“I hope I can read this tomorrow without getting upset,” a friend of mine recently wrote in a chat. Inside my brain, I felt the cogwheels start creaking and gaining momentum. I scrolled up the chat history to see if
I have lived my life as an Autistic. I only found out aged 46.
I was relieved because it gave me so many answers to questions that had always plagued my existence, but it left me vulnerable. I was suddenly
What a joy it is was to make art. It used to be my whole world, and I devoted my life to it. Something strange happened though and it stole my creativity from me for a number of years. I