When I was a toddler, everyone knew that I was a little bit different. I was reading at the age of two, and I could write out my entire name before I started school. Everyone thought I was smart, not that I had a mental health disorder.

Everything had its place, and it had to be in a specific order. I thought in colours, textures and objects. I couldn't stand a lot of sounds and feelings. I didn't know what was wrong with me, but even from that young age, I knew that there was something different about me.

I stood out in a crowd. Especially in a crowd. I had, and still have, a fear of being touched, not the germs or anything, but the physical contact, and that made taking me out anywhere really hard.

I would have meltdowns over seemingly nothing. And it was over nothing, it was actually a sensory overload.

This continued until I was eleven, when I finally got a name for what was happening. I have Asperger's Syndrome, which is virtually high-functioning autism. I had a reason to hate being touched, to hate loud noises.

It also explained my inability to express myself properly, which I still struggle with to this day. I had a reason for being different, but at the same time, it was a label.

It caused me to be picked on by masses at school. I was called autistic—which I am, but it still hurt. I was picked on for the fact that I couldn't run as fast as other kids—Asperger's comes with motor skill issues. I was teased about the fact that I don't understand sarcasm—I still don't, but it's who I am.

I still remember the first time I figured out that I wasn't alone. My dad and I were at Sick Kids for my check-up, and we were in the gift shop. I was looking through the books, and the title of one caught my eye. Look me in the Eye. I saw that it was written by a man with Asperger's, so I picked it up and showed it to my dad. He let me get it.

That book was the start of something. I was no longer shy about saying that yes, I have Asperger's. I met a few other people with it through school, and we all understood each other. We knew why we couldn't look people in the eye, why we hated being touched. We had a reason.

I have Asperger's, but I am not Asperger's.

#NotAshamed

Afterall, the unique you is the best you.