“Autism in young girls.” Even the cover frightened me when my mother showed interest in the book. When asked why she had the guide saved, she answered: “Because it’s interesting!” However, deep down in my gut, I knew this reason shrouded various undiagnosed suspicions. When I was young, autism spectrum disorder used to be a concept I feared. Being different from my peers had been a fact I deeply hoped was not reportedly true. There were times as a young teenager when my anxiety heightened with every speculation. My chest tight and mind spinning, I avoided the fact that the evidence proved otherwise. In navigating friendships, communication had always been a battle I wished to avoid. When conversing with friends, I recall rummaging for the right words to fit into the “social script,” but instead of succeeding, my efforts to stuttered sentences, misread social cues, and feeling less than. I marveled at how communication came easy to my peers, but the moment I opened my mouth, trying to spark conversation, I was tongue-tied.
These challenges had continued for such a long period that I gradually adapted to the fact that my struggles went beyond an "awkward-teenager" phase. Finally, my autism diagnosis came in my sophomore year of high school. Through processing the news, I was surprisingly not angry or fearful. Instead, everything began to click like a puzzle piece, the possibilities of self-discovery becoming more interesting.
Although I continued to wrestle with insecurities that lurked around the corner, I coped by depending on my core values and safety net through my parents, friends, teachers, and academic case manager. I recall these special people applauding me for my selflessness, resilience, and writing talent that shaped my identity. Through my support system, I caught a spark in myself that I kindled, reminding me that I can succeed as a black, autistic writer.
While becoming more familiar with my neurodivergence, I leaped to pursue high school extracurriculars that challenged my social anxieties. With my involvement in Link Crew, a mentorship program to guide 9th graders through their high-school transition, I learned to be a role model to those who need it. The organization revolves around communication, significantly confronting my weakness in a positive light, and easing myself into situations to rise above my fear rather than avoid it. I take pride in facing my social anxiety with such determination that, when at times I stumbled in my speech, I was not as disoriented.
Understanding autism grew to become a blessing as I knew more about where my actions stemmed from and why. By exploring this unique part of my identity, I am learning to give myself grace with a newfound dedication to love myself alongside my challenges. Over time, I have thoroughly embraced my neurodivergent identity. Knowing that this discovery initially appeared daunting, my self-confidence gradually spiked further than I could have thought by learning to accept my differences.
I aim to lift the African American and neurodivergent communities from which I belong to achieve their long-term goals despite social struggles. Nobody deserves to feel underrepresented, and I am looking forward to exploring ways to bring awareness to the issues such diverse groups face in this society, specifically through the narratives I will craft as a storyteller. Despite personal challenges, anyone is capable in a critical, constantly changing world. I am beyond excited to inform others that autism was never a rejection but a pathway to acceptance through the generation I will uplift.