I always knew I was different, but then again, isn't everybody? Throughout elementary school, I felt extremely comfortable with my social life. I had a consistent group of friends with which I could always call up for a playdate. We did weird things, but most little kids do. By the time I reached middle school, dynamics began to change. People who were once my closest friends evolved greatly over those years. While they were suddenly fascinated with boys, I found my solace in studying and participating in athletics. I was certainly goal-driven and put a heavy deal of pressure on myself to excel.

As high school came around, it was much of the same. My friends were a thing of the past, as they gossiped about their latest hookups and the parties that weekend. Of course, I made new friends, but I never felt a genuine connection with them like I had when I was little. I was too consumed with succeeding in athletic endeavors and acing every exam. My world became very black and white, and I found myself increasingly judgmental of those who were not like myself. This led to a seclusion that left me feeling hollow. Regardless, I just kept pushing these feelings of loneliness and inadequacy aside as I looked forward to college.

College brought many emotions to the surface. Three weeks into school at my prestigious public university, panic overtook me. Each morning would be accompanied by a sense of dread, and it took every ounce of my will to choke back tears throughout the day. This was everything I had worked so hard to earn, so I was crushed when I had to withdraw for my own health. My parents' disappointment was nothing compared to the heavy weight of failure I placed on myself. It was decided that my parents and I both wanted answers to my struggles. For a girl who seemingly had it all together, this collapse set off warning bells. After all-day testing that assessed my learning and social abilities, the results were somewhat stunning but also a relief. My inability to handle college or most social situations did not stem from me being stuck up or unable to leave the nest like I had feared. Instead, the report revealed that I was on the autism spectrum. At 19 years old, I was diagnosed with autism.

April is National Autism Awareness Month, and it is a cause that is very near and dear to my heart. This is a month of awareness, but also one of celebration of the many amazing people living and thriving with autism today. According to Autism Speaks, “Autism spectrum disorder (ASD) and autism are both general terms for a group of complex disorders of brain development. These disorders are characterized, in varying degrees, by difficulties in social interaction, verbal and nonverbal communication and repetitive behaviors.” It is important to recognize the wide spectrum of people with autism. While some with the diagnosis are nonverbal or cannot live alone, Autism Speaks cites 40 percent of those on the spectrum as having the same or higher intellectual skills than those not on the spectrum.

Asperger's Syndrome is one diagnosis on the spectrum in which this is true, and that was my diagnosis. Those with Asperger's Disorder usually have above-average intelligence but struggle with social interaction. According to the Autism Society, "Individuals with Asperger’s Disorder usually want to fit in and have interaction with others, but often they don’t know how to do it. They may be socially awkward, not understand conventional social rules or show a lack of empathy. They may have limited eye contact, seem disengaged in a conversation and not understand the use of gestures or sarcasm." This diagnosis helped me to understand why I struggled so much as I got older and social interaction became more complex.

My diagnosis was a blessing. Many people might be confused by this statement. Why would it ever be a blessing to find out there is something wrong with you? As someone who has struggled with finding and understanding myself for the past 10 or so years of my life, this diagnosis has opened up doors. Identifying my symptoms and difficulties has afforded me the opportunity to attack them head-on, just like an exam or athletic contest. I am a competitive person, so this comes naturally to me. There is an array of educational books out now about autism and coping methods. Many of them are written by people with autism. There is something comforting in finding your own peculiarities in someone else and realizing you are not alone. Furthermore, the tools they offered have helped me to grow in so many ways as I prepare to graduate from Hope College and enter the real world. As part of the one percent world population with autism, my one request is that we learn to love everyone and embrace our differences. I don't see autism as a setback. I see it as just another part of what makes me unique.