Sometimes, I feel different.
Not bad. Not wrong.
Just… different.

Noises can feel too loud.
Crowds make my tummy feel wobbly.
I like quiet places best.

I smell colors in the sky.
I hear the tiny wings of a butterfly.
I see a sparrow perched way up high—
even when no one else notices.

I notice things.
Little things.
Magical things.

But sometimes…
I can’t find the words for how I feel.
My feelings come out in a burst—
a stomp, a cry, or a big, big sigh.

Looking in your eyes is hard.
Talking too much makes me tired.
Conversations can feel like puzzles.

Clothes sometimes hurt my skin.
But cool, smooth beach pebbles calm me.
I rock back and forth to feel safe again.

I know when someone’s smiling
but feeling sad inside.
I can read the shapes of feelings.

I don’t always say “I love you,”
but I care very deeply.
You might not always see it—
but it’s there.

I love to draw and color—
my own designs,
not the ones in coloring books.

I like the taste of certain foods.
Some textures? No, thank you.
Some? Yes, please!

I study animals, the moon, and the stars.
I ask big questions
and dream quiet dreams.

Sometimes, I don’t answer quickly.
Or cleverly.
But I am listening.
I am here.

I am not strange.
Or broken.
Or too shy.

I just see the world
in my very own way.

And maybe…
that’s exactly why
I’m here.

Sandy Astrid Cooper
Author of “Ingy and Her Secret Superpowers”

2025