There comes a time when you stop asking for acceptance and start embodying truth. Not to prove anything, but because to abandon who you are for the comfort of others is a betrayal your soul can no longer afford.
I am an autistic woman. I am almost 55. I carry the light of God within me. And I shake environments not by effort—but by presence.
The Earthquaker Within Me
I used to wonder why narcissistic individuals were drawn to me like moths to flame—why their subtle attacks, sabotage, and stonewalling seemed to follow me from job to job, from church to community space. But now I understand:
I’m not a threat because I fight them.
I’m a threat because I don’t need their approval to know who I am.
The Spirit of God within me agitates what’s hidden. And yes, that rattles people—especially those committed to darkness while wearing the mask of decency. They seek me out, mimic me, try to triangulate others against me. But their tactics no longer define me. They can’t touch what’s rooted in truth.
Navigating the Current Storm
I work in a small environment clinging to age-old norms. My questions are seen as threats. My calm is mistaken for weakness. My neurological differences are weaponized against me by people who claim to be neurodivergent themselves. But their alignment is with conformity, not authenticity.
They treat me like a child because they claim I appear and speak younger than my age, dismiss my credentials, and twist my intentions. They claim to believe in me while undermining every word I speak. They try to watch me break. They stare at me, looking for cracks. What they find is peace. An unshakable calm. Sometimes even a smile.
And when I speak—rarely, intentionally, directly—it takes the air out of their games. Not because I attack them, but because I speak what they’ve spent years burying.
What Has Changed
I no longer beg to belong.
I no longer react.
I reflect. I observe. I see.
- I see the fake alliances.
- I see the ones who talk about others to feel accepted.
- I see the spirits behind the behaviors.
And more importantly, I see me—clearly now.
I used to grieve the loss of what I thought this space could be. I wanted belonging. I wanted peace. But now I know: I am the peace. And sometimes, peace comes as a shaking.
Standing in My Assignment
This new job I currently have, like many spaces before it, was never meant to be permanent. It was meant to be a proving ground. A mirror. A mission.
I am:
- A discerner.
- A truth-speaker.
- A soul who can’t be gaslit anymore.
I know what’s real, and what’s cloaked in projection. I don’t need to fight. I don’t need to shrink. I just need to be. Fully. Fearlessly. Faithfully.
The Isolation Is Sacred Now
I used to dread being misunderstood, rejected, or excluded. Now I see it as protection. Forced isolation became holy ground. I meet God there. I meet myself there.
And from that place, I offer something this environment deeply lacks: integrity.
Someone in the community once told me they’d only deal with me. “You have good energy,” they said. That is the fruit of authenticity. That is the ripple effect of walking in light.
Final Reflections
I don’t pretend this path is easy. The tears still come. But I no longer question why I walk it.
If God is for me, who can be against me?
Not because I expect the path to be smooth—but because I trust the assignment.
I was made for this.
And I am not alone. Not anymore.
Psalm 18:33 – “He makes my feet like the feet of a deer; he causes me to stand on the heights.”
Reflect & Root
Reflective Question:
When the winds of misunderstanding blow in your life, what helps you stay rooted in who you truly are—beyond the noise, beyond the judgment, beyond the fear?
My Voice Unchained 