Natalie Forrest
Bio
Writer of many different things. Dog and cat lover. Cheese-a-Holic. Neurodiverse and proud. Possesser of more books than I can ever read. Introvert with a salty vocabulary. Very proud aunt. Under 5’3”.
Stories (7/0)
I Discovered I’m Demisexual and I Don’t Know What to Do About It
I haven’t had much of a romantic life and I’ve just turned 50. To my family and my best friend,this is rarely if ever mentioned. To be fair, to my family and my best friend, it’s never been an area of any concern. To them, I suppose, it’s just always been “Natalie just doesn’t do that kind of thing… just the way she is.” For my father, I think it was a relief. He was very protective and a bit on the old fashioned side.
By Natalie Forrest2 years ago in Humans
The Fleeting High of Retail Therapy
I have a confession. I am an irresponsible over spender. It’s not a rare condition. I have a friend who cannot stop buying clothes despite, the fact that she has to make her basement her closet so they all fit. Her favorite outing when we get together is coffee first and then shopping. I love her dearly but she’s a bad influence on me.
By Natalie Forrest2 years ago in Confessions
Some of My “Inappropriate Accidents While Living”
I was aware there was a likely reason for doing and saying so many of the things I did and said relatively early on. My parents told me I was an early talker. I now know that what my 6th grade teacher called my inappropriateness was a characteristic many of us on the Autism spectrum are blessed/cursed with. In almost every instance, I was blissfully unaware that I had said or done something “wrong.” (If you can practically feel me using air quotes, it’s because I still don’t understand why most of the things I said or did were considered wrong.) I also don’t believe that these that these inappropriate accidents while living are characteristic only to those of us with autism. I’ve encountered many neurotypical people who say and do pretty much the same kind of things that I’ve said and done, but with none of the shaming of inappropriateness. (This discrepancy has been explained to me as those people just “being honest” or “telling it like it is,” to which I always find myself asking “why isn’t that what I’m doing?”) I guess the question of appropriateness depends on which kind of person says or does the thing. I know which kind of person I am. If you’re sitting there, reading this and asking yourself which kind you are, then I’m sorry but you’re a Natalie…you’re a me…you’re an us…you’re not just being honest or telling it like it is…congratulations…you’re inappropriate.
By Natalie Forrest2 years ago in Psyche
Depression = Autism
It has been nearly two years since I found out that I was Autistic. In that time, I’ve gone through many emotions: disbelief, anger, avoidance, contemplation, remembrance and finally, acceptance. I’ve listened to what other people have thought about my disorder. I’ve buried my head in the sand for almost a year trying to convince myself that I was not, in fact, autistic. I’ve mentally gone back over the parts of my life that I can remember, from childhood up until now. I’ve accepted what I was never going to be able to change. I’ve developed a new level of comfort with myself. And I’ve read and read and read…as much as I could about autism and more specifically, being on the spectrum.
By Natalie Forrest2 years ago in Psyche
I Have 950 Books to Read and I May Be Going Blind
I have always had a lot of books. I still have the books that my mother read to me, starting when I was a newborn just home from the hospital, lovingly stored in a large keepsake chest in my attic eaves. Whenever I was asked what I wanted for a birthday present or at Christmas time, even in my Easter basket, it was always books. I still have my childhood copies of Charlotte’s Web, The Trumpet of the Swan and Stuart Little, sold as a set at our local grocery store in the 1970’s, on my current bookshelves. I can’t remember a time when books (second only to dogs) weren’t the center of my universe. They were my primary form of entertainment, my source of all knowledge, my only friends. This hasn’t changed very much.
By Natalie Forrest2 years ago in Longevity
My Hardest Walk
There’s this song, “The Hardest Walk,” by the Jesus and Mary Chain. It’s from the 1980’s movie Some Kind of Wonderful, a movie that high school me related to enough to watch it over 60 times. The song itself is a very good one. I never used to skip listening to it when it was on. I even had it ready to go when I would ask “Alexa, play…” But now? I can’t listen to it anymore now though.
By Natalie Forrest3 years ago in Families
Middle Aged and Autistic
When I was nine years old, I came home from school crying because one of my classmates called me a weirdo. It wasn’t the first time this had happened and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. I cannot even remember what I had done that time. It was “something strange” in a long line of other “strange things” that Natalie did.
By Natalie Forrest3 years ago in Psyche
