I'm Me

Who I Am

"Julia, it's time to go!" Mom told me. When I had completed my makeup, I put my ginger hair in a half-updo with a khaki colored hair bow. As I wore my gingham dress and tan overskirt, I felt as though I was in a fantasy film. Life would be more interesting if I lived in a fantasy movie, seeing all the magic and adventure.

There might be a knight in shining armor waiting for me. In my imagination, there were an infinite number of possibilities.

"Julia, what are you waiting for?" my mother asked me again. Back in the present, I blinked and said, "Sorry, I'm on my way!" After grabbing my backpack, I hurried down the stairs.

It's probably best if I explain what has happened so far. I have autism, and every person experiences it differently. For me, I have a habit of zoning out and I tend to live inside my head, imagining things. I know I'm sixteen, so I should act my age, but I don't see why we have to stop being imaginative as we grow up. In my opinion, imagination knows no age limit.

In my childhood, I used to carry certain toys around and wouldn't let them go, according to my mother. Any deviation from my normal routine would make me anxious.

The change wouldn't make sense to me, and I was sure it would affect me badly. My routine gave me a sense of control and a plan for living as normally as possible. It is sometimes difficult for me to accept that I am disabled, and I sometimes wish I were a fully normal person. I wished I didn't overthink or freak out over the smallest things.

Despite my disability, I am who I am.

Most of the time, I'm not ashamed of who I am because Mom always tells me I see the world the way it should be. That was one of the things that made me feel better about myself.

Dad meant well, but sometimes I annoyed him without knowing why. Whenever I told him something I learned from a favorite movie, he waved me away and told me to leave him alone. I felt as if I couldn't tell my father anything without feeling judged during moments like those. It's hard for me to figure out what's wrong with me.

My closest friend was Rachel. I was never made to feel like a freak by her or that all that I had to offer was my disability. We were like sisters to each other. We have done everything together since first grade, and we have always supported each other.

I was happy, and my life was good.