I don’t want autism erased. I want the parts that make life harder to be understood.

For a long time, I thought accepting autism meant accepting every struggle that came with it. Eventually, I realized those are two different things. I can accept who I am without pretending that every part of being autistic is easy. I don't want someone to “fix” me because I don't believe everything about me needs fixing. The way I think, notice details, develop deep interests, and experience the world is part of who I am. But there are things I wish were easier. I wish overwhelming noise didn't sometimes make it impossible to think. I wish communicating when I'm overloaded didn't become so difficult. I wish unexpected changes didn't sometimes leave me completely overwhelmed. Those difficulties are real. Pretending they aren't doesn't help autistic people. But neither does assuming that removing autism would automatically make someone’s life better. Autistic people can need significant support and still have a life filled with relationships, interests, goals, and meaning. Needing help doesn't make someone's life less valuable. That's also why I think the question “Would you want a cure for autism?” is more complicated than it sounds. One autistic person might want relief from severe sensory overload, self-injury, communication difficulties, or other disabling challenges without wanting their identity erased. Another autistic person might genuinely wish they weren't autistic because their experiences have brought them enormous suffering. I don't think we need to choose one opinion for everyone. Accepting autism doesn't mean romanticizing disability. Wanting better treatments doesn't mean rejecting autistic people. Maybe the better question isn't, “How do we cure autism?”