A Letter to My Younger Autistic Self
Dear David
When you were growing up, people used to say that Autistic people were “trapped in their own world.”
You pictured it like a bubble; transparent but sealed. Able to see everything, but never quite touch it.
That idea confused you deeply, especially because your mother was fighting so hard for you to be recognised as Autistic. If autism meant being cut off from the world, then why did you feel too connected to it? Why did everything feel so loud, so intense, so emotionally close it almost hurt?
You didn’t feel trapped.
You didn’t feel separate.
What you felt was overwhelmed; by colours, sounds, emotions, expectations, grief, and loss. You had learned what autism was supposed to be from people who didn’t live it, and their stories didn’t match your reality.
What did feel true was this: despite your deep connection to the world, it didn’t feel like the world belonged to you. The people who saw you as “trapped” also saw you as a tragedy. Something broken. Something to be pitied or fixed. You grew up feeling like you were the wrong kind of person in a world built for someone else.
So this is what I want you to know; from the other side of time.
I am Autistic, as are you. We have lived, survived, struggled, and grown. We have worked alongside other Autistic people for many years. We now use science, philosophy, and lived experience to help make sense of who we are, not as problems, but as people.
And this is the truth I carry back to you:
This world does belong to you. And you belong in it.
Even when others insist you are “trapped”.
Even when they design systems that exclude you.
Even when they make you feel like your existence is an inconvenience.
You are not an error in the code of humanity.
Humans, like all living beings, exist within ecosystems; complex, interdependent, beautifully messy systems where diversity is not a flaw, but a requirement. People like me. People like you. We are not optional extras. We are essential.
Our ways of sensing, thinking, feeling, and connecting are part of what makes this world vibrant, resilient, and alive.
Yes, there will be moments when being Autistic feels impossibly hard. There will be people who tell you that your pain proves you are broken. They are wrong. Difficulty does not erase belonging.
Hold on. I promise you this; you will find places, people, and ways of being where the world stops feeling hostile and starts feeling like home. When that happens, you won’t just fit into the ecosystem, you will help it flourish.
The world needs you.
You are not here by mistake.
You are exactly who you were meant to be.
With love, solidarity, and hard-won hope,
The David Who Survived