Finding Out I’m on the Autism Spectrum Has Been Rough on My End
But, for some eerie reason, not everyone else’s.
As a kid, I had a few peculiar “favorites.” I loved Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street because I appreciated the sentiment of wanting to be left alone, as a natural loner child. I loved Helga Pataki from Hey Arnold because I found her backstory fascinating. I loved Lisa Simpson from The Simpsons because we “Lisas” need to stick together.
Two of them are terribly ironic now: I also loved both Miss Piggy (the Muppett) and Ursala (The Little Mermaid). And no, not because they both happen to be plus-size — though the fact that I went on to be fat most of my life is indeed ironic. I loved them because even though neither character is perfect by any stretch — heck, one is the villain in her story — they possess this aura of fabulousness. This zing.
They had these huge personalities I could connect to on some level, which is difficult for me to do with people in real life. People who have an aura of fabulousness tend to do it for me. Despite being awkward as hell all my life — not to mention so painfully shy to the point of being borderline misanthropic — I have always had a slight flair for the dramatics. I’ve been told I come across as “entertaining” sometimes.
