She said I was “delightfully quirky.”
I grew up just being a big ol’ weirdo. One day long ago, while driving with my mom–I can’t even remember what wacky and surely self-deprecating story I was telling her about some big ol’ weirdo thing I did–she said I was delightfully quirky.
Now I’m 47 and learning something pretty huge about myself. I’m trying on some new labels and things are starting to make sense. Since I’ve only begun my research, I’m not sure what will fit or feel right, but there’s autistic, on the spectrum, ASD, ASC, Aspergers, Aspie, neurodivergent, neurodiverse, neuroatypical… I’m currently on a waiting list to get an appointment to eventually get an assessment/diagnosis, but until then I’m going to figure out as much as possible.
I’m female at birth and female presenting (although not super into it–more on that later). Child-free and have been with the same partner for 24 years–he’s super supportive and has his own set of undiagnosed quirks. We live in Chicago again (we were born here) after bouncing all over the country for 20 years.
As a habitual writer, of course I’m documenting it all. And since awareness of this condition in women is still relatively new, might as well do it publicly.
Feel free to reach out via email at firstname.lastname@example.org or on Instagram @micheletruty.