A metro Detroit teen who was diagnosed with autism at the age of two is inspiring others with her incredible wisdom.
Abigail Desselles, who goes by "Abi", originally wrote the essay for her high school paper when she was a student at Plymouth High School. You can scroll down to read her entire essay. She was also featured as a guest columnist on HometownLife.com recently. Abi chose the topic to raise awareness and to highlight issues with bullying that deeply affected her growing up.
"The topic is near and dear to my heart, due to growing up with so many expectations from my home life and society," Abigail said. "Learning to adapt in a world I can hardly understand has been a struggle, and showing what I've been through I think really shows that people need to be mindful of their actions. Take time to understand one another and our differences, and be free to really express ourselves as individuals without shame."
Abi's mother, Theresa Desselles, is so proud of the young lady Abi has become and knows she has a bright future.
"Abi was diagnosed with Autism at age 2. She was much more severe then," Abi's mother says. "We made dietary changes and she blossomed. Abi has excelled in life through hard work and determination. She is very gifted in writing and expression. My dream is to have Abi be a journalist. I truly believe she can change the world!"
Abi says she wanted her essay to encourage others to reach out and love one another.
"A simple compliment or kind deed can show someone that they are wanted or needed. Reach out to those around you. Because you may be the only person who has that day, week, or month," says Abi.
She is hoping by sharing her story, others will be inspired to show compassion and kindness to everyone around them.
"With so much bullying in the world, even from adults as a social norm, I felt my story was needed. We need to appreciate others for being individuals, and stop treating others as though they are below us. I want to inspire kindness from strangers."
READ ABI'S FULL ESSAY BELOW:
April is rolling in and, while many may associate the month with showers and warmer weather, it is also Autism Awareness Month. “What is autism?” some may ask. Google defines it as “a mental condition, present from early childhood, characterized by difficulty in communication and forming relationships with other people and in using language and abstract concepts.”
An early age, I was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, a milder form of autism. Life for students with special needs can be hell while you're growing up. There's always a sense of isolation from other people; you're always told that you're “different.” Words people use to describe those like me can range from “retard” to “special,” but they all mean the same thing: you don't belong and you're different.
While adults have good intentions for children with this diagnosis, they have a hard time putting themselves in our shoes.
I'm considered high functioning on the autism spectrum. This means I can communicate effectively and I have an average or above-average cognitive ability.
However, people like me tend to have trouble reading social cues and knowing what's appropriate and what's not. Because I'm high functioning, I was placed in regular classes in school, the equivalent of throwing me in a lion's den, with teachers and para-professionals my only armor from direct encounters.
Kids with special needs get some of the worst treatment from their peers. It's a struggle to communicate and realize what's acceptable and what's not. Kids with autism are seen as a joke.
It can feel like the entire world hates you for just existing — like you're always being pitied, treated like you're stupid or both. I was raised to keep my condition a secret because it carries a stigma, it's considered wrong and weird.
I've had people take advantage of my condition and judge me differently once they found out. I remember in middle school how we would have these things called “Snack Pack,” and invite kids who weren't in special-needs program to hang out with us. Most of the time, these kids were just using it to get free food. Later, we would see some of the same kids making fun of us in the hallways with their friends, usually by imitating or mocking us. It hurt a lot, but worse yet, it was widely accepted to mistreat people like me. I hear people use special or retarded as an insult in the hallways all the time. Using someone's race as an insult is short-sighted and no longer tolerated, so why is it OK to use mental disabilities in the same way?
You can imagine that many kids, including myself, grew bitter from this treatment. I got used to hurtful comments and to different treatment, be it good or bad. I thought I was immune to the things people said, to the things people did, but I really wasn't. I was just detaching from it, which is very different from being immune.
I was talking to a teacher at my school one day. When I briefly told him that I was bullied and why, he only had one question for me: “Was there something wrong with them or something wrong with you?”
I remember internally smiling, the answer was so obvious. I looked up at him and replied, “There is something wrong with me.”
Until then he was not nonchalantly listening, but he quickly turned to face me. “Wrong? There is nothing wrong with you.”
I was confused when he said this; what did he mean by that? I'd always believed that I was the one who couldn't communicate right or learn things like everyone else. For a brief moment, all my flaws crashed into a chaotic mess, a circus of negativity within my own thoughts. I realized just then what his question really meant. I had given everyone who hurt me permission to because I believed I was born wrong. But really, it was the people who hurt me who are truly wrong in the end. I was just me and there would never be anything wrong with me for being who I am. The people who had hurt me in some way were the ones who were wrong. They were the ones who thought they had the right to deem others as being abnormal or broken.
When I tell everyone the story, it is not for pity. I've had enough of that. It's to get people to wake up and realize the pain they are causing others. My story gets a happy ending here, but I know many others out there are still hurt and bitter. I want a world where people don't hate themselves for existing or feel afraid of things they can't control. I want the world changed to be a place where people can be accepted for who they are, not judged by it.
