Beth shrugged. ‘I like that I can be more intentional about what I say. I’ve always expressed myself better in writing than when I speak aloud.’
Hana nodded slowly, appearing to ponder Beth’s answer for a moment, then reached for the gift bag at their feet. ‘For you,’ they said, handing it to Beth.
Giving Hana a curious look, Beth peeked inside and—
She glanced quickly at Hana to check that she wasn’t imagining things. Hana, clearly pleased with her reaction, grinned back at her.
‘I don’t understand,’ Beth said, her eyes filling with tears as she pulled out the crocheted sunflower blanket. It was folded and tied with a yellow ribbon, but it was clearly the project Flo had been working on. ‘I thought she didn’t get to finish it.’
‘She didn’t. Olive brought it to me. Said Flo had left her instructions to ask me to finish it, then once I was done, I should give it to you as a gift from Flo.’ Hana’s brow furrowed. ‘I thought that was odd. Didn’t she mention she was making it for her niece?’
Beth laughed through her tears. ‘She did. Flo and I kind of adopted each other.’
‘Ah, that makes sense, actually,’ Hana said with a smile. ‘She definitely had a soft spot for you.’
Beth unravelled the ribbon, shook out the blanket and draped it over both their laps. ‘Thank you for finishing it, Hana,’ she said, studying each square. ‘You did a great job. I didn’t even know you could crochet.’
‘Oh, I enjoy all forms of artistic expression and pick up most quite easily. Being creative is my happy place, my special interest. I’m autistic, you see, so—’
Beth’s head shot up. ‘W-what did you just say?’
Hana traced the outline of a sunflower. ‘My brain works differently to most people’s. I think in colour and find patterns soothing, so the arts have always come naturally to me. The process of creation calms me. Helps me regulate my emotions.’
‘You … you’re autistic?’
Hana nodded calmly, not fazed in the least to admit their disability.
Beth’s mind whirled. She’d been bottling up her emotions and letting her fear consume her since the moment she first suspected she might be autistic, yet here was Hana, celebrating their differences with …pride.
Hana’s quiet confidence gave Beth courage.
‘I-I’ve been doing some reading, and … I thinkImight be autistic, too.’
Hana’s face lit up, their pleasure genuine. ‘You don’t say. Well, that explains why we understand each other so intuitively. Neurodivergent people do tend to gravitate towards one another.’
Something about Hana’s response made Beth think they weren’t surprised. That made sense, she guessed. If Hana was autistic, they must recognise autistic traits in others occasionally. Still, it was nice to know that Hana also felt their connection, and now that Beth had uttered her suspicions out loud, the burden she’d been carrying for weeks suddenly felt ten times lighter. Hana was someone who understood, who wouldn’t judge, and because of that, Beth feltsafe.
So instead of keeping everything bottled up, she tipped the container holding her emotions upside-down, whacked the base and let the words pour out of her.
She told Hana about Rosie and about Pru’s suspicions. She explained what she’d learned in her father’s letters and the TV program Celia had recommended, and how, when Beth had watched it, her curiosity had been sparked and prompted her to start researching. She admitted how her countless hours of research had culminated in a self-diagnosis.
‘I couldn’t believe it. Reading about autism and how it often presents in girls and women was like reading about myself and my own life. All the things I struggled with growing up, all the things Istillstruggle with … it’s been really confronting to learn that the reason for it all is because I’m autistic. I’m having trouble accepting it.’
Hana’s expression was half-pity, half-sympathy. ‘I’ll be honest, Beth, I can’t really relate. Learning I was autistic literally saved my life.’
‘Really? How so?’
‘Well, I was in an abusive relationship and after it ended, I became suicidal and wound up in hospital. Soon after, I was diagnosed with ASD, and the understanding it gave me about myself …’ Overcome, Hana swallowed, shook their head as if to clear it, then continued. ‘My self-confidence had been destroyed by someone who was supposed to care for me, but I learned that all the things I’d been conditioned to hate about myself were actually my autistic traits. Once I learned about the beautifully unique way my brain works, it opened the door to healing and put me on a path to self-love and acceptance. I’ll always be grateful for that. For knowing who I truly am.’
The beauty and raw honesty with which Hana spoke—of their diagnosis, of theirdisability—cut Beth to the core. Because hating herself was something she was all too familiar with. How many times had she wished to be braver, more confident, capable of conversing like a normal person? She tried to hold herself together, she really did, but she simply couldn’t fathom what it would be like to value her differences rather than abhor them, and the realisation of that sad truth opened the floodgates.
‘Hey.’ Hana knelt beside her and rubbed her back with firm, soothing strokes. ‘It’s okay, Beth. Let it out. Just let it all out.’
Beth did. She cried as if she were exorcising demons. And perhaps she was. Perhaps she was finally purging all the shame and self-loathing.
Eventually, once her tears had run dry and it was warm enough, they shed Flo’s blanket and spent the next few hours talking and laughing and bawling, comparing their own experiences—the good, the bad, and the quirky—of living in a world not designed for them. Hana helped her see that, yes, while she found some things challenging, she also had unique strengths as a result of her neurodivergence.
‘What do you value that the average person doesn’t?’
