So I'm Autistic?

Autism. A little boy. Antisocial. Loves trains and numbers. Good at maths. Bad at socialising. The weird kid. The outcast. Throws himself on the floor. Tantrums. Not me. Definitely not me. Couldn’t be me. Right?

Turns out I was wrong. Very wrong. Whilst I may not have been that stereotypical TV version of an autistic person, little me definitely displayed some clear signs of autism. Wearing the same ratty tracksuit for weeks. Screaming at Mum to remove the tags from all my clothing. Jumping up and down when I was happy. Lining up all my precious teddies and dolls in bed next to me every night. So maybe I’ve never collected trains or lined up plastic animals in a row, but I also don’t know anyone else with 7 bookshelves in their room, an entire bookcase dedicated to their favourite book series and book memorabilia shoved in every spare crevice of the room. I’ve read my all-time favourite book more than 10 times. I once read over 60 books in 3 months. Safe to say, I might just fit in with the autistic community more than I realise.

My autism assessor, a psychologist that i spend opver 4 hours talking to, seems to agree. After many years of not quite fitting in, unexplained physical and mental illnesses constantly making appearance, and a lengthy referral and assessment process, I am diagnosed.

So, I'm autistic? What now?

Turns out, a lot. I am writing this blog, for starters - sharing my authentic experiences as a disabled and autistic woman. I am becoming an advocate for myself and the neurodivergent community. Keen to join me? Come and hang out on my Instagram @neurosparklysaffy and of course, hang out here for the next blog post.

Saffron, a young woman, sits with her arms crossed and smiles at the camera. Her hair is long, brown and wavy and she is wearing a stripy knit top, a long pink skirt and pink Dr Martens.