The Inner Circle

As you know, I am still reeling from my Great Aunt’s death…but it has left me with a strange, sinking feeling that I will never be the same. We now have no reason to go to Harrodsburg, since the family gives us very little information and treats us like strangers. I would love to be a part of this special inner circle they have, but there is no effort or desire to bring me in. How do I get myself in with these people-damn my mother’s name? That seems to be the only way I can get in with these people-especially since my uncle Allen and my mother have a strained relationship. He seems to rule their opinion of my mother, and therefore, of me. I wonder what strange thing happened between them that they got so bad about? It almost seems that they want to exclude us from the family on purpose. Hopefully, we can get those things resolved before they die, too. There is so much they keep from us, that we are just strangers, just outsiders.

I have always been an outsider looking in whenever I was in a group. My youth group at church, my Girl Scout troop, and even my theater friends in high school-so much, in fact, that I always keep wondering if there is some magic to being neurotypical, to being able to infiltrate these great and wonderful cliques. It must be so magical to be in the inner circle….

Have I ever been on the inside, even in my own family? It pains me to say no. My mother and I are all we got when it comes to friendship and reliability. How I wish I could enter the inner circle-somewhere.


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Autistic woman in her 40s, bringing attention to issues that affect her and her kind.

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