Am I different? Are we all supposed to act, think, walk, speak the same way?
Many of the problems we Asperger have in our daily life could not exist at all if only people stopped telling us they are problems. Is that really a problem if I don’t feel like looking you in the eyes when we talk? Do you really mind me telling you what I really think and don’t lie about your haircut? You say it’s a problem that I can’t change my routines without getting anxious; does it really affect you? Alright, I’m different, I like to spend my time playing the piano and reading alone at home but, is really a problem for you?
I always take things too seriously. Sometimes I don’t get your jokes. I’m not able to do more than one thing at the time. I find small talk boring and useless. I can talk about dendrites and axons for hours and don’t notice you’re almost asleep. I may be rude, but never meaning to be so. If someone chews noisily next to me I run away. I get crazy when my upstairs neighbor walks with heavy shoes. I hate going to the beach all day long, just find it boring. I can’t stand physical contact from strangers, and hugs make me feel trapped. I can explode over stupid things, suddenly, and a minute after that, smile as nothing happen. I don’t like parties. I don’t like strangers. I don’t travel a lot because it breaks my routine and I feel lost. I’ve got no sense of direction whatsoever, and get lost every time I go to a new place. And, by the way, going to new places scares me every time. I need my silence, I need my space, I need my time. I love to be by myself.
But, can you believe it, I would be fine as I am, ’cause I don’t feel strange at all. The thing is this: I think I wouldn’t have the half of my problems if you didn’t tell me they are problems. I wouldn’t feel wrong or different or weird if you didn’t tell me I am. Because I think we’re all different, unique; we all have our likes and dislikes.
You know what makes me smile? That I should be the inflexible guy here, the asperger, the one who doesn’t like changes, who’s scared of trying new things. I’m the autistic who rigidly sticks to his routine and thoughts and stereotypes. But you… you’re the normal one, you like to travel and visit new places, you love to try a new restaurant every week and eat exotic food. You are the one who should find differences enriching and exciting. So why do you judge me, why do you push me to be more open? Why should I find it funny to sneak into a party when you know it would give me a heart attack? Again, you’re the cool guy, you should be the one who understands. The one who doesn’t judge, who doesn’t bully me for who I am.
I could be happy, If only you let me be myself.