vos.

i’ve spent much of my life fading away, whether it was quietly leaving rooms, letting texts go unanswered, or watching connections dissolve before they began. this piece reflects on that pattern of disappearing, the weight it carries, and the small anchors that keep me tethered, like the presence of my cats.

autism doesn’t always look the way people expect. for me, it shows up in routines, challenges, and the little comforts I hold onto. i’ve learned how much being on the spectrum shapes everyday life, and how it’s made me who I am.

“my version of lonely” explores my personal encounters with missed connections, changing friendships, and the quiet ways we cope when we’re not sure we truly belong.

a quiet reflection on the pressure to hold it all together. it’s about the cycle of expectations, exhaustion from emotional burnout, and the possibility that things don’t always have to stay this way.