The Unadulting Society
A human-moderated, SFW safe haven for neurodivergent adults, trauma survivors, and regressive/somatic healers. Zero tolerance for bad actors.
Forum » What would you tell your younger self if you could?
What would you tell your younger self if you could?
I've been reading through this forum for weeks now, and I keep thinking about my younger self — the little girl who was told she was "too sensitive," who didn't understand why the other children seemed to know rules she'd never been taught, who learned to be quiet and agreeable because it was safer.
If I could sit down with her, I'd say: "You're not broken. You're not too much. You're not too sensitive. The world is too loud, too bright, too demanding — and you've been doing your best with tools nobody gave you. I'm proud of you. And it gets softer. Not easier, exactly. But softer. You'll find your people. You'll find your sea turtles. You'll find your ocean."
What would you tell YOUR younger self? The child who didn't know what you know now?
Replies (23)
"you're going to get a word for this someday. and that word is going to unlock EVERYTHING. all the things you think are moral failures — the messiness, the lateness, the overwhelm — they're symptoms. they're not you. you're not lazy. you're autistic, and you're doing your best, and it's enough."
"it's okay to like the things you like. pokemon isn't 'for boys.' stuffed animals aren't 'for babies.' your joy is not a phase you need to outgrow. you never have to outgrow joy."
"the noises that bother you are REAL. the lights that hurt are REAL. you're not making it up. and one day you'll have earplugs and sunglasses and you'll be able to go into grocery stores without crying. i promise."
I'd tell my younger self: "You're not failing at being a person. You're succeeding at being an autistic person in a world that wasn't designed for you. The fact that you're still here, still trying, still finding things to love — that's not failure. That's extraordinary."
"keep the teddy bear. don't let them shame you into giving it away. you'll still have him at 35 and he'll still be your best friend and you'll be glad you kept him."
Lydia, this is so beautiful. 😭
I'd tell my younger self: "You're not lazy. You're not dramatic. You're not 'too much.' You're autistic, and nobody knows it yet, and that's not your fault. One day you'll have words for everything you're feeling. One day you'll find people who speak the same language. Keep going."
"you're not broken. you're a raccoon being judged by bird standards. one day you'll find other raccoons and you'll stop trying to fly."
"The way you love things — deeply, completely, with your whole heart — is not a flaw. It's your superpower. Don't let anyone convince you to love things less."
"one day you'll have a bed full of stuffed animals and a partner who says goodnight to them and nobody will tell you to grow up. hold on."
"You're going to find people who love you not in spite of your softness, but BECAUSE of it. The things you're ashamed of right now are the things they'll treasure most about you. Keep being soft. The world needs soft people."
"you're not weird. you're just you. and 'you' is enough."
Reading all of these, I'm crying. Not from sadness — from recognition. Every single message in this thread is something I needed to hear at 7, at 15, at 30, and yes, at 67. We're all telling our younger selves what we still need to hear. Maybe we should start telling each other, too. 💛
Lydia, this is so beautiful. 😭
I'd tell my younger self: "You're not lazy. You're not dramatic. You're not 'too much.' You're autistic, and nobody knows it yet, and that's not your fault. One day you'll have words for everything you're feeling. One day you'll find people who speak the same language. Keep going."
"the noises that bother you are REAL. the lights that hurt are REAL. you're not making it up. and one day you'll have earplugs and sunglasses and you'll be able to go into grocery stores without crying. i promise."
@lil_pawz "A raccoon being judged by bird standards" is the most perfect metaphor I've ever encountered. I'm framing this.
I'd tell my younger self: "You're not failing at being a person. You're succeeding at being an autistic person in a world that wasn't designed for you. The fact that you're still here, still trying, still finding things to love — that's not failure. That's extraordinary."
"you're going to get a word for this someday. and that word is going to unlock EVERYTHING. all the things you think are moral failures — the messiness, the lateness, the overwhelm — they're symptoms. they're not you. you're not lazy. you're autistic, and you're doing your best, and it's enough."
"keep the teddy bear. don't let them shame you into giving it away. you'll still have him at 35 and he'll still be your best friend and you'll be glad you kept him."
"The way you love things — deeply, completely, with your whole heart — is not a flaw. It's your superpower. Don't let anyone convince you to love things less."
"one day you'll have a bed full of stuffed animals and a partner who says goodnight to them and nobody will tell you to grow up. hold on."
"you're not weird. you're just you. and 'you' is enough."
"keep the glitter. keep the color. keep everything that makes you happy. the people who tell you to tone it down are just afraid of how brightly you shine."
"You're going to find people who love you not in spite of your softness, but BECAUSE of it. The things you're ashamed of right now are the things they'll treasure most about you. Keep being soft. The world needs soft people."
Log in to reply.
« Back to forum