They told me I was cold. Too quiet. Too distant. Too calm. What they didn’t know—what I didn’t even know—is that I wasn’t calm. I wasn’t fine. I was caged. I was suffocating under layers of forced smiles, muted reactions, and silent screams. I wasn’t allowed to feel. If I cried? I was dramatic. If I got angry? I was dangerous. If I showed joy? I was “too much.” So I learned to shut it all down. I masked so hard that even I couldn’t tell what was real anymore. I thought maybe I didn’t have emotions like other people. I thought maybe something was broken inside me. But here’s the truth: I wasn’t emotionless. I was surviving. Now I know I’m autistic. Now I know I wasn’t “cold”—I was conditioned to suppress everything. And now that I’m unmasking? It’s like a dam breaking. I feel everything. In full color. Full volume. Full impact. There’s no such thing as “mild” in my emotional world. There’s no polite little wave of sadness. It’s a tsunami. There’s no casual happiness. It’s sunlight explo...