This is a memory I wrote down long before I had words like autism or ADHD for it.

I was diagnosed at 40. I’m 41 now, and I’m slowly unpacking my past with a new lens — noticing the sensory details, the literal thinking, the overwhelm, and also the joy and safety that were always there.

This piece isn’t about labels. It’s about how understanding myself has changed the way I hold my memories — and my future.

Our first proper date was at the Curry House.

I remember being excited. I wore a long dress and you had a shirt and jeans on.

I wasn’t entirely sure what I was meant to do or say. I’d never been taken for a meal before.
The décor caught my eye. It was all shiny and sparkly.

We spoke about what food we should order. I have always enjoyed the sensation of new flavours on my tongue, so I was happy with anything. Which was good, because I didn’t get chance to look at the menu before the date. I get overwhelmed sometimes with all the choices on a menu.

The music was at a nice low volume in the background and the other diners were quiet. That was perfect for me.

When the waiter brought our starter out, you told me to be careful with the metal tray because it was hot.
My first reaction was to put my bare wrist on it to check if it was hot.
It was hot.
I think I said, “So it is.”
You rolled your eyes and laughed.
I smiled and wondered what I did that was funny.

We left before it got busy.
I don’t like busy.