For those of you who are trying, please don’t take offense to this poem. It is just an expression of my sadness. I set high expectations of strangers. This is more my fault than theirs, but I have decided to share just because it may help in understanding. I do appreciate the work being done by strangers, we are all trying…

Amid the crowds and chaos, I stand,
in a world designed for the neurotypical clan,
Well-meaning folks, with their own pursuits,
raising money for autism, amid hollers and hoots.

Car events and boat shows, raffles galore,
Autism walks and runs, all to explore,
But in this buzz, I find it tough to speak,
my stuttering draws sad eyes, and I look weak.

Loud music, overwhelming, too bright in the sun,
drinking, smoking, not meant for everyone.
Raising money but not discussing the autism plight,
No time for us, Am I doing this right?

They listen, they nod, and then they move on,
the interruption of my autism gone.
Their interests are valid, but can’t they see,
this culture’s not built for autistic diversity?

Defeated and unsure of what went wrong,
Thought autistic events were where we belong.
But it seems they’re meant for typical people to feel good,
A realization that hurts more than not being understood.

I tried, but I failed to fit in,
The noise, the smoke, the sun, the din,
I thought these events were for people like me,
But they seem to be just a charity spree.

The world can be overwhelming and loud,
Full of neurotypical crowds,
Well-meaning but too busy to talk,
About autism and its unique walk.

Good people, yes, but focused on their own,
Not the autistic community alone,
Raising money but not talking about,
what we face, what it’s all about.

I feel defeated. Did I do it wrong?
Thought autistic events were where I belong,
But now I see, they’re for typical pleasures,
Not a safe space to share our measures.

I wish there were spaces designed for us,
Where we could share, connect and trust,
A world where we don’t need to pretend,
with differences seen as a beautiful blend.