There is hardly a facet of my existence that is not coloured in some substantial way by autism or its many concurrent manifestations. The result is a differentness that, while often subtle, people still cannot help but notice. Most times, in brief encounters, one thing or another is sufficiently noteworthy to a passerby such as to elicit comment, usually in a friendly manner - the most common is "Aren't you cold?". While I can usually hide most of the more obvious charactertics for the duration of, say, a business meeting, any recurring contact inevitably - and usually quickly - results in people noticing the I am obviously and substantially different from anyone else they have met. It is not all bad - people also notice my unusual abilities as well as the difficulties. Those rare people that stick around to really get to know me treat me far differently from how they treat others, in an accepting and accommodating way. These exceptional people have an unbelievable effect on the quality of my life, which would almost certainly be an much more unfulfilling existence otherwise, if not a former existence.
Yet while people immediately sense my "differentness", they do not (at least to my knowledge) recognise it as autism. As I in general do not tell people unless it is important that they know (such as business partners or serious dating partners, if ever that were to occur), I am defined to most people as being different, not as being autistic.
To myself, however, it completely defines me, day after sleepless night, forming the framework for understanding the series of assorted struggles big and small that is daily life. I would be fooling myself to think that I am just a person who incidentally has autism. All of my experiences, past and present, for decades embarrassing, hurtful and unexplained, are now viewed with the understanding of why I was as I was and did as I did. I now own these once-painful memories, and they can no longer hurt me.