If you met me, it’s unlikely you would know I had autism. As is common with autistic women, I have become good at mimicking social skills, although you may find me slightly eccentric and outspoken. I have no filter and can talk about the time that I struggled to breathe while an ex-girlfriend sat on my face as comfortably as I can talk about what I had for breakfast.
I also get extremely upset and stressed in group situations. I like everything in even numbers and I am hypersensitive to noise, smell, bright lights and textures.
I first experienced sexual attraction to a female school friend when I was 11, first had a sexual encounter with a woman when I was 20 and started exclusively dating women at the age of 25. I am 30 now and still find the lesbian scene excruciating. The deafening noise, sticky tables and revolting toilets are a form of sensory torture. That is without getting into the difficulties of trying to navigate my way into cliquey friendship groups. Too often I have been met with dirty looks or annoyed remarks such as: “Yes, you’ve already said that,” before retreating home alone with a McDonald’s. I would prefer to meet a partner at work or a social event, but it has been difficult to find fellow lesbian and bisexual women.
I haven’t had sex for two years; I would rather meet my own needs with vibrators. But I would like to meet a partner one day. For now, I am happily single, waiting until a special woman who loves me exactly as I am comes along.
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