There’s been a lot of attention on autism through social media recently, and it’s become somewhat of a buzzword. To some extent, this is positive—it breaks some of the stigma surrounding the spectrum and raises awareness. But it’s also led to a wave of people self-diagnosing (nothing wrong with that, as long as it’s not a misdiagnosis or used as an excuse for poor behavior). However, the overuse of labels can sometimes be harmful.

Discovering you’re on the spectrum (ADHD and Autism) in your early 40’s is, to put it bluntly, really f-ing odd.
When my therapist first suggested it, my immediate reaction was, “Absolutely not, I’m an empath, what a ridiculous thing to suggest.” Then I spoke with some therapist friends of mine, and one by one, they all agreed—some even said they’d known since they met me (for over 10 years). News like this is not easy to digest, and it had my head spinning like a tumble dryer for many days. Once the dust had settled and I could finally process the information, I started talking to my friends. It turns out, like attracts like—over 90% of my close circle of friends are also on the spectrum. Hurrah, we move in packs! Vibe with your tribe!

Since my diagnosis, there have been many “aha” moments. Suddenly, it all made sense—why certain social situations are so difficult for me to navigate. It explains why I gravitate towards facts, my overwhelming desire to do people please, often to my detriment, and why it takes me a second to read between the lines (flirting? Never been my thing). Let’s talk about sensory overload—specifically loud noises. I always thought I didn’t like being around children because, well… children. Turns out, I actually have a good reason to steer clear of them now!
It’s also helped me understand how I like to support my friends: I’m absolutely terrible at comforting anyone who’s crying (I want to give them a pat on the back and hide in another room until they’re done), but I do want to use my pragmatism to fix, help, and support. Looking back, this is probably why I started Pineapple. People I loved were hurting—people who deserved care were uncared for—and this is how I knew to “fix” it.

Being on the spectrum didn’t just give me the drive to start Pineapple; it gave me the problem-solving skills to create a structure that would work and scale. It’s why I can approach things from a different angle and build systems that support people effectively.

There’s an interesting intersection between social justice and autism, with the two being highly intertwined, as many autistic individuals possess a strong sense of justice and may become distressed by injustice, advocating for change and challenging perceived unfairness. However, autistic people also face unique challenges and discrimination, requiring social justice efforts to ensure their rights and needs are met. What is strange to me is that this desire for social justice is seen as a “symptom of a disability”, and the sad reflection this gives of society today.

Throughout my childhood, I was called weird, felt excluded, and always knew I was different. As an adult, I’ve learned to harness these idiosyncrasies and thrive because of them. Being different, unique, that’s our superpower. Not just for those on the spectrum, but for every single one of us. Embracing our quirks and accepting our weird, wonderful selves is the biggest step we can take toward happiness. For those of you who feel like you don’t belong, like everyone else is speaking a different language, know that you aren’t alone. The world is full of people who are just like you, waiting for the space to be themselves. Accepting others without judgment and pushing ourselves to question bias is how we create a more inclusive, understanding, and united world. Together, we can make the world a place where we all belong.

Why Fit In When You Were Born to Stand Out? – Dr. Seuss