I've been on a gradual journey for the last few months, where I ponder the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I'm most definitely #autistic.
I'm going to get assessed later this year, but I'm pretty sure I know the outcome.
How did it take me 40-ish years to figure this out?
Weirdly, I think part of it is that I am happy. My baseline has always been a cheerful one. I've had a mostly easy life so far. That's not the image we are sold of neurodiversity.
Maybe it should be? At least in part.
I've only realized that this label might fit, because of spaces like this (Fedi) and of course the wider blogosphere, where I can read other peoples' experiences.
I've learned so much about our different ways of being - and when I turn that towards myself, I can see that a bunch of you think the way I do.
And apparently that makes us unusual! :-D
I've always been OK with being unusual.
Which I think is in itself a positive autistic trait, as long as society doesn't harshly punish you for it.
