When you look at me, what do you see?
On the outside, it sometimes appears that I'm "out of control". I have "anger management issues" or "developmental disabilities", or any number of labels that are often used to describe me. Rather than ask, most people just assume that I'm a bad kid or a dangerous adult. They stop and stare, they whisper behind my back or laugh at me, and more often than not, they make no effort at all to try to understand who I am.
I am your brother, your aunt, your neighbor, your cousin. I am your schoolmate, your co-worker, your teller, your cashier. I feel pain, I feel loneliness, I feel sadness, I feel fear. I could be one of the most loyal, dedicated friends you've ever had the honor of knowing, if you'd just give me the chance. My honesty is often brutal, because I don't know how to lie. I say exactly what is on my mind, because I don't know how to put a polite spin on what I am thinking. I am an expert on some topics, sometimes to the point of obsession. I practice introducing myself to people, because I'm just like everyone else when it comes to wanting friends.
I have autism. It might make me different, but it doesn't make me bad. There are many others like me, and all we want is a chance. Just like you, we want to participate in school and work functions. Just like you, we want to be accepted for who we are. Most of all, we want to belong...just like you.