Autism is needing a visual schedule even at age 30.
Autism is the joy of flapping your hands when something makes your heart sing.
Autism is needing to allot hours to performing basic skills.
Autism is objects ceasing to exist if you can’t see them.
Autism is reveling in the good textures – running your fingers over every bump, curve and rivet.
Autism is finding a pair of headphones that makes going out in public bearable.
Autism is holding a bachelor’s degree but working in a drive thru.
Autism is echolalia.
Autism is seeing details that others miss.
Autism is being able to recite pages and pages of text that you learned when you were sixteen but unable to remember something you read an hour ago.
Autism is the fantastic feeling of not needing a weighted blanket because your (also autistic) seven year old is more than willing to press herself on top of your chest.
Autism is explaining to a new friend every last detail of your latest obsession and being overcome with relief when they don’t call you a freak.
Autism is joy and it is struggle.
Autism is not a tragedy or a health crisis.