Who am I really?

What makes me...me?

What's true to my being

Versus what people see?


I'm a masked player

Up on the stage.

Open-minded

But set in my ways.


I'm tired, but restless.

Energetic, but fatigued.

I endure all the miles

to cope with my needs.


I live in the mountains.

But I was born by the sea.

Adobes and sand dunes

Are where my spirit flies free.


I molded a mind for mountains

But I've grown a coastal soul.

I find comfort in warmth

But I thrive in the cold.


I'm reserved, but friendly.

Instinctively shy, but kind.

Introverted from the start

But I edited my mind.


I seem to know everyone.

I was taught this was the goal

To be a socialite

And avoid being alone.


I'm a determined dreamer.

I strove to achieve

The expectations of others

But, I've found what I need.


I present as outdoorsy

But I'm a nature girl at heart.

How people may see me

Was wild from the start.


I animate and write.

I love creating art.

To make is my nature

Something I can't depart.


I'm beautiful

But I act pretty.

I'm goofy

But present as witty.


I'm passionate

but stoic.

I'm thoughtful

But overthink it.


I'm a philosopher who's distracted.

That's why I repeat.

I rewrite wisdom

To help guide my feet.


I act confident

But I was born insecure.

It took many years

To uncover my "normal" form.


I'm a willful wanderer.

I'm timid but tough.

I can trek so far

Not knowing what's enough.


I attach to attention.

I tend to crave more

Of the love people give me,

But detach from what's adored.


I want the consistency

Of a level and linear coastline.

But I crave the novelty

Of meandering mountains at times.


I'm a starving artist

Who feeds on motivation.

I'm here to support

But I need to be supported.


I'm creative

Because I struggle.

I'm strong

Because I'm weak.


I'm an explorer of mountain peaks.

Internally, I'm lost and curious.

I explore many things  

That pique my interest.


I'm easily overwhelmed

But I'm an adapter.

I'm disorganized

But I'm a planner.


I'm a mentor

But I could be someone's mentee.

I'm a good listener

But I need someone to hear me.


I'm sensitive and empathetic

But sometimes apathetic.

I'm emotional and kind.

But I often feel numb inside.


I want to be capable

But sometimes, I’m unable.

I'm so often sentimental

Because life is unstable.


I've shown submission

To disguise my difference.

I've circumvented confrontation

To achieve some acceptance.


I was a late bloomer.

But I've pruned and grew flowers,

Flowers grown to hide my thorns.

But I uprooted and found power.


It's hard to collect my thoughts.

But it's easy to collect things.

So much in life changes.

But my things remain the same.


My achievements alone do not define success.

My best effort is my success's foundation

Through my effort alone,

I am a champion.


I dislike change

But change means growth.

If I'm not growing

I'm dying at most.


I'm interesting

Because I'm different.

I'm unique

Because of my interests.


I'm forgetful

But I'm hard to forget.

I'm easily flustered

But I've learned to reset.


I love birds.

Because, I long to be free.

I want to fearlessly fly

To be freely me.


I'm easy to get along with

But once hard to understand.

Now I'm learning myself

To show who I really am.


I'm a wonderful ******.

Neurodivergent from the start.

I am awesomely Autistic.

And I have a good heart.

I am "Josephine Wild."
I am 35 years old.
I am an artist and an ultra runner.
I experience the world differently.
I wake up.
I work and workout.
I play.
I eat.
Then I sleep.

I see things like design and shapes.
I focus on the details.
But I try to see the bigger picture.
I look at typefaces and fonts.
I get hyper-focused.
I like to work.
To make.
To create.
Day after day
This is what I do.

I am never finished.
I date things
Because I lose track of time.
Time is against me.
So, I learn not to waste it.

Sometimes, I make believe.
But I am not a child.
I am grace.
I am strength.
I am beauty.
I am determined.
I have a good heart.

I live in my own home
With my husband.
We share the same bed.
I have toys and figurines.
I collect them.
I arrange them.
They always stay the same.
They bring me joy.

I am easily distracted.
I like to escape.
I can run away with my thoughts.
I’ve learned to domesticate my emotions.
I am an artist.
I am wonderfully weird.

I like people too.
They are beautiful each in their own way.
It’s nice to connect with people,
To feel loved.
Now, I know that I am so, so loved.
It’s hard to let people go, especially when you love them.
I know that I’m not alone.

I am apart of this world.
I just experience it differently.
But sometimes, I don’t feel free.
My life isn’t easy, but it’s a gift.
Life wouldn’t be great if it was easy.
I’m easy to get along with, and now I understand.

I love music.
I love to sing.
The music I like doesn’t need words.
I’m sometimes without words.
I search for them.
I need them quicker than they come.
But that’s OK.

I try my best to better myself.
I am not wrong, I am different.
When I fall, I reset.
I try not to cling onto people, but it’s hard.
I’ve learned to forgive myself.
I’ve learned to love myself.

I make more of an effort to think things through.
I have succeeded at leaving my comfort zones.
My effort is success.

I am not a problem.
Life is opinion. The universe is change.
And I’m always changing, always growing, always living.
I have grown a good heart.

I am awesomely autistic.

I’m rocking back and forth against the hull of my loneliness,
Stuck in knowing it’s goodbye
But not being able to say I love you
or I’m sorry.
I’m crying with joy and longing as I lie in the love and conversation around me,
Wishing it were my own.
I’ve been high so long my heart rate stopped going down with the sun.
Going over it all all over and over all the time.
I feel like a child again, terrified by the world, the dark, the wind.
I’m breaking down in the line at the gas station.
Looking out the glass wall at a Lovecraftian highway,
Flickering florescent lights like the ones from The Exorcist.
On my way to a cavernous husk of a family dinner,
Most of them gone now.
Just me, my mother, and my widowed, bereaved, great aunt.
There’s a stupid old cardboard cutout of a mascot next to me grinning too widely, holding up its product.
I scream and tear it’s head off it’s body
In my mind.
I have work on Monday.
This is life.

i once met a caterpillar
she was quite pretty

i remember

she would smile
and sing
and love
and cry
and mourn
and fear
and hide

outstanding, i thought
now, even baffled
watching her
cocoon

silk is costly
and she lacked
expenses

but she
continued

and continued
and continued
and continued

until

the
cocoon
stopped

it was rare
but the caterpillar could feel
a metamorphosis
approaching

so she closed all the blinds
tacked curtains’ edges
settled in her corner
swallowed by her covers
relished in the darkness

and got on her laptop

You people never took me seriously
For you, I was just a problem child
Who needed to be molded
According to your whims and fancies
You never saw me as an individual
Who has his own thoughts, feelings and emotions
My opinions never mattered to you
You wanted me to improve my verbal communication
As well as my body language
But you never even tried to understand me properly
It never occurred to you
That there is a reason why I am different
Or even if it did, you never truly cared
What bothered me the most, though
Was the fact
That you believed you were acting in my best interests
Of course, it was my mistake
Not to leave this accursed country
While I had the chance
And seek my fortunes elsewhere
A mistake I may probably regret
For the rest of my life
Anyway, as Arabella Figg once said
"There's no good crying over spilt potion"
I was a fool to listen to you
But I have progressed in life
Far more than you would've expected me
And not because of you
But in spite of you
Well, I would love to meet you one of these days
And prove to you
That verbal communication is overrated
Just like you yourselves are
We autistic people can do equally well, if not better
As compared to you neurotypicals
Who are obsessed with correcting others
Well, please look into the mirror
And just leave us alone
Worse than an enemy, is an NT with a saviour complex
Well, we can see right through you
You may think you are being kind and empathetic
However, in reality, you are just a bunch of condescending wankers
Who believe they are always right
Well, there is nothing wrong in having your own views
Just try not to force them down our throats
I will end on this note
Autistic people are human beings too
It is time you learned to appreciate that