For a long time, when I spoke about autism, I’ve spoke about it as a mum.
A mum of two amazing autistic boys.
But recently I’ve been thinking more about something else…
Me…
My own autism…
And when I look back on my childhood and teenage years, so many things suddenly make sense.
When I was younger, life often felt harder for me than it seemed to for everyone else. I didn’t understand why I was always so exhausted by the end of the day. I would come home feeling completely drained, irritable, and quick-tempered. The smallest things could tip me over the edge.
At the time, I thought there was something wrong with me.
Now I realise what was really happening.
I was masking… All day long…
I was constantly trying to copy how other people behaved, trying to say the right things, trying to react in the “normal” way. I watched people carefully so I could blend in and not stand out too much. But masking like that takes an incredible amount of energy.
By the time I got home, I had nothing left.
Another thing I struggled with was sarcasm.
People would say things that everyone else seemed to instantly understand, but I would take them literally. When I realised everyone else had been joking, I felt embarrassed and confused. It made me feel like I was missing something everyone else naturally understood.
And that feeling stayed with me for years.
One of my so-called friends even referred to me as “dippy”.
It was because I didn’t always “get” what people meant.
Those moments stuck with me far longer than the people who said them probably realise. They made me feel small, and they made me feel stupid — even though I wasn’t.
Looking back now, I can see that I was simply a neurodivergent girl trying to survive in a world that expected everyone to think and communicate in the same way.
I just didn’t know it yet.
When I eventually realised I was neurodivergent, something inside me shifted. Suddenly so many pieces of my life started to fall into place. It didn’t magically make everything easy overnight, but it gave me something I had never truly had before.
Understanding.
I began to understand why certain situations overwhelmed me.
Why social situations could be so draining.
Why I needed quiet time to recover after busy days.
Why things other people brushed off could affect me so deeply.
Slowly, I started learning about myself in a way I never had before.
And instead of seeing those differences as flaws, I began to see them for what they really are.
Part of who I am…
These days I’m still learning. Still growing. Still unlearning years of believing I was “too sensitive”, “too emotional”, or “not getting things properly”.
But I try to be kinder to myself now…
Because that younger version of me — the girl who felt confused, exhausted, and misunderstood — wasn’t broken.
She was autistic.
And she was doing the very best she could.
