I remember years ago when I visited an art gallery for extra credit. I saw a door with a note telling me to take off my shoes after I enter and before I proceed down the dark passageway. It also told me to do whatever felt natural. I followed the light to an enclosed space with dirt and leaves all over the floor. A swing was hanging from the ceiling in front of a projection of a girl swinging in and out of the darkness. At first, I hesitated and just watched the girl dip in and out of existence. Finally, I gave in and sat on the swing. My bare feet brushed against the leaves and dirt as I worked up some momentum. As I swung back and forth, childhood memories swung back into my brain. I saw myself swinging in my neighbor’s backyard because I didn’t have my own swing set. I’d try to touch the sky with my toes. That little girl didn’t have a care in the world.

May you always find the time to swing your cares away, Lauren. Happy Day of Birth!

Dear Future Child That I May Or May Not Have,

I want to be honest with you and tell you that I’m autistic. I can’t fully explain it all at once, so I’ll tell you what it is as simple as I can. It means that I extremely admire certain things and topics that most people wouldn’t. It means that my surroundings can be pure hell from the sounds that I hear to the things that I feel. It means that it might take longer for me to understand something depending on the subject. It means that I can’t always find the words that I’m looking for. It means that I’ll shut down completely if I’m pushed too far. It sounds like a terrible thing to experience, but it’s different for everyone on the autism spectrum. I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t have family and friends who take the time to understand me and give me what I need.

If you’re a biological child that I will give birth to, then you’re most likely going to be autistic like me, especially if your father is my current autistic boyfriend. You are going to be confused by anything and everything as you grow up. Nothing will make sense, you will feel anxious for no reason, and your peers will tease you for being different. I’m currently fighting for a better world so that you won’t have to grow up in the same hateful world that I grew up in. I will always be there for you no matter what. You will have to be patient with me because I’d be a disabled parent trying to raise a disabled child, but I will be the mother you need. Also, you should know right away that “disabled” isn’t a dirty word. It’s totally understandable if you occasionally get frustrated and wish things were easier, but I want you to wear your autism on your sleeve as you grow up. I grew up hiding mine, and I wasn’t truly happy with myself until I was an adult. I want you to be happy and true to yourself from the moment you’re born.

If you’re a child that I’m destined to adopt, then chances are that you won’t be autistic. If you end up being neurotypical (non-autistic), then I must ask you to be patient with me. Society might view you as an “easier child to raise” because you’re nowhere on the autism spectrum, but motherhood is going to be a challenge for me no matter what kind of child I get. We’re going to have different routines to follow, and I’m going to be more stressed out than you. Even if I’m burnt out and feeling the need to crash on the couch, I will be there for you. Please understand that I’m not saying that you in particular are what is wearing me out; just about everything wears me out. I’m just going to need a few breaks every now and then as you get older so I can have the energy to do everything that you want to do.

Regardless of whether you’re biological or adopted, or even autistic or neurotypical, there are people out there who will declare that I shouldn’t be your mother. It’s sadly common for disabled mothers to have their children taken away because society doesn’t think they’re fit for the job. I may be disabled, but I’ve worked in childcare for years and I’m more than qualified to care for a child of my own. Don’t listen to them. This ableist society we live in will try to find a reason to tear us apart, so we must work together to prove them wrong. I won’t let them force you into a home that you don’t belong in. We are meant to be together.

If I do end up being your mother, then I can’t wait to meet you.

Love,

Dear Chloe Hayden,

You don’t really know me and you’ve only responded to some of the things I’ve tagged you in, but I’ve been a fan of yours for about three years now. Even though we’ve never officially met, we have some things in common; we’re both autistic writers, actresses, and advocates. We’ve both challenged how autism is represented; you’ve done so through your book and your appearance on Heartbreak High, and I’ve done so through my articles and plays. I may not be as well-known as you, but I admire you and hope to do what you’ve already done. I aim to have a published and well-reviewed work about autism, and I would love to play an autistic character who truly challenges how autism is portrayed in the media.

I’ve recently ordered your book and can’t really comment on it yet, so I’ll talk about your character Quinni from the Heartbreak High reboot. The moment you made the announcement about your casting, I was hyped. I was never really into teen dramas at any point in my life, but I was willing to give the show a chance because you were in it. I’m glad that I did because not only did I get to witness an amazing show with excellent writing, but I got to see the best depiction of autism I had ever seen in my life. I’m sure plenty of viewers have already told you this, but you have no idea what Quinni means to me.

I was diagnosed as autistic somewhere around the age of three, but my parents didn’t tell me until I was seventeen. At that point, I was already an outcast with very few friends. Since I grew up with a secret negative view of autism, I didn’t take the delayed news of my diagnosis very well. That is, I didn’t take it very well on the inside. I looked surprised and confused on the outside when my parents told me the truth, but my insides were slicing themselves up from the center and working their way up to the barrier between my skin and muscle. Sorry for getting a little graphic, but that’s exactly how I felt, and it took me years to finally accept this part of myself.

The main reason why I took the news so hard was because of the lack of proper representation of autism I had growing up. The bit of representation that I did see on TV was just recycled Rain Man and not really anything I could really relate to. Although I did grow up with some autistic-coded characters who were similar to me like Lilo from Lilo and Stitch and Ariel from The Little Mermaid, there were no autistic characters that made me say, “Look! She’s just like me!” If I had seen an autistic character like myself on TV before my parents delivered the big news to me, then maybe I wouldn’t have slipped into an even bigger depression.

If the Heartbreak High reboot had come out when I was a teen, it would’ve helped me through a lot. I could’ve shown some scenes from the show to my friends in order to properly explain what I went through on a daily basis. Only one of my high school friends knew the truth before I finally came out of the autism closest in college, and maybe the Quinni scenes would’ve made me more confident to come out sooner. Every scene that she appears in just oozes autistic accuracy, but there’s one scene in particular that I need to praise. No, it’s not the “Ok Sia” scene that everyone talks about, although that scene is straight fire. I want to talk about Episode Six where Quinni gets to meet her favorite author. The entire episode was relatable from Quinni getting ready for the day to her suddenly having to fit Sasha into her plans that she had set weeks or even months ago to the pure joy on her face when her favorite author encouraged her to write a book. The scene that I want to point out is when Sasha pulls out the victim card and tries to blame Quinni for taking her to the book signing, even though she invited herself to the event that her girlfriend had planned to go to even before they started dating. Poor Quinni just assumed that Sasha actually wanted to go, only to be gaslit as she’s joyfully declaring that she wants to write a book. Her own partner couldn’t even be happy for her and only cares about a party. Then Sasha acts like it’s so hard being a neurotypical person with an autistic partner, but Quinni points out that she’s the only one of the two who actually has to live with autism and runs home in tears.

This scene hit me harder than any other scene in the show because I’ve been there so many times. I’ve lost count of how many times someone I cared about offered to do whatever I wanted to do, only to gaslight me and act as if I’d forced them to do it. I can do whatever my loved ones want me to do without admitting that what they’re putting me through is pure sensory hell, but I’m the villain if they offer to do what I feel like doing. It’s like whatever makes me feel comfortable or happy is wrong. It’s a situation that just about every autistic individual has been through, and yet I hardly see it depicted on TV. I can imagine how hard it must’ve been to film that scene, so I applaud you for bringing it to life. It’s a common autistic experience that more neurotypicals should be familiar with.

I know that you already know this by now, but you’ve changed autism representation for the better. I really hope that I could follow in your footsteps and bring a new autistic icon to life. Keep doing what you’re doing, love.

Your fan,
Catherine Burford