>I say: Speaking is hard for me. Writing is easier.
I write: When I speak, it’s kind of like walking around in a dark room with a flashlight. I have limited ability to see any obstacles in my way, but I get tripped up a lot and run into things that cause problems. When I write, though, it’s as if someone has turned the overhead lights on, and I can clearly see the layout of the room and any potential issues.
I say: Boil it. On the stove. Not for 3 minutes, more than that.
I write: I don’t know how to hard boil an egg, but I know how to soft boil one and I assume the process is similar. First, set the eggs in a pot of water. Turn the water on high and wait for it to boil. If you’re soft boiling, when the water boils, set the timer for 3 minutes. When the 3 minutes is up, turn the heat off and douse the eggs in cold water until they’re cool enough to touch. For hard boiled eggs, I assume you just boil them longer than 3 minutes; I just don’t know how long.
I say: I like cats.
I write: I love cats because they’re so calming and centering. The sound of their purrs and feel of their furr offer a sensory experience. They allow me to engage in a way that I can’t with people, in a way that doesn’t require words. Cats allow me to reregulating myself, every time I see one.
I say: Does it make sense?
I write: Do you better understand now what it’s like to live with a communication disability? To have so much in your head and just not be able to get it out? To be so overwhelmed by the sensory world that you can’t get past it to compose your words in speech? To have people treat you like you’re unintelligent, because you don’t speak like a very intelligent person? Will you keep this in mind then next time you’re talking to someone with autism?