I feel like an imposter in my own neurotype. And, in a room full of people I know I belong with, I find myself thinking: but what if I don’t?
But why, oh why, was I locked in a toilet doing my ‘calming down’ checklist in the middle of the afternoon? Two words: forced socialisation.
I’m 26 now, and I still smack myself in the legs when the world gets too much. Do you really want to take that risk?
Seeing Norbert Neurotypical – with his banking job and his wife and his baby and his mortgage and his vegetable couscous lunch – just makes me feel like a fraud playing at being an adult .
I have a strange and wonderful and terrible and contentious relationship with this time of year.
“It’s not about how you throw the ball, but how many pins you can knock over” – An Absolutely Unnecessary Bowling Metaphor
I realised it was okay to work with what I have, rather than trying to work with what other people expected me to have.
Quiet carriages are absolutely a lifeline for disabled people like myself. Some days they are the only reason I have the emotional energy to succeed at work.
The definition of success seems to depend very much on the frame that you’re looking at it through. And the frame of my ‘success’ is the neurotypical gaze.