Let's Start Oversharing

She is the sweetest. Rosie. It's been 7 years of puppy love. The whole family is crazy about her still (everyone but my husband. But that is for another post). I found her at a rescue. She was going to be for the children but she rescued me. She wiggled and wagged her way into my heart. She truly has become my emotional support dog. She never leaves my side, barks at 'scary intruders' and is always ready for a snuggle.

As I learn more every day what it means to be a woman on the spectrum, I realize how much I needed her. Unaware of how I feel most of the time, she is the canvas, the mirror for my insides. I must have felt at peace when taking this picture of Rosie. 

She helps my children observe emotions. Dogs are so expressive without language. Happy wag of the tail, upset when her hair stands up, wanting to connect when she brings a toy.

People rarely offer the opportunity to see what they really feel. We are left to guess. As a woman on the spectrum, I work very hard to figure out what is going on. While my empathy and my sensory receptors are on high at all times, I second guess myself on the daily. It's a riddle I can't solve. My pattern recognition skills combined with all the data I collected about a person and social situations still do not afford me the luxury of knowing. No certainty. Self-doubt: Always. This is exhausting. No wonder I avoid people. Even though I love people. Rosie I can love unconditionally because I know exactly where I stand. And that I am loved back.