Tag: aspergirls
Please Don’t Hit Your Kids
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?
Autistic Adventures In Ageing (an obligatory birthday blog)
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 .
“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 an Autistic lifeline. Please don’t take them away.
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.
‘My Working Memory Isn’t Working’: autism, forgetfulness and executive dysfunction
My brain is juggling so many things, and if you throw something else at me without warning, the likelihood is that I’m going to miss it altogether or drop it before its first rotation is complete.
Public Service Announcement: bullying lower-level workers is not ‘activism’
His phone call to the charity was shared as a courageous exposé. I had to stop watching after three minutes because I was on the edge of a memory-scarred panic attack.
Blech (or “I’m not very good at being ill”)
The horrible cough-and-cold mixture is the ultimate magnification of all the things that push those sensory overload buttons in my brain.
My Autistic Headcanons (and why I prefer them to most ‘actually autistic’ characters)
These characters were my very own line-up of autistic headcanons. And I identified more with them than I did with the very few characters who were written as ‘autistic’ from the beginning.
An Autistic Guide to Navigating the Workplace
My journey is my journey alone- but I hope that there are some elements of what I have learned that can help.
Why I Don’t Wear The Red Poppy
A century later, arms companies hold remembrance day events, paying with money steeped in the very red the poppies on their lapels bade them never spill again.