By: Bao Nguyen
“Am I really autistic?” I asked in the kitchen.
“Yes.” My sister responded.
“Don’t worry too much about it, you only have little traits of Autism. You’re perfect.”
Months later, my mind came back to a conversation I used to have with my sister.
At first, I was skeptical about that. But after a month of researching about Autism, I finally began to understand why I faced struggles in the past. Now, I’m ready to share my feelings about my experiences.
I was about to accept that I’m different, but that was until I came across some article that talked about the giftedness of Autism. I’ve heard a lot (or too much) of how autistic people have had shared their experiences; gifted with barely any social skills. I’m born with struggles. There are other autistic people that are not so gifted; yet they have decent social skills with at least some sensory issues. I’m born with no sensory problems. I wasn’t trying to compare myself to other autistic people; I learned that Autism is a spectrum. I personally felt as If god accidentally gave me a wrong version of Autism; I knew god predicted that I’m too powerful to fit in this world, so god decided to create me with struggles instead.
It feels wrong for me to decide to write this. But let me tell you, these are all feelings I have right now;
Worthless. Hopeless. Hurtful. Jealous. Talent-less. Rejection. Excluded. Pity. Chafed. Huffed. Crippled. Anguish.
Not so much jolly myself.
Born with struggles.
God chose that because I’m too powerful to fit in this world.
Still feels sorrow for me to write this.
Who am I? Do I have any purposes in life? Why do I feel as if I’m different from most people?
In this not-so-seamless world, most people I see are normal. Regardless, the struggles I’m born with have nearly obstructed me. I may have talents, but no matter how much talent I have, it never fulfills the talent itself. I am smart, but my learning difficulties have invalidated my intelligence. I’m gifted, or barely. I have good social skills, but a lot of anxiety brewing in my body every time I’m supposed to meet new people (even worse, meeting teenagers or at an age below what I’ve not met yet) and worry that they’ll exclude me for being different. I’m friendly, but my brain is sometimes vague on words, so that I might end up being rude for saying defective things by accident. I’m human after all, but why does my autistic brain think that all humans look like a pet sometimes?
That’s not to say that my autism defines me. All of my struggles in science, history, math, and health in classes I’ve taken. Now the only talent that I’m left with; Writing stories.
I remember my teacher gave an assignment to students to write our story for Halloween. I did, and my teacher enjoyed mine. If you want, I’ll write the same story that I’ve written in the past, although my original story has lost, I remember the story almost entirely.
Who knows what will I write after I die? Will I still write in somewhere that is beyond this world? I don’t know, and will never be able to.
As long as I keep expanding my English skills, and share my stories with my families and other people, maybe someday people will call me a gifted writer.
Bao is a junior at HPSH. He likes to read books and do things on his computer (sometimes games). He is eager to gain knowledge and learn new skills. He likes to write stories, although he’s still on a journey of studying the structure of English. Favorite classes: piano and career classes.