I have recently reached a new phase in my life. It is the phase where I look at the ledger, see where I have messed up, own it, and work to actively fix it.
That is who I am. I am a machine built for continuous self-improvement. Because, like many autistic people, I don’t know when I will be “finished.” So, I keep working.
As I have posted and commented before, I have been doing a lot of that work alone. You say “good,” but you may not understand the ordeal. And that is okay, really.
I have reached out. I have tried to keep connections alive. I have tried to base friendships on trust, loyalty, and shared values. But I have realized that for many people, friendship is based on utility—on what I do, not who I am. And now that I am no longer “useful” in that specific way, or now that I am “too much”—too detailed, too deep, too intense—the silence has become the answer.
I know how some people see me. You see the autism as a bother, or another excuse. You may think this is about getting attention. It is quite the opposite.
Maybe you see the analysis as stifling. You see the “stick in the mud.” You mistake my intensity for intimidation, when it is actually just a desperate desire to get it right. You forget the core of who I am.
So, I am making a correction.
But do you know what I haven’t gotten from most? Feedback. It feels like we are a society so worried about being polite while being complete asses to each other, all behind smiles. It is a complete lack of integrity that is failing us individually, socially, and nationally. I see the values many hold these days, and I won’t be a part of it anymore.
Today, I set my social media accounts to delete. There was no announcement. I don’t need the performative goodbye. I simply removed the digital tether to people who have already let go of the rope.
I reached out to old friends. I got no response. I sent a message wishing them well, and I meant it. That is the standard I hold myself to: grace in the face of silence.
I am not doing this out of vengeance. I am not doing this out of anger. I am doing this out of self-respect. Sometimes, you have to let people feel your absence. Not to punish them, but because you finally value your own presence enough not to waste it on an empty room.
Friendships dwindle. That is the natural law. But I am done supporting those who do not return the favor. People are busy. I get it. But from this moment forward… so am I.
To the few who have stuck by me—you know who you are—I tip my hat to you. You are the ones who saw the person behind the “intensity,” and I value you more than I can say.
For everyone else… there is no anger here. There is already forgiveness. But the door is closed.
I am moving forward. And I am traveling light.