27/10/2025
The Ones Who Show Up
When I first started thinking about running again, I almost didn’t.
I had made peace with stepping back, with letting the noise fade and focusing on the quiet work that still matters. I told myself I’d done enough. But then, the messages started coming. Parents, advocates, people with disabilities. People who knew what it felt like to fight systems that are supposed to help you but end up breaking you instead.
They reminded me why I ever ran in the first place, not for power or politics, but because someone has to speak the truth about what’s happening to us. The dismantling of supports, the constant undermining of families, the way people with disabilities are used for optics but left behind when it counts.
So I stepped forward, not because I thought it would be easy, but because I couldn’t stand by and watch it continue.
I’ve seen how people use us. During my last campaign, there was a group that pulled me in early because I had a voice for people with disabilities. But once I discovered that I wasn’t just speaking for that group, that I was actually part of it — that I was autistic myself — things started to change. I’ve seen that same shift with others too, and that’s okay. Because the less time I spend worrying about fitting into their spaces, the more time I have to focus on building my own. And that’s where I do my best work.
What’s been different this time is that I’m no longer surprised by who supports me and who doesn’t. When I learned I was autistic, something shifted. The mask came off, and so did everyone else’s. You start seeing clearly who’s genuine and who’s only comfortable when you stay quiet.
Most of the people around me now are the ones who have lived this life, autistic adults, parents, caregivers, people who have had to rebuild themselves from systems that forgot them. And they’ve shown up. They’ve cheered me on, offered help, shared stories. Many others, people I never expected, have done the same.
And for the ones who haven’t, I don’t feel anger. Just data. I finally know where my base is.
Because when you stop trying to fit into circles that were never meant for you, you start building ones that are.
And those circles, messy, imperfect, and real, are where change actually begins.
If you’re a neurodivergent person who thinks politics isn’t for you, you’re wrong. It is. You just have to find the right people to support you.