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Autism in Women

A clover blossom with the following text next to it: We are here! We are here! WE ARE HERE!

I have a tattoo on my arm – well, actually two. The first says, in cursive, dura mater. The second is a clover with a tiny speck on it.

Like many people who work with children, I believe they are autonomous, brilliant beings with a right to respect and agency.

Because, after all, a person’s a person no matter how small.

I’ve dedicated my life to that belief.

However, the tattoo has another meaning to me.

I self-identified as an autistic for about three years before I received my formal diagnosis. I was terrified to be open and honest about my thoughts.

I had been rejected by the social norms of society all of my life; I didn’t think I could have handled rejection as someone on the spectrum, too.

But then, I found them.

The lost girls. The women who never clicked with a clique.

The ones who were too much or too little.

The drama queens, the emotional messes. The dreamers. The anxious overachievers.

We’ve been diagnosed with everything from eating disorders to borderline personality disorder to manic bipolar.

But we were autistic. We were receiving the wrong supports in toxic contexts.

We were autistic all along. We are autistic. We will always be autistic.

We are here. We are here. We are here.

We are here.

If you are self-diagnosed, it is enough for me. I welcome you fully into the sisterhood and celebrate you. You’ve found your community. Send me a message and I’ll happily invite you into my favorite autistic spaces. 💛

You’re not alone anymore. We are here.

If you were born female, identify as a woman, or are non-binary, I highly recommend the Autistic Women and Nonbinary Network, AWN.

They have guided me to a deeper understanding of myself.

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