When my parents had announced that they were going to have a baby boy, I was excited. I envisioned the things I would do to be a good older sister and all the fun activities I could do together with my new sibling. However, things didn’t turn out as expected. As we grew up together, I noticed that my brother didn’t seem to be like the other kids. He didn’t talk until he was three, he had unexpected verbal and motor jerks, and he reacted to social situations strangely whenever he was approached. Reaching out to professionals, my family and I found out he has autism and Tourette’s syndrome. It was hard for me to adjust to him at first whenever we were in public places. Receiving strange looks was not uncommon, and sudden outbursts whenever he felt upset were difficult to manage. However, the hardest part for me and my family wasn’t the fact that he is not as cognitively able as others nor was it because he behaved differently from others. It was the fact that he was aware of the exclusion that his autism and Tourette’s brought to him. When my brother entered middle school, I remember the exact moment he came up to me and asked, “Why doesn’t anyone want to be friends with me?” He knew that something about him was different, but he didn’t know what it was. That was when I realized something about autism. It isn’t a disability that renders a person incapable of intellectual thinking as many might think. Living with my brother, I recognized that people with autism perceive the world not too differently from others; it is just difficult for them to react and deliver their intentions in a way for others to understand. Knowing this, I learned that even with his autism and Tourette’s syndrome, I could still do the things I wanted with him: being a good older sister and engaging in fun activities together. I adapted to him and was receptive about his behavior and tendencies in order to better interact with him. I brought him along to eateries, arcades, and hangouts with friends where he absorbed the environment around him to not only gradually build his social skills, but to also experience the world the way other people do. I wanted to teach him that even though he might be different from others, the world is a big place—too big to close its doors on him. In turn, he taught me that exclusion originates from misconception, and that inclusion requires the courage to redefine and reconstruct traditional views and opinions. Being open-minded about the different types of people we will meet as future physicians is important in fostering a nurturing environment. As a physician, I hope to encourage others to think about things from different perspectives when encountering situations that are not often encountered. That way, we can lower the chances of bias and exclusion for those we want to care about.