Without Apology: Embracing My Neurotype in a World That Resists

I haven't been doing the Instagram lately. I've still got my account because memes make a day better but deleted the app from my phone. Why? Because every time I go on some form of social media, I see videos or articles that show exactly why whole grown adults cannot comfortably and safely share that they are autistic and I cannot deal with it anymore. 

RFK Jnr's latest word vomit has really got me. 'Autism has ruined families' 'Autistic kids will never go on dates or pay taxes' 

Excuse me?! 

This is the reason why, whilst I proudly declare being neurodiverse, the autism is said quietly. The shame that still comes over me when I share my neurotype is huge because I'm so afraid the listener will demote me to 'not capable'. It is why I would hide in the toilet at an airport or event to get some breathing space instead of asking for a quiet space to regulate. 

The narrative of 'deficiencies' and 'problem behaviour', of being a burden, as an autistic person is so ingrained that when I hear it, I feel it chipping away at the self-acceptance I've worked so hard to build.

We're not burdens. We're people with different neurological wiring who navigate a world that wasn't designed for us. We pay taxes. We fall in love. We contribute meaningfully to society. We experience joy and heartbreak. We are fully human.

What burdens autistic people isn't our autism - it's the ignorance, the stereotypes, and the harmful rhetoric from public figures who should know better.

I'm tired of having to prove my humanity. I'm tired of feeling like I need to minimise parts of myself to make others comfortable. I'm tired of successful autistic adults being treated as miraculous exceptions rather than evidence that the problem was never us.

I often avoid being in photos or videos because I'm worried about not being able to control my expressions. I don't want to look 'too autistic' in case it confirms someone's biases. But why shouldn't I be able to experience and express joy freely? Why should I have to mask my authentic reactions?

So I'm speaking up. Not just for myself, but for every autistic person who deserves to exist without apology. For every parent who needs to know their autistic child has a bright future ahead.

Being autistic isn't the tragedy. The tragedy is a world that still struggles to make space for neurological diversity.