I don't find that attitude to be helpful at all in my case. Everything in the official adult world encouraged me to think there was nothing wrong with me. I h

I don't find that attitude to be helpful at all in my case. Everything in the official adult world encouraged me to think there was nothing wrong with me. I had the best grades, my teachers loved how good I was at following rules and completing assignments, I did well at sports, and my parents always told me I was great. I was still miserable. My parents did their best to get me to just see myself as "different," even better, but it never changed how frustrating it was that people just looked baffled or creeped out when I talked, and the other kids laughed, or they avoided me. By the time I was in second grade, I was already wondering what the hell was wrong with me, how to fix it, whether it was even possible to fix it. I was not very socially oriented, but I was painfully aware that when I tried to interact with other people, I did not do it like other people did, and I did not get the reactions that other people got. None of that came from a preconceived notion that different is bad. In fact, I grew up in a household with a counterculture ethic and a strong presumption that different is better. It didn't help. It just prevented my parents from figuring out that I had a real issue that needed addressing.