An Autistic Woman

Autism and Expectations

What is it about being a woman that makes me happy? I don’t know if I can answer that. Being a woman just is. It carries some burdens and some joys.

I’ve spoken about Bras before (Link here), and how much I loathe them, I’m not sure I’ve really written much about my experience of being an autistic woman, perhaps the time has come.

I grew up wild. A farmer’s daughter with hundreds of acres of mountainside as my playground. I spent my days with muddy knees, riding my bike with a stick as a gun, or hunting through rusty old farm tools to find treasure – metalwork bent into a pleasing shape, a long-abandoned tool, so many treasures.

I would run, surefooted, along high walls, battling pirates and orcs. My writing reflected my play; punctuation had no place in the stories I wrote. They stretched on…

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