Today I am taking a break from writing so someone else…a very important someone else, in my opinion…can take the reins and post to our blog. That someone? My son, Kyle.

Kyle shares with us, in his own words, what it was like to be autistic:

My earliest memories of being autistic were building forts out of giant blocks, spinning sticks that magically turned into airplane propellers, and hiding under blankets pretending that I was in a cave or surviving a blizzard. The reason why I did these things is because people said I was autistic and I was scared to talk to people. Spinning sticks was just me. I loved to do these things-- it was my way of expressing myself in my own language.

I didn’t trust people really. I was scared they would be not nice, so to protect myself, I would not socialize. I would psych myself out by not being sure how they’d react. I thought they wouldn’t understand what I was trying to say, wouldn’t understand what I meant.

With all the weird stuff I did, the response from other kids was not positive. I believed everyone would think I was weird because I would line things up and stack blocks, spin sticks, speak out stories playing in my head, pull pillows over my head and roll up in blankets like a cocoon, obsess about cool stuff, make sound effects, spin with dolls.

When I would visualize something interesting in my head, I would block out other things—I wanted to keep working it out in my head—cool stuff—and not pay attention to other people while I was doing that.

Even today, I am terrified to call people. I get really nervous about their reaction. I still like to line up and stack blocks to relax, and spin my pencil when I’m thinking, and work things out in my head for a long time.

Kyle Westphal