Quiet Strength: Navigating Life with Autism and Sensitivity

Throughout my life, I’ve struggled to accept certain aspects of who I am. Being labeled shy from an early age has always felt like a burden. It held me back rather than being something I could embrace. I’ve found it rather challenging to work in group settings, and difficult to keep up socially.

I find it exhausting having to navigate conversations. I’m mentally drained and overwhelmed most of the time. I’ve always wished that things were different. I’ve longed to be the extrovert. The outgoing, confident, and effortlessly expressive person. But sometimes you can’t reverse what’s already been predetermined by genetics.

I think the word, shy, creates this false narrative about someone. Just because people are quiet and reserved doesn’t mean they don’t talk to people. It doesn’t mean that they don’t push themselves to do things spontaneously. I just think that everyone has these preconceived ideas about what being shy is. People often assume shyness equals social awkwardness, which can make them hesitant to engage with us. I’ve had a complicated relationship to this word specifically. It gives me the willies.

Another part of myself that has been hard to accept is my difficulty with communication. I can articulate my thoughts perfectly in my head. However, when I try to express them, they come out as a jumble of words. They don’t quite make sense. It’s frustrating, and it leaves me feeling embarrassed and shameful. It reinforces my fear of judgment and rejection. My sensitivity to rejection (something I now recognize as Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria) has made it hard to put myself out there. To risk vulnerability, and trust that I am enough as I am.

Despite these hurdles, I’m learning that self-acceptance is a process. It takes some time to really get to know the real you. Everyone comes to terms with things at their own pace. Instead of trying to fight against these parts of myself, I’m working on trying to embrace them. I remind myself that being quiet doesn’t mean that I lack value. That struggling with communication doesn’t mean that my thoughts aren’t important. My sensitivity isn’t a weakness; it’s what makes me deeply empathetic and intuitive.

I’m slowly starting to shift my mindset. After learning my diagnosis of autism, everything came full circle for me. It was difficult to accept at first because I didn’t want to take away others’ struggle with autism. But I realized it is in-fact a spectrum. My place on it is mine in my own unique way.

I don’t want to shame myself for being more, or less than. My difficulties in social settings, and my communication troubles are indeed signs of autistic traits. Women especially carry different symptoms compared to men. That is why it is difficult for women to get a proper diagnosis. They are incredibly overlooked.

I’m starting to learn that self-acceptance doesn’t mean complacency. It means that recognizing who I am, understanding my challenges, and approaching myself with compassion rather than criticism. It’s not easy retraining your brain to think differently. These qualities are innate and can’t be changed. It can be improved with gratitude and self-care, but it can’t be undone.

All I can do is take small steps to make a difference. I’m starting to practice patience with myself when I’m struggling to communicate. I remind myself that my worth isn’t dependent upon on how socially fluent I am. I allow myself to take breaks when I’m feeling drained, rather than forcing interactions that are overwhelming.

If you’ve ever struggled with accepting parts of yourself, know that you are not alone. Self-acceptance is a journey, and every small step toward kindness and understanding makes a difference