I've been blessed to have so many wonderful women in my life. They've taught me many lessons over the years, like how to be strong, and how to stick up for myself. Those same women have nurtured me with endless love and care, molding me into the person I am today. My best friend has been by my side through situation after situation; deaths, losses, sorrow, and joy. She's comforted me through it all. My grandma has watched over me since I was a child, at times spoiling me with tenderness, and at other times, bestowing me with firm guidance. My mother stayed at my side every time I was sick, tending to me until I felt better. When I came home from school, upset and nearly in tears, my mom would hold me tight, whispering that it would be okay. Through tempers and tantrums, my mother weathered it all with the patience of a saint, a smile always on her face. These amazing women have taught me to love and value myself, while still showing consideration to others. They've truly shaped me into the woman I am today, and I couldn't be more thankful. These are just a few of the women that have influenced my life, but every woman is strong and beautiful in her own way. Although it was International Women's Day recently, women deserve to be treated with respect and care all year round. Everyday is another chance to let those women know just how special they are. Because they deserve it. Always.

I work as a Service Coordinator for infants and toddlers with developmental delays within California’s Regional Center system. The types of delays we provide early intervention services for range from simply monitoring the development of preemies all the way up to providing support for children who will be bed ridden and on a ventilator for their entire lives. In my experience, of all the developmental delays we help with, autism is probably the most stigmatized. Many people see it as an end to human potential. We see it as taking a different journey through human experience.

I won’t lie, optimism isn’t always easy, especially when you are dealing with parents.The hardest part of providing early intervention autism services often happens before the interventions even start. You see, many parents bring their little ones to us due to concerns surrounding speech delays. While the parents or the pediatrician may just see that the child isn’t developing communication skills, the speech pathologists, infant development specialists, and service coordinators doing the initial needs assessments may see signs of autism in the kiddo. Based on these observations, it is our duty to relate our concerns to parents who are often expecting to hear that their child just needs speech therapy. Frankly, I would rather be punched in the gut while being simultaneously kicked in the groin than tell loving parents that their kiddo is showing some signs of autism. Unfortunately, that is exactly what my job and the job of the wonderful speech pathologists and infant development specialists doing the needs assessment entails. We get to bring up the, “A” word.

Thankfully, the early start autism intervention programs (ESAIP in Service Coordinatoreese) that work with these little ones do wonders in both addressing the identified delays and providing the family with strategies that will help their child overcome whatever their obstacles may be. A formal diagnosic assessment for autism is often provided (by a child psychologist) while the child is participating in these programs. Understandably, the formal autism assessment is terrifying for many parents, but we always try to reassure the parents that even if the child is found to have autism they are still their child. These wonderful children are just as capable of laughing, learning, having friends, and loving their mommys and daddys as any other kiddo.

I guess the big take away is that having autism is not the end of childhood and the promise of a, “normal life.” What having autism is, in short, is a path through childhood and life that looks a little different. I look at it as taking a more scenic and eclectic route to get to where everyone else is headed. The good news is that the more we learn about autism the better the interventions become. So, there is no reason to write a human being’s potential off based solely on a few words taken from the DSM V. Oh, and for fuck’s sake, vaccinate your kids! There is no legitimate, scientific evidence that links autism to vaccinations.

We all knew I was different. Friends and family used all sorts of words to describe it -- eccentric, emotional, quiet, weird, blunt, gifted, shy, geeky, quirky. Those words were mostly fine with me; I even added crazy to the list on occasion. I don't know what words other people used.

It's been less than a year since "autistic" got added to the list of descriptors. There were a few reasons no one realized what was going on sooner. For one thing I was female, and even now a lot of providers don't understand female autism. I excelled at school, so no one thought to look for something typically associated with delays. I was homeschooled, and since that CLEARLY meant I spent all my time chained up in the basement with no interactions with kids my age, no one thought to look for why I had issues with social skills. (*Disclaimer: Yes, that was sarcasm. Many autistic people enjoy using it*). I think the biggest reason, though, was that we had all only heard of autism as something bad, wrong, and terrifying that meant the end of everything. I had problems, sure, but little ones, nothing a little love and patience couldn't overcome.

Therefore, it was only as I was preparing to begin graduate school that my family and I pieced together all the little things that added up to something glaringly obvious in hindsight. The need for structure and routine, the problems dealing with groups, the anxiety, the sensory sensitivities, the lack of a filter, the face blindness, the difficulty discussing emotions -- all of them, symptoms that were chalked up to the way I was. I suppose that's true in a way. Of course, there were other traits I had that pointed to autism: loyalty, at times overwhelming empathy, rational decisionmaking, honesty, hyperfocus, curiosity, and intense passion for topics that interested me. I think it's important to emphasize the good points of being autistic, since everyone and their pet goldfish already know about the bad.

In some ways I'm glad I didn't get diagnosed until late in life. I didn't have to put up with the stigma surrounding autism, from well-meaning condescension to fear and malice. I was able to explore my passions without worrying about what I was and wasn't supposed to be able to do; as far as anyone I cared about was concerned, I could do anything I put my mind to. It also meant that I got the diagnosis on my own terms, though even then the psychologist I saw came close to writing off everything as a product of homeschooling before settling on Asperger's Syndrome.

In some ways I wish I'd been diagnosed earlier. It would have meant a lot to know that I wasn't the only one who struggled with faces and not just names, that there were other people who had to think about how to tell the truth without hurting feelings, that other girls like me also skipped makeup because it wasn't worth feeling it on their faces all day. In other words, I wish I knew I wasn't alone. Maybe then I wouldn't have felt quite as much pressure to pretend to be like everyone else.

I may have been resistant to peer pressure, but some expectations got pounded into me through sheer volume. Listen when people talk (and you're not allowed to get mad even if literally everyone else interrupts you). Judge people's intentions by what they say (and then they get mad at you because they meant something other than what they said). Smile for the camera, no not like that, show your teeth! (Thus why there are almost no pictures of me actually smiling). Unspoken corollary: "appear happy at all times at all costs" (hence why I still bottle up my feelings). Sometimes it feels like death by a thousand cuts, where even if I follow the strange rules I still get in trouble one way or another.

Long story short, my autism may have caused me problems, but a lot of them are because society expected me not to be autistic. It's something I wouldn't change if I could, not just because it's a part of me, but because of the positives listed above. Then again, I'm sure there are a lot of people out there who would say my perspective doesn't count because I've lived most of my life undiagnosed and because I couldn't possibly understand what life is like for people on the "low-functioning end of the spectrum." (I personally find that language problematic -- see this link (https://the-art-of-autism.com/understanding-the-spectrum-a-comic-strip-explanation/) for a good starting point if you're interested. This website is also good: https://autisticnotweird.com/).

On a lighter note, here are a few of my special interests over the years: earthquakes, volcanoes, rainforests, caves, the Enigma Machine (in particular Marian Rejewski's role; Polish WWII codebreaking contributions STILL don't get the credit they deserve), UFOs, and planetary science. Probably also TV Tropes and Rejected Princesses if I'm being honest with myself.

Roses are blue,

Violets are red;

Enough has been heard,

Nothing has been said;

Regret the success,

Celebrate the mistake;

Aim for first fail,

Dread when you place;

Dream of your fears,

Run from your hopes;

Flee from your friends,

Run toward your ghosts;

Strive for ignorance,

Rebel against success;

Love when you're last,

Hate when you're best;

Follow your head,

Ignore your big heart;

It's good to be dumb,

It's bad to be smart;

Beauty is hated,

Ugliness is loved;

Light is from below,

Dark is from above;

The game is beginning,

The explanation is done;

Reverse all last words,

These are fun ones.

Too used to being warm,

Forgot how to be cold.

Too used to being free,

Forgot how to be sold.

Too used to being rich,

Forgot how to be poor.

Too used to being love,

Forgot how to be hate.

Too used to being outspoken,

Forgot how to be quiet.

Too used to being satisfied,

Forgot how to be needy.

Too used to being strong,

Forgot how to be weak.

Too used to being me,

Forgot how to be you.

How is it

Our society justifies

Lying to children

Inundating them with

Delusions of some

Amount of magic

Yet denies faith?

#kidsdeservetruth

#itsbeginningtolookalotlikebullshit

#bereftofbeliefasconsumerismsupercedes

#tistheseasontoshutthefuckup

It's been said that one man's - woman's! - trash is another person's treasure, so I thank all of you, my followers, for treasuring those works which I often think of as trash. Even when I've called my stuff "ca-ca" (*cough*) shortly after posting something, you guys - gals! - come out of the wordwork to applaud me and pass my words on, thereby warming the cockles of my heart. When I think I'm just a hopeless wreck who should never again dare to pick up a keyboard, pen, pencil, crayon, you go out of your way to assure me that I should, in fact, pick up a crayon - or even a keyboard, on my really good days! - again, and I am so thankful for that.

So thank you, one and all, my reliable quicker picker-uppers for lifting me when I need it most, for not pointing out my nakedness when I have bared myself to you, for not telling me to get a life. Because writing IS my life, and I am so grateful to you all for breathing along with me.

I'll also grudgingly add that I'm "thankful" for when you've called me on it when I've put my less than best foot forward on something. I wouldn't be getting better without you.

P.S. I know I haven't been as present as I have been in the past, but rest assured, I am around, and I do still care and love you all.

Slurred stanzas,

Sambuca smooches

Serve salvation:

Squalid circumstance

Squanders sanguinity;

Still somehow survivors smile

Stubbornly