Adventures of a Shockingly Average 30-Something

Dear Little Me, You're three.  You've just become a big sister, so life is changing so much right now.  It's okay.  You're so smart, smarter than a 3 year old really has any right to be.  The world is big, and you're so little - and you discovered that books are an escape from everything, even though you don't know yet that that's what you're doing, escaping from the confusing and ever changing world into the familiarity of your books.  Hop on Pop never changes no matter how many times you read it.  One Fish Two Fish, Red Fish Blue Fish is the same story every time.  Fox In Socks? Green Eggs & Ham?  The entire series of Spot the dog books?  No matter how big or loud or scary the world is, they stay the same and there’s something comforting about that.  Something about that feels safe and just feels right.  And that's okay.  There isn't anything wrong with you.  You're autistic; you just don't know it yet. Don't Take Th...

So I posted on Facebook about being diagnosed as autistic.  And the world didn't end.  That previous post on here, I had it saved in my Notes app on my phone and kept editing it, making little changes here and there, until I was happy with the way everything was worded... and then I waited and waited and waited, waiting for the "perfect" time.  But with all the shit going on in this country, the ignorance and ugliness, the comments from RFJ Jr (the most unqualified person for his current position) emboldening people further to wear their hatred with pride under the guise of "finding a cure for" or even "preventing" autism, I realized that there was never going to be a perfect time.  So I copied what was in my Notes app, opened up Facebook, pasted it.. took a deep breath.. hit post... and immediately closed the Facebook app.  I didn't want to see what people would say. When I opened the app again a few hours later, I was surprised by what I saw.  Th...