A neurodivergent childhood in hindsight
You know that moment when you’re telling a funny childhood story and someone goes,
“Wait… that’s not a thing everyone did.”
And you just sit there like: 😐
Cool cool cool. So I wasn’t quirky, I was autistic.
Welcome to the rollercoaster of realising your childhood wasn’t “just a bit weird” — it was a collection of stims, special interests, shutdowns, and silent rules no one told you existed.
Here’s a non-exhaustive list of things I genuinely thought were universal experiences until, well… much too recently.
🧷 Lining things up for no reason
Books, DVDs, glitter gel pens, the crumbs on my plate — if it could be categorised, colour-coded, or arranged by height, it was. Bonus points if I got to do it again.
😵 Crying when plans changed
Even if the new plan was technically better. “We’re not going to Pizza Hut, we’re going to Disney World!”
Okay but… that’s not what we said earlier?? Cue meltdown in the middle of joy.
💀 Absolute terror of… random things
Pop hazards (aka balloons), the Budweiser frogs, loud hand dryers, and the intro to Newsround? That wasn’t just being “a bit sensitive.” That was full-body fear. Fight, flight, or run into my mum’s coat.
📣 Narrating everything like a TV show
“Now she’s going into the kitchen. She reaches for the biscuits. Will she choose custard creams or Bourbons? Let’s find out!”
And yes, I did this out loud. For years. Sorry to everyone who thought I was just pretending to be David Attenborough.
🪑 Sitting in the exact same chair every time
And if someone else sat there? I simply ceased to function. There is no backup chair. There is only The Chair™.
🧠 Memorising entire TV adverts
Not on purpose — just… absorbed them like a sponge. I could still recite the Moonpig dot com jingle mid-shutdown.
🔊 Not realising the volume of my voice
I was either a library whisper or accidentally doing a full-on theatrical monologue. No in-between.
🫣 Avoiding eye contact like it was lava
And when I was forced to do it, I would count to five in my head like I was holding my breath underwater.
💬 Repeating phrases or words that felt nice in my mouth
Sometimes random. Sometimes JLS lyrics. Sometimes “boing.” It was all fair game.
Oh, and if you told me to stop? I just did it quieter.
🧼 That one weird sensory routine
Peeling glue off my hands. Wearing the same soft hoodie every day. Chewing the sleeves.
Was I being “quirky”? No. I was just trying to exist.
🌀 Spinning in circles. For fun. For ages.
In the living room, on the playground, in the kitchen while someone was trying to cook. Just spinning like a malfunctioning fidget spinner with no shame.
Apparently that’s not what most kids did for half an hour at a time?? Okay then.
🗯️ “You didn’t just spin. You committed to the spin. That was interpretive dance, babe.” – Daisy
Final Thoughts (and a word from Daisy)
So yeah… turns out a lot of “funny little quirks” were actually sensory tools, coping mechanisms, or autistic traits I couldn’t name at the time. And I don’t feel embarrassed about them anymore. I feel seen.
And Daisy? Well…
🗯️ “You peeled glue off your hands. I peeled it off other people’s. One of us was normal. And it wasn’t you.”
– Daisy Carter, Resident Chaos Consultant
Asten Does Nostalgia 
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