—for so she considered it—with the most enormous breasts I had ever seen. They actually prevented her from leading a normal existence. I asked her once if she felt angry that through no fault of her own she was forced to lead what many might consider an immoral life. She seemed genuinely surprised. “The Lord give me dese,” she said, as she pushed her small hands under the mountains of flesh that gave her headaches, backaches, and rashes. Lifting them up to heaven as a testament to her belief in their divine origins, she continued, “He give me dese so I could spread love. Den He give me dis job so I could get along in life.

When I was a kid, no one knew that I was autistic. Everyone—including myself—knew that I was weird and unlike my neighbors, friends, classmates, and peers. But without the label of autism, I wasn’t segregated. I went to school and was mostly placed in regular classes, where I sometimes did very well and sometimes was bored and well below average, despite being hyper intelligent. I met all kinds of kids and lived in a neighborhood where I made friends, most of whom I’m still in touch with 40 years later. These relationships could be confusing and weird. Some of my “friends” teased me for saying the wrong things, wearing the “wrong” clothes, or liking different music than they did. When I responded by teasing them about their music, clothes, or statements, they got angry and defensive with me. The same rules did not apply. If I stared at someone out of curiosity, that was rude. If someone stared at me because I was weird, that was somehow okay. I came to learn that there was a social pecking order and some people did try to be my friend because they saw me as less than and able to be dominated. Others saw me as an equal or recognized that I wasn’t going to attempt to dominate them. When I asked people out on dates, I was often laughed at but sometimes—to my delight—I was accepted. Of course, I’d still be heartbroken when my date cheated on me or otherwise hurt my feelings. The idea that autistic people don’t have feelings is pathologized and projected onto us so furiously that periodic reminders that we do have feelings and that it is okay are important.

Pretty please? It will be fun,” Caroline said. She spoke using a computer voice that came out of her tablet. That was how Caroline talked. She’d type things into an app, and then a voice from her tablet–a snotty-sounding British lady–would speak her words out loud.

Actually, the more I think about it, the more I figure that a lot of the cons of autism are not really caused by autism, but by how other people react to it.

To unmask is to lay bare a proud face of noncompliance, to refuse to be silenced, to stop being compartmentalized and hidden away, and to stand powerfully in our wholeness alongside other disabled and marginalized folks. Together we can stand strong and free, shielded by the powerful, radical acceptance that comes only when we know who we are, and with the recognition that we never had anything to hide.

This is not a book about autism awareness or acceptance. It is about the people around autistic children committing to creating an equitable life for every single autistic child.

But what if you were born unable to be accepted into the herd? What if your best self was an outcast, let alone your true self? Autistic people have come to realise that the only realistic and sometimes effective way to receive the approval and acceptance of others is to suppress our true Autistic selves—to hide any manifestation of our Autistic brain, to mask any sign of our differences.

Q: Why do Autistic people mask? What’s the point? Why bother? Why spend our entire lives acting like someone we’re not? A: To fit into a neurotypical world, so we feel accepted, wanted and appreciated.

We also need to teach acceptance. As a society, we are unavoidably pressured to act and behave in a certain way to be socially accepted, but it’s important to remember (and accept) that people ARE different, and it’s OK to be different.

This is also true of disability. Being autistic is not the norm, but it isn’t wrong. The lives that autistic people build for themselves may not be conventional, but they aren’t inferior.

My social isolation was a way of rejecting other people before they could reject me. My workaholism was a sign of Autistic hyperfixation, as well as an acceptable excuse to withdraw from public places that caused me sensory overwhelm.

Justice Beyond Month (Sonnet 1182) Pride that ends with the end of June, is but an episode of looney tunes. Divergence that dies with April's wake, is no inclusion but bark of buffoons. Black history that ends with the end of February, is not solidarity but a hashtag cacophony. Women's history that ends with the end of March, is no celebration but a sacrilege of equality. When AAPI are only visible in the month of May, It ain't no visibility but a mockery of life. When nativeness is welcome till October 15th, It ain't integration but desecration of light. Awareness is justice when it reduces prejudice. But one that's trendy only in specific months, is no awareness but a different kind of malice. Acceptance is awareness, awareness is life. 100 calendars fall short to celebrate mindlight.

If someone were to choose to be gay, that wouldn’t be a problem, because being gay is good. Similarly, Autistic people deserve acceptance, not because we can’t help but have the brains we have, but because being Autistic is good.

My social isolation was a way of rejecting other people before they could reject me. My workaholism was a sign of Autistic hyperfixation, as well as an acceptable excuse to withdraw from public places that caused me sensory overwhelm. I got into unhealthy, codependent relationships because I needed approval and didn’t know how to get it, so I just molded myself into whatever my partner at the time was looking for.