by Elliot I recently started a medical role working in the NHS. As a black, queer, non-binary person with autism, I’ve found it a strange yet eye-opening experience. Learning how […]
When I got my diagnosis two years later, everything started making more sense for me; every time socialising had gone pear-shaped, every time my sensory overwhelm had made me angry and ‘difficult to be around.’ All of those times I had never fit in with others were simply because we weren’t wired the same.
It’s not easy for me to speak publicly about my autism, in large part because I’ve been taught all my life that ‘good’ autistic people are those who are not visibly autistic.
I’ve known some online forms to literally only give 2 options for gender. It’s paralysing. Hovering over those two alien concepts. It’s almost worse when they add a third, ‘prefer not to say’ choice. As though anyone who doesn’t fit neatly into one of the binary options should be embarrassed about it; as if it’s something we must want to hide. No, I DON’T ‘prefer not to say’; I prefer to have my enbyness recognised.