This guest post is by Olivia Long, an autistic student who plans to study graphic design at Indiana University Indianapolis. She hopes to use creativity and inclusive design to help others feel seen and understood. Olivia is applying for the Spring 2026 Making a Difference Autism Scholarship through KFM Making a Difference, the nonprofit founded by Kerry Magro. Kerry was nonspeaking until age 2.5 and was diagnosed with autism at 4.
Autistics on Autism: The Next Chapter shares stories from more than 100 autistic adults about what helped them while growing up and pursuing their dreams. All proceeds support KFM Making a Difference initiatives, including this scholarship program. To invite Kerry to speak at your school, company, or organization, submit an inquiry here.
Hi, I’m Olivia. I’m a little quiet at first, but I have a lot going on in my head (in a good way). I’m learning to step outside my comfort zone one small step at a time and am excited to keep growing.
If I had to describe what growing up autistic felt like, I would say it felt like everyone else got instructions for life that I never received.
In elementary school, I remember watching other kids talk, laugh, and form friendships so easily. It seemed natural for them, like they just knew what to say and when to say it. For me, nothing about social interaction felt natural. Every conversation felt like a test I hadn’t studied for. I would overthink everything, what if I said the wrong thing? What if I sounded weird? What if they didn’t like me? Most of the time, it felt easier to stay quiet than to risk getting it wrong.
By middle school, those feelings didn’t go away, they got stronger. That’s also when I was diagnosed with Autism. At the time, I didn’t fully understand what that meant, but I knew it explained why things felt harder for me than they seemed for everyone else. Anxiety in social situations became one of my biggest challenges. Group work, presentations, even just sitting with people at lunch could feel overwhelming. I often felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. It also did not help that during this time COVID-19 happened, making it even harder to interact with others.
What people didn’t always see, though, was how hard I was trying. Even when I stayed quiet, my mind was never quiet. I was constantly thinking, analyzing, and trying to figure out how to connect with others. I wanted to be included, I just didn’t always know how to get there.
High school is where things slowly started to change for me. It wasn’t like everything suddenly became easy, but I began to find my place. I found a small group of friends who accepted me for who I am. They didn’t expect me to be someone else or talk all the time. For the first time, I felt like I didn’t have to pretend or overthink every word. That sense of belonging, even in a small way, meant everything to me.
Around the same time, I pushed myself in another way that honestly scared me more than anything. I joined a work-based learning program through my high school that allowed me to work in a middle school health clinic. I had always been interested in helping people, but the idea of working directly with others, talking to patients, and being in a fast-paced environment felt overwhelming.
The first few days were some of the hardest. I remember waking up feeling anxious before I even got there. My mind would race with “what ifs,” and there were moments where I froze mid-conversation because I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to quit. It would have been easier to walk away and go back to what felt safe.
But I didn’t. Instead, I kept showing up. I started small, practicing what I would say before interactions, asking questions when I was unsure, and reminding myself that it was okay not to be perfect. Slowly, things began to change. Conversations became a little easier. I started to feel more comfortable helping others. I even found moments where I felt proud of myself, which was something I wasn’t always used to.
One of my biggest accomplishments came from that experience: earning my Certified Clinical Medical Assistant (CCMA) license at just 16 years old. Out of my entire class, only one other student and I achieved that at that age. For someone who once struggled just to speak up in social situations, that moment meant more than I can fully explain. It proved to me that I was capable of doing hard things, even the ones that scared me the most.
Through all of this, I’ve learned that being autistic is not something that holds me back, it’s something that has shaped my strength. Yes, I still feel anxious in social situations. Yes, there are still moments that feel uncomfortable or overwhelming, but I’ve learned how to work through those feelings instead of letting them control me.
I’ve also learned something even more important: you don’t have to fit in everywhere to belong somewhere.
That lesson changed everything for me. For so long, I thought I needed to be like everyone else to be accepted. Now I understand that my differences, how I think, how I process the world, how I create, are part of what makes me who I am and that’s something I’m proud of.
Outside of school, I’ve found other ways to express myself, like writing. One of my poems about autism was selected for publication, which gave me a voice in a different way. Sometimes it’s easier for me to put my thoughts into words on paper than to say them out loud, and that’s okay. It’s just another way I connect with the world.
As I look toward my future at Indiana University Indianapolis, I carry all of these experiences with me. My journey hasn’t been perfect, but it’s been real. Every challenge I’ve faced has helped me grow stronger, more understanding, and more determined.
If there’s one thing I would want others in the autism community to take from my story, it is that growth doesn’t always happen in big, obvious moments. Sometimes it happens in the quietest ways, speaking up when you’re scared, trying again after something feels uncomfortable, or simply choosing not to give up on yourself.
You don’t have to have everything figured out. You don’t have to be the loudest person in the room. You don’t even have to feel confident all the time.
You just have to keep going because the person you’re becoming is worth it.
By Olivia Long
Kerry Magro, a professional speaker and best-selling author who is also autistic, founded KFM Making a Difference in 2011 to help autistic students receive scholarship support for post-secondary education. Help us continue this work by making a tax-deductible donation here.
You can also invite Kerry to speak at your next event by submitting an inquiry here. Kerry speaks with schools, businesses, government agencies, colleges, nonprofits, parent groups, and conferences on autism, employment, college success, mental health, inclusion, and bullying prevention.
