Can I say, can I say, I am autistic. I am not ready yet to be a normal girl. I need to still be treated with care. You, Mom, are expecting me to be like a regular teenager. I am autistic. I see different. I hear different. I make me noises, and I look at the world different. I will always be different. I am not going to be able to change. Could you accept that?
Mom: Can you accept this? Because I have already.
Zayde says I am perfect so I believe him. I want to accept me autism as a part of me, not all of me.
Mom: I am very, very happy for you, Emma. It takes wise people to understand that.
I am trying not to be mad at you because I am mad at me. I love you and need you too much.
Mom: Emma, I love you more.