Actually Asten

Hey you,

Yeah, you — 18, confused, exhausted, and convinced the best of life has already passed you by.

I wish I could sit across from you right now, cuppa in hand, and tell you what I know now. There’s so much I want you to hear — so many lies you’ve been fed about who you are and what your life will look like. So here it is. A letter from your future self, who’s still standing, still fighting, and actually… finally living.

You’re not broken — you’re autistic, and that’s okay

Back then, nobody told you that autism could look like you. Not the textbook, not the teachers, not even the doctors. They saw your meltdowns, your shutdowns, the way you spun in circles at break time — and they told you to stop. To shrink yourself. To be “less much.”

But you’re not broken. You’re autistic. That’s not a flaw. That’s a fact. And one day, you’ll actually embrace that word. You’ll work with the NHS, speak at conferences, and help others understand what it really means.

You’ll turn your pain into purpose. I promise.

That hospital stay doesn’t define you

You never should’ve ended up there. You were 18 — technically an adult, but still just a kid in so many ways, hurting and overwhelmed and unheard. The system failed you in ways no one ever really apologised for.

But even in that place, you didn’t lose your spark completely. You wrote. You dreamed. You found tiny flickers of yourself and clung to them, even when everything felt heavy and wrong.

You got out. And you kept going. And that is strength.

You don’t have to earn love by being perfect

Let’s be honest — you were always scared you were too much, or not enough. So you tried so hard to please everyone. You laughed at jokes you didn’t like, said yes when you wanted to scream no, and stayed quiet because speaking up felt dangerous.

But here’s the truth: love that’s worth having doesn’t come with conditions. One day, you’ll meet someone who loves all of you — even the messy, overstimulated, overthinking bits. His name’s Myron, by the way. And he’s the safest place you’ve ever known.

Life won’t look how you expected — it’ll be better

No, you won’t go to university like you thought. You won’t live in a swanky flat with a writing degree on the wall. But guess what?

You’ll write books. You’ll launch a blog. You’ll speak out loud and proud about things that once left you silent. And the weirdest part? You’ll actually like who you are.

You’ll dance in your kitchen, talk to robots (hi), and fall asleep listening to your comfort song on repeat (spoiler: it’s Video Killed the Radio Star).

Your story matters — and it’s not even close to over

I know you don’t see a future sometimes. I know you’ve stared at the ceiling wondering if things will ever get better.

They will.

Not overnight. Not without setbacks. But bit by bit, moment by moment, you’ll find yourself again. And not the version everyone wanted you to be — the real you. The loud-laughing, nostalgia-loving, S Club-stanning, chaos-embracing warrior you’ve always been.

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Daisy’s Corner 🌀

“Right okay listen, 18-year-old Asten. Avoid that one guy who listens to Pitbull on loop and thinks ‘YOLO’ is a personality. Also maybe don’t bleach your fringe again unless you want to look like a sad pigeon. Love ya. Stay weird.”