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A few months ago, I wrote a paper for uni on how the same crime is punished differently by gender. Reading a recent news article about a young woman punished for using a weapon in self-defence reignited that fire. Innocence is spoken of as purity. But why do so many women’s[1] stories begin at the…
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The Lady of the Lake Speaks Her wisdom does not allow imperial-minded restriction,where fear destroys what it cannot control,and then calls the ruin protection. To speak of autism is not a story from the Book of Invasion.But a plea to the folk, to educate themselves, to loosen their grip on old beliefs that turn naming…
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Can she still navigate the waters? Or must she learn to trust her inner compass again? Now that she knows the truth, grief follows. Grief for the woman she thought she was. As she revisits old conversations and old silences, replaying social moments with new eyes, wondering what was misread and what was endured.…
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Honestly, at this point, I’m convinced the universe is writing my life like a cosmic sitcom. Picture this: I finally get diagnosed autistic at forty-five and immediately discover I’m now both the ancient mythical sage and a small, overstimulated goblin-child who needs grape juice, quiet, and maybe a nap. The duality is outrageous. One minute…
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Today, the words for my essay fail me, just when I need them the most, when my internal world is overflowing with feelings so intense, they steal my executive function, leaving me quiet, trembling, wordless. And maybe that’s why I’m thinking of you, and why your absence feels heavier today. I had big news this…
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(A Heroin(e)’s Journey in a Neurodivergent Body) Burnout did not ask for permission. It arrived like a storm that had been forecasting itself.Through years of quiet weather reports, the world refused to read. It was not a noble quest, or a choice or a calling I accepted with grace. It was my body saying: No…
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What if “disorder” was only the world’s narrow word for evolution? What is magic in a world bound by the laws of the ordinary mind?It is the colour hidden beneath the black-and-white veil, the secret song smothered by the fear of the unknown. They silence the flowering ones, for they mistake bloom for danger, and…
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Every age needs a monster to chase. In medieval times, it was witches who were marked and burned, as if fear could be turned to ash. In the twentieth century, it was communists, with lists and sweeps that promised safety and delivered suspicion. And now, in the twenty-first century, the sweep is for autism. Presidents…
Notes from a Time Traveller by Elke Stevens 