The Journey to Find Me

For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt lost—like I was drifting through life without a true sense of who I am. I wore a mask every day, molding myself to fit society’s narrow picture of what a “normal” person should be. I hid the parts of me that felt different—the way I stimmed, my social awkwardness—by watching others and learning how to blend into the crowd. Standing out felt dangerous, so I did everything I could to disappear in plain sight.

Growing up, I didn’t understand why I acted the way I did. I just knew I was “weird” and “different,” and those words stung deeply. Bullies called me the R-word—something I hate to even think about—trying to strip me of my dignity and identity. I internalized those insults for years, believing I was broken or less than.

Then, in April of this year, something shifted. I was diagnosed with autism.

That diagnosis didn’t change who I am—it didn’t magically fix all my struggles or erase years of pain. But it gave me something priceless: a name for my experience, and a sense of belonging. It let me know I’m not alone, that my way of being is valid, even if it doesn’t fit society’s mold.

Since then, my journey has taken a sharp turn. It’s August now, and I’m navigating new medications—sertraline, hydroxyzine, and topiramate—that help manage my mental health and symptoms. But more than the meds, I’m learning something harder: how to stim openly and freely.

At first, I thought stimming was just little things—subtle habits I didn’t notice, like chewing my tongue, biting my lips and cheeks, picking at my fingernails, pulling my hair, rocking, pacing, hitting my hips with my fists, or rocking my legs when I’m in bed. Classic stims, but ones I kept hidden, even from myself. Now, I’m realizing there’s probably more I do that I haven’t fully noticed yet.

Opening up to stimming means accepting all those parts of myself that I once tried so hard to suppress. It’s about reclaiming my space in the world without shame or apology.

This is more than a journey; it’s a revolution within me. Every day I take a step closer to finding Caleb—true, unmasked, unapologetically me.

If you’ve ever felt lost or like you don’t quite fit, I want you to know you’re not alone. Sometimes the hardest journey is the one inward, but it’s also the most powerful.

This blog is my way of sharing that journey with you—raw, real, and hopeful. Because finding yourself isn’t just about a diagnosis or a label; it’s about embracing every piece of who you are, even the parts that feel messy or misunderstood.

Here’s to the journey—to the finding, the losing, the becoming. And most importantly, to being exactly who we are meant to be.