55 Years of Feeling Different

Sometimes in life, we get our answers thru our children. Sometimes it's not us that figures it all out. The description of high functioning carries so much with it for the individuals whose lives are defined by that reality. I have two kids, both extremely intelligent but both way different from the norm, in many ways that are good. After a lifetime of struggling and being labeled in many unkind ways for myself, a group of licensed professionals figured out my child. Everything made sense at that point about both my children, and myself. After all the hurtful comments and degrading things I have been called during my 55 years of not exactly fitting in, I am beyond grateful that my child is kindly referred to as high functioning. Kindness for being different, that is brand new concept for me after living over half a century experiencing everything but that. As we as a family dive into the world of "neurodiversity", we are learning so much. We are actually getting everyone in our family evaluated for autism. It is truly profound to finally find the piece of the puzzle that makes everything make sense. I pray my child has a different experience in life than I did starting out. I pray for my compassion and understanding for anyone different. I have not been formally diagnosed with autism myself but I have 55 years of being a unique individual that support that diagnosis, and am pursuing formal evaluation. I want to know. However, just being able to accept myself as being who I am, and no longer trying to be "normal" is such a huge relief. Somehow the diagnosis of my child gave me permission to quit trying to be normal myself. It is okay to be different. I give my child permission to never be like everyone else. More profoundly, I forgive myself for never being like everyone else. I am now excited to go forth in life and just be me. Being like I am has been very isolating. I may always be in my own little world and truthfully, no one may ever embrace my love for dogs, polymer clay, turtles and washing machines....but I have hope that things will be different and better now that there is understanding as to why we just don't think or act exactly like the norm. I wrote this poem on the day that I got my child's autism diagnosis. The diagnosis was given to me by a group of highly educated, extremely kind, and overwhelming positive individuals. Later that same day, someone very close to me referred to one of my children as the R word...."retard". I was emotionally destroyed at that point. That day was so emotionally draining the way I dealt with it was to write this poem. I write to get it all out and say what I needed to say. When I wrote this poem I was overwhelming crushed and hurt but I knew that the future would be more kind and understanding. This is what it feels like to be me.

The Mask

by Ashli D Wells

Behind the mask is a woman who has her own secret world.

She has existed there with her doggies since she was a little girl.

Sometimes it gets very quiet. Quite often she is alone.

Though few venture in, she is happiest in her zone.

Her world has limited people and only the ones that she loves.

She often keeps her distance and is known to ration her hugs.

Sometimes the world around her goes around like she doesn't exist.

But honestly she is content with feeling nothing outside that she missed.

Her interests are a little bit different from what is considered the norm,

but she always tries to be kind and never causes anyone harm.

Sometimes she gets too happy with excitement like a child.

Her clothes are soft and baggy, and her taste in food is mild.

She is fascinated by dogs, nature and washing machines.

Her new best friend is a turtle. She never gives up on her dreams.

Random people are usually nice and invite her into their worlds.

However no one ever understands or crosses the bridge to the girl.

Folks like the outside package, if they could only change what is inside.

They want her in their lives, but often that bond they hide.

It is like if she could just be different and somewhat mostly fit in,

then perhaps they would claim her, unashamed to be her friend.

What no one seems to consider is that she likes the girl that makes up her me.

She is proud of what she can do and the person they refuse to see.

She has a cool world and in there she is accepted and loved.

When she is hurt and wounded, her comfort comes from above.

She doesn't want to pretend just to fit in with everyone else.

She has things she loves to do and is happiest as herself.

So like maybe someday, the world will open their eyes to see

that it's not wrong to be like this girl, and it's totally okay to be me.