I stand in the parking lot with other autistic people. We have our own festival. We sing, play guitar, dance. We blow bubbles that sparkle and rainbow in the sunlight. Our festival is small but our collective voices are loud and only getting louder. We are not unloved. We are not unloving. We are not alone.
The above quote is the last paragraph contained in the post below, but I believe worthy of being the lead here. The post is the first in a series of three. Links to parts two and three are contained within the post, but are included here for convenience.
PART II: The Critique
PART III: The Secrets to the Success of One Neurodiverse Couple
Yet another article taking an eraser to the autistic experience, removing it from existence entirely.