My aunt was a teacher and she was always bringing up autism & ADHD stuff with my mom, with me in earshot. Mom would get mad and dismiss everything and then rant about how I didn’t need to get labelled for the rest of my lives. I couldn’t really interact with kids my own age, hated high-pitched loud noises and bright lights, spent a long time learning how to do everything (but knew it inside-out once I did), had a ton of gastro-intestinal issues, and got constantly berated by my mom for info-dumping (“why aren’t you this excited about our lord and savior?”) If I had a word cloud of everything my dad said to me as a kid, “WHY ARE YOU SO SLOW” would be in the biggest set of words. Mom homeschooled me as well, so I never got feedback from teachers or professionals.

I can think of at least three times in my teens/adult years where I flat-out told my mom “there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I need to take medication? Or maybe talk to someone?” and she always just suggested we ask god for help. Then dad would take the phone and start praying. Every single time.

I graduated with straight As in CS (and a low A in engineering), and brute-forced my way through learning socialization and culture. On the outside I’m a success story, but I mostly got there by hurting myself. I was always the golden child who could do no wrong and the disappointment that obviously didn’t want to do the right thing. Well, I still am, but I’m in a much better space mentally. I’m married and have a daughter who is at least as weird as I was at that age. I really hope I can be kinder to her than my parents were to me.