I was diagnosed with autism only a few years ago. For most of my life, I was told I was too loud, too excited, too clingy, too intense — always “too something.” I also have alexithymia, which makes understanding and expressing emotion difficult. Most of the time I feel nothing at all which people rarely understand. Until an emotion breaks through, often as anger that leads to shutdowns where my mind and body simply switch off. I mask heavily — and have masked every day since nursery — which means most people never see the full picture of my autism.

My lived experience shapes how I write. My worlds run on emotional logic — a system I’ve had to build consciously because alexithymia means I don’t instinctively feel it. My sensory abilities help too: I can smell when an ingredient has changed, hear electricity in the walls, and spot tiny shifts others miss. But I also experience overwhelm, shutdowns, and social difficulty. Autism is my superpower, but it is also a recognised disability, and I write with both truths in mind.