Disappointed

Dear Ed Asner,
Dear Will Ferrell,
Dear Carrie Fisher,
Dear Morgan Freeman,
Dear Tom Hanks,
Dear Derek Jeter,
Dear Leonard Nimoy,
Dear William Shatner,
Dear Patrick Stewart,
Dear Betty White,

I am disappointed.
I am saddened.
I wished you knew better,
I wished the world knew better.
I wished, but did not get.

You may have thought we needed their help.
That's what they wanted you to think.
Afflicted.
Burdened.
Tragic.
Their words tell you so.
That to be me is to be afflicted.
My neurology, my brain, it afflicts me.
They lie.

You may have thought they were helping, you were helping.
That's what they wanted you to think.
Changing futures.
Seeking a cure (for who we are.)
Supporting families (not us, our parents.)
Giving our parents, our siblings more space.
More space to speak of how autism ruined our lives.
Silencing us in the process.
They lie.

This may hurt to hear, but you need to hear it.
They don't want you to know this.
The world fearing us,
Not accepting us,
Othering us,
Those are worse for us than our disability by far.
Those are things they do for the funds to "help."
Those are things you helped them do.
They hurt.

I wish you knew before.
I wish you knew they hurt us.
I wish you knew you weren't helping.
I wish you knew before you hurt us too.
But you didn't.
You know now.
It's hard to hear, I know.
It hurts to hear, I'm sure.
Less than hearing you were going to help those who want my non-existence.
The truth behind their cure.