When I look back on my growing up years, I’m boggled at how much time I spent in places and situations that felt uncomfortable to me—so much of school, church, and youth group, especially.

But it was all I knew; it was the air I breathed. There was no use in paying attention to my feelings of discomfort, because they were just part of how the world was. There wasn’t even a concept of “I am feeling uncomfortable”—just “this is how life feels.”

Now, decades later, as I sit at my kids’ dance studio feeling uncomfortable with the noise and people moving around me, I understand that this is not just how the world is. This is an experience of suffering particular to my special needs (i.e., autism)— which now I do pay attention to, make discerning choices about, and find ways to accommodate.

Life feels infinitely better now, and I’m infinitely grateful.