My path to self-acceptance.

I was 12 when I got the diagnosis: Asperger's syndrome. I didn't know what to make of it or even how it made me different; I basically just assumed I wasn't and life went on regardless. But then -  DUN, DUN, DUN! - came puberty. At 14, the reality of my diagnosis very much kicked in, coupled with anxiety issues surfacing then. I remember that phase so vividly, and I deeply regret how I handled it (particularly at school), but I still struggle to articulate my thoughts on those memories.

But even if they've contributed to adult Jarred, they're not the key point here. From diagnosis at 12, I never disclosed it until I was 19, to my then-partner. I've never been more scared in my life, but I got the words out and she took them easily. Admittedly, for all those years in between I was indescribably self-conscious about having it; it had taken me so long to make that many friends, I didn't want anything to jeopardise that, you know? (But for the record, I now know none of them would've cared. I've unfortunately fallen out with some since school, but all for unrelated reasons, and now I suspect at least most of them knew I was different - I can't hide it, and over five years they must've seen me a few times at the (although I resent this term) special education unit.)

And then, after that phone call when I was 19, it was still a few years before I could fully come out as autistic (with all due respect to the LGBTIQ community, coming out can also be a thing for us). I attribute that, along with my family's and other friends' support, to having studied Arts at university. That field attracts many unashamedly crazy types, and I do mean that affectionately (I'm no exception anyway). But once I overcame my former self-consciousness about having Asperger's, I felt genuinely liberated and still do. And if anyone mocks or excludes me for it, that says much more about them.

Now, despite that I've actually never regretted keeping quiet for so long about being autistic. That's because everything about that part of my life has turned out okay (which I appreciate, especially as I know for many of my siblings on the spectrum that's not true), and sometimes you just have to see where life takes you.

But there'll always be others following in our footsteps. So, to anyone, young or old, who's in any minority and struggling with that: you have nothing to be ashamed of, although publicising your difference is your choice. And becoming ready to come our happens subjectively. But as cliched as it sounds, when you're ready, you'll really just know and feel it. And I promise you won't regret it.