harsh times require gentleness not force

I’ve stopped looking at my subscriber count because that’s not what I wanna focus on. I’ve started entering my account in a way I don’t see the stats immediately and also don’t get notifications for likes anymore. All of this creates a dependence on external approval but this is not what the creative journey and writing is about for me. It’s naming the messy, uncomfortable things and also the nuances people sometimes don’t wanna see/hear/feel, myself included. As I’ve written before, I’m sieving through life’s existential questions with my writing, but honestly it is also about the magic of the mundane. It’s about humanizing, animalizing and plantizing for me. I’m dreaming of co-habiting with cats more. Although, I haven’t written about it in a while anymore, I’m still learning from my tree friends. I’m reading a wonderful book right now called “Racism as Zoological Witchcraft” by Aph Ko, which makes me reflect a lot about the connection between racism and animal rights. Highly recommended. Anyways, recently I mistakenly saw my subscriber count again and saw that the numbers had dropped a bit. It made me think that for some it might be a bit intense reading about my mental health struggles and how I am navigating a miss*diagnosis. That’s totally okay. I understand that. That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop writing about what feels true, authentic and necessary from my perspective. However, I’m going to encourage you to practice your agency. You’re free to leave, to mute, to pause, to disagree, to come back, to leave again. Anytime. On my side, as someone who writes so vulnerably about their life, it’s important to not internalize other people’s actions, discomfort, disagreement or even silence and lack of response as failure.

I’m not defined by other people’s actions but my own and that’s a lifelong lesson.

I’m also not defined by other people’s definitions. I’m not bound to a definition of autism that makes me fight for belonging.

I’ve realized that the fear of “not being autistic enough” is just as silly as “not being trans enough”. I’m just me. I’m not trying to be anyone else. There’s no point in trying to prove one is “autistic enough”. This is not a competition. There’s no badge of honor for fitting a definition perfectly. Nobody wins when someone invalidates their experiences.

I don’t need to simplify the complexity of my experience. I’m autistic but I also have an array of special interests. I change so consistently because I’m constantly learning, which might make me seem unpredictable and unfocused. I always bring something new to the conversation too, not just the same old. I have varying obsessions and I struggle to finish projects sometimes. All of this might be where I’m ADHD, but generally I’m not forgetful and messy. I stay on top of things too. I just get too exhausted to finish them. I’m autistic and I’m not always rigid. I can be very stubborn around my views, but also deeply understanding.

Even if every single person was autistic and trans, so what? Not that that’s the case, but that’s what the fear-mongering is about that these are just trends. There’s not a limited number of people who are allowed to be autistic and trans. There’s no cut-off. Being trans and being autistic used to be viewed in a binary way, now both are considered a spectrum.

I get that there are people who are invisiblized by this broadening of definitions and belonging. We have to make sure they don’t need to fight for belonging either or feel pushed out.

Let’s move our gatherings from meeting rooms with assigned seats to infinite space.

On the other side of my “failure”, is all the invisible magic that isn’t accounted for in numbers, stats and likes that I’ve been expriencing lately. True care and friendship.

A bonus of being a writer is that most of my friends knew about my experience with being miss*diagnosed because they are reading Mixed Magic and I didn’t have to update each one of them. They just reached out to me and offered their support. I just wanna say thank you and that I see you. Thank you for supporting me!

The way that I know I still have so much of my autism to unmask is that I fear that if I truly showed up with all of my autistic quirks and needs, I’d lose all of my friends and community. It means that I would have to ask clarifying questions sometimes if I don’t understand how they mean something, or tell them that our connection is platonic for me, because I can confuse friendliness with flirting and can get really anxious about misunderstanding someone’s intentions, which can come off as rejecting, annoying or offensive. It means that I would be more unavailable at times, because I need so much time to recharge. It means that I can go to a lot less social events and need to cancel a lot. This is scary. I don’t go to protests at the moment because I once tried being at one with my noise-cancelling headphones on and I felt so rude. Just as it feels like I’m standoffish, if I go to an indoor performance with my sunglasses on. Or if I just don’t speak to anyone or I don’t greet everyone I know with an enthusiastic smile. People have interpreted my lack of going to long activist meetings discussing conflicts in person as avoidance and lack of accountability, when in truth I was trying to prevent a meltdown or shutdown from happening in front of everyone. My long written messages weren’t accepted as contributions to the conversation. It had to be in person, which I can now name as ableism. The problem with not being recognized as an autistic person when you have the struggles of an autistic person is that people blame you for something that isn’t your fault. Being autistic doesn’t mean I’m not accountable for my actions, but the offense some people take at me having different needs and a different communication style isn’t my responsibility. The way that people expect accountability to look like can be exclusionary and traumatizing. There’s also something about the speed of it all. I need more time. That’s why slowness is so important in my sessions.

I went to see a psychiatrist recently and similar to how I felt in psychoanalysis that I had to educate my white therapist about racism, this feels like I have to educate this psychiiatrist about autism. He still believes that people with autism lack empathy and have reduced intelligence. He doesn’t yet understand that both occurs on a spectrum.

No worries, I’m advocating for myself and already sent a ton of articles. I actually believe that I’ll get the diagnosis eventually. It feels inevitable but expensive. The place I went to for my miss*diagnosis was the only place I could do it for free. Another psychologist who is specialized on autism and ADHD that I’ve written already about a second opinion, has the next avaible dates in October 2026. It would cost 1.050€. Whether or not I get that money back, depends. Others have it even worse.

In a beautiful turn of events, not being believed that I’m autistic based on outdated diagnostic criteria that is both racist and sexist (ADOS-2), I actually feel more sure than before that I’m autistic. It’s only been since 2013 that clinicians even understand that you can have both autism and ADHD. Before that was considered impossible.

I love all my ADHD friends and probably family members. I truly get along with people who mainly identify with ADHD, but when I read about ADHD there are so many parts where I do not relate and where autism describes my experience better.

What I’m learning is that: If you identify with something strongly, that’s not a coincidence. It’s likely that you ARE that. It doesn’t make much sense that autistic people see themselves in me and I see myself in them, if we didn’t have a lot in common. It’s more been autistic people who’ve told me: “I can really relate.”

However, every autistic person I’ve met is more than their autism. If one day, they decide to identify differently or choose a different label, that’s valid. The language we use shapes us and we are also shaped by that language. Many people don’t have a say in being labeled autistic or not. I believe that we can care for people’s needs without labeling them. At the end of the day, nobody likes being put in a box. A lot changed when I stopped identifying with BPD: a label that was put on me. I would even encourage switching up labels, because it adds texture. While looking confusing to others, it actually can create so much more clarity. It’s a way to get to explore more facets of ourselves and it shouldn’t be frowned upon or policed.

It’s important to cultivate community around more than just labels. That gives us a deeper sense of safety and belonging: To know that, even if we didn’t identify as something one day anymore, our community would still see and love us for who we are. We are not the labels, we are the journey we go on with or without them.

Today is a day I want to dedicate to knitting and upcycling clothes. Yes, there are at least ten books on my night shelf. I’m in indulging mode. I also sleep with two blankets because I cannot afford a weighted one. I think the medication I got to help me sleep sooner is working. A bit too well.

Below is a mediation for my paid subscribers to create space for their unique creative journeys to be as unique as they are. I’ve been trying to push myself to finish my mini-novel, but instead I’ve chosen to shift the focus. The paid subscription is no longer primarily about finishing our creative projects anymore. It’s first and foremost about CALLING BACK OUR CREATIVE ENERGY. Finishing our projects can be a beautiful side effect of that. I actually trust, it will be. Eventually. We’re going through harsh times, collectively. It’s not the time to push ourselves to achieve anything. It’s a time to slow down and find gentle creative activities that fill our cups. 🌘