Are yyou weak? Are you strong? A photo of superwoman mid-leap.

Why I Stopped Pretending to Be “Strong”

Today I’m thinking about weakness and strength.

“I envy you that you can afford to be weak,” a friend told me years ago. It made me think. Probably mostly because of the paradox. If being weak is something enviable, why do people attach a negative meaning to it?

I don’t consider myself weak. I used not to mind people attributing this quality to me because I don’t see myself that way. I’m not weak. I’m open about my feelings. And that’s not very common in today’s society, so much so that people can even find it unpleasant.

I think that calling people “strong” or”weak” is nonsense. I don’t think there’s such a thing as “weak” – it’s the same as trying to define the concept of “normal”. People are more complex than the artificial labels of “strength” and “weakness”.

Being autistic is... for example, being fascinated by the little things, like the woman in this picture, who is watching a violet flower that hides a part of her face.

Being Autistic Is… 

This piece is inspired by the famous blog post by sci-fi writer John Scalzi, Being Poor. Every autistic person is different, so while these are the little things from my everyday life, yours may be something else completely. As they say, when you have met one autistic person, you have met one autistic person. But maybe you will see something of yourself in the following lines. 

Being autistic is holding your breath when you pass a person on the street so you don’t have to smell them. 

Being autistic is pretending that the way you dress is just your style, so intentional, instead of the only clothes you can bear to wear. Pretending that you don’t really want to dress nice.

Explaining ADHD: a chalkboard drawing of a head with squiggly arrows going out if it, and text that says "My ADHD mind".

Explaining ADHD: What I Want My Dad to Know About ADHD

A while ago, I wrote a blog post titled What I Want My Mum to Know About Autism, and it ended up being one of my most-read articles. In it, I tried to give voice to my struggles and my needs, tried to explain the differences. From the beginning, I intended to do something similar for ADHD. I get ADHD from my mother’s side, and she doesn’t understand my autistic side, while the autism I inherited from my dad’s side, and he needs a bit of help with understanding and explaining ADHD. This blog post is not only for my parents, but for every reader who needs the words to explain themselves to their loved ones. You can borrow this blog post to help your family and friends understand and explain ADHD a bit better. So, here goes:

The times I didn't die: A woman's face part visible through a curtain of leaves

The Times I Didn’t Die

I didn’t die. Maybe I should have.

The doctors said I had stopped growing when my mother was pregnant. They said I would be mentally retarded. My parents were proud, so proud, that I turned out to be gifted instead.

Their first child.

My mum was under great stress when she was expecting me. She and my dad lived with my great-great grandma, and she was bossy. When the mother has anxiety during pregnancy, there is a strong probability that the child will inherit that anxiety as well.

What I remember from regression therapy:
I don’t want to be here. Can I go back?
I want to shrink, to disappear.
I don’t want to have this body.
Oh God, do I have to do this? Let me out, let me out, please.
I don’t want to be here.

AuDHD in Women: A smiling woman stands against a bright yellow background, wearing a yellow shirt with small black dots. She holds two colorful, star-shaped straws—one pink and one yellow—up to her eyes, playfully using them like glasses. Her makeup is vibrant, with yellow eyeshadow and glossy pink lips, and her fingernails are painted white and black. The image has a joyful, playful vibe with a strong sense of color coordination and cheerfulness.

Signs of AuDHD in Women and Girls: A Complete Guide

Many women and AFAB who are AuDHD (who have both autism and ADHD) go undiagnosed for years. That’s partly because their traits don’t always match the common stereotypes. The symptoms of AuDHD in women may be concealed by social conditioning, masking, and internalized expectations. Instead of being loud or disruptive, they might be daydreamy, overly helpful, or simply exhausted from trying to keep up. They often adapt, mask, or blend in until burnout, anxiety, or a sense of “something’s off” brings things to the surface. In this post, we’ll take a closer look at what AuDHD can look like in women and why it’s so often overlooked.