Somewhere in the wide world of social media months ago, before I severed myself from several factions, I had made what I felt was a reasoned assessment on a fictional scenario between a husband and wife. In the course of that, I mentioned my autism. This morning, I woke up to a rather nasty reply via e-mail. I almost signed back on to leave my response, but thought better. In the end, an internet war just isn’t worth it. I can, however, safely write about it here…

You presume to know whether or not

I am autistic

Based on a couple of comments

On some article

Somewhere?

Was it because I was

Articulate

And you have a stereotype

Of incompetency

Stuck in your head?

Or was it because I didn’t join in

Your lambasting of all men in general

And your misunderstood Aspie husband specifically?

I dared to be female

And yet not a part of your  “I hate men” 

Clique…

I tried to present reason and logic,

Smoothed it with kindness,

Ended with best wishes…

Only to be verbally assaulted,

Accused of lying about my neurotype

So I could feel special…

I realize you have anger.

I even understand a bit.

But, to dismiss a person

You can’t even begin to know…

That’s just…

Sad.

I could draw you a list

A mile long to justify myself.

Almost did.

But, then, I thought, Why?

It’s not worth it.

I know me.

You will likely never know me

No matter what I say.

In the end,

It’s a waste of breath,

A robber of peace-a thing which is

Already too fragile.

So…I shall file this situation

Among the foolishness I’ve known

And just keep stepping…

Gloriously, beautifully

Autistic me…

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