ugh. why? "special" interests.
the term is strangely loaded.
I'm supposed to have that one true obsession. be the expert on that thing. whichever side of the great tragedy/neurodiversity divide, the "special interest" is the cornerstone of autistic culture.
what is my Special interest?
well, this post could go 2 ways.
as a kid, I had to learn the hard way that friends shouldn't be Special Interests. I don't want to write about that, but maybe I should? maybe I will, some day.
the other thing I can think of is my crafting. it's not the typical, obsessively-memorising-facts way to have a Special Interest, but I am a sort-of expert in my preferred media. I know a lot of knitting terminology. I can freeform crochet with a hook fine enough to pass through my ear piercing. I know how to shift colour in 3 dimensions, and build forms that amaze my fellow polymer clay artists. when I grow up, I want to look like Iris Apfel except with all the bright things made by me (and some people in the community have worked this out, and said I look like a younger version of her at workshops).
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