‘Childhood was a challenging phase of my life, as it is for many autistic people’

Throughout my upbringing, I was often described as a vocal individual. But I wear that label with pride. I don’t shy away from expressing my opinions or addressing what I perceive as unjust. Rather than conforming to societal expectations of silence, I believe in speaking out against unfairness, even when it challenges the accepted norms.

As a neurodivergent child, I keenly observed that some societal norms, deemed socially acceptable, were in reality misleading and harmful, and I didn’t understand why some people blindly followed them. I mean, who needs a manual on how to fit into a world that often seems like a bizarre circus of contradictions?

I understood early on that maintaining peace wasn’t synonymous with staying quiet, like so many tried to argue; genuine peace is achieved when everyone is treated with respect, and no one is forced to feel silent from sharing their experiences. My inclination to voice my concerns earned me the label of a ‘blabbermouth’ from peers, teachers and even parents over my 23 years.

Oddly enough, such labels never bothered me. Injustice, a thorn in my autistic nervous system, ignited a passion within me to advocate for change through articulate and respectful communication. I firmly believed that tactics like violence were unnecessary when effective communication could address societal issues directly and logically. Why punch when my words can pack one just as hard?

Despite my efforts, the adults around me remained indifferent to the injustices I witnessed daily and the pervasive sense of unsafety.

It wasn’t until I was diagnosed with autism aged 15 that things started falling into place, providing an explanation for my unique perspective. Finally, my life started to make sense, and I didn’t feel like an alien any more.

I never thought there could be any other kids having the same kind of experiences as I did growing up. I guess that’s the result of my small, multi-generational town’s political ecosystem; the whole, ‘it’s fine, you’re fine, we’re fine’ idea had basically infiltrated the water supply.

There are biases knitted into your DNA that you aren’t even aware of if you never leave and see how other people think. That’s why social media started to become important to me. It was like a breath of fresh air in a room filled with the stale opinions of small-town mentality. Social media became a platform where I could share my story and, to my surprise, discover that many others faced similar struggles. The realisation that I wasn’t alone fueled my commitment to advocate for those who needed understanding and awareness, not just for themselves, but for the next generation of individuals like us. Knowledge is power, and there is nothing like the power of the knowledge we share when we all come together.

In the realm of modern media, a tool for real-time global information exchange, representation is more than acknowledgment – it sets the standard for societal perceptions. Proper representation fosters respect, community and understanding, contributing to good mental health. It signifies visibility, conversation and connection, dispelling the notion of isolation.

The decision to create this book emerges from a genuine desire to provide a resource that could benefit others. With my growing following on social media, I recognised the need for a tangible, comprehensive resource that delves into the complexities of living with autism. This resource is not merely a personal memoir but a beacon of understanding for those who may feel similarly adrift in a world that struggles to comprehend the nuances of neurodivergence.

My new book serves as an invitation to dialogue, a bridge between the neurodivergent experience and the wider world.

It is a plea for understanding, a testament to resilience, and a proclamation that every voice, especially those that have been marginalised, holds immeasurable value.

By challenging stigmas through genuine representation, I am privileged to contribute to the ever-growing body of resources that challenge stigmas, promote awareness and foster a deeper understanding of autism.

This book is a testament to the little girl who perceived the world as wrong and challenging, seeking to be taken seriously. I knew I was serious, and the pain and struggle I felt was real and important, and now I get to address the struggles faced by those who grew up feeling misunderstood, lacking the resources they deserved, to contribute to the growing resources about autism alongside fellow advocates.

Childhood proved to be one of the most challenging phases of my life, as it is for many autistic people. Through open dialogue and sharing our experiences, we can enhance our understanding of educating and raising autistic children in a more compassionate, secure and joyful manner – an aspiration shared by all for the well-being of autistic individuals and their families.

Each autistic voice holds significance, contributing to a collective understanding of autism. This book is my effort to verbalise the emotions accumulated over the years, with the hope of improving understanding and communication between autistic children and their parents. It is my wish that those who have felt misunderstood in similar ways to me, might find solace within its pages.

Here’s to embracing the label of a blabbermouth, always advocating for positive change. Because, let’s be real, the world could use a little more blabbering about what truly matters!

But Everyone Feels This Way by Paige Layle is published by Headline and available from 28 March