While reading this I would often find myself gasping and quietly muttering “that’s me” to my bedroom walls.
Fern Brady has verbalised the tribulations of being a late diagnosed autistic AFAB person perfectly, with such deft and raw honesty. 
Every single chapter unhinged my chest and nestled its way in, hurting and healing a part of me with each progression. Being AFAB, being autistic, being mentally ill, and being a problem to your family is so universally felt and yet so torturously lonely, but Brady has portrayed this life beautifully and I wish I could read every word again for the first time.