I Don’t Fit the Mold—But I Was Made for This

Living with ASD-1 and Walking in God’s Purpose

For as long as I can remember, I knew I was different. I didn’t have many friends as a kid. I was the one who always seemed to be in trouble. The one with strange behaviors that made other parents uncomfortable. I couldn’t tie my shoes when everyone else could. I was in speech class until 7th grade—and only stopped because they didn’t offer it anymore.

From kindergarten on, I was picked on. Laughed at. Misunderstood. I wasn’t just the weird kid—I was the kid no one knew what to do with. And when I was fifteen, I got the label: Asperger’s. These days, they call it ASD-1. Back then? We just acted like it never happened. Who wants to be the kid with a label, right?

So, I just kept pushing through. No support groups. No accommodations. Just trying to survive in a world I didn’t feel built for. I had my rules. My routines. My way of doing things. And when life messed with those, I didn't react well. Still don’t, if I’m being honest.

Change throws me. Sudden shifts to my plans knock me sideways. I blow up over things most people shrug off. And when I get overwhelmed, I isolate. That reclusive side of me—it’s not a choice, it’s part of how I’m wired.

Relationships? Let’s just say they’ve been bumpy. I’m not outgoing. I don’t do well with things I can’t control. My marriage hasn’t always been easy, but my wife has stuck it out. As for my relationship with God? That’s had its rough patches too. I struggled with how He could let horrible things happen to people who didn’t deserve it—especially kids. But even in the anger, I never truly walked away. I need Him. I always have.

I also apologize a lot. If it’s not an apology, it’s me saying, "I was just joking." I tend to offend people, even when I don’t mean to. Some think my humor is dark—but honestly, most of the time I’m just telling it like it is. Then I see their reaction and backpedal with a quick, "Just kidding!" I don’t always pick up on sarcasm, and I’m not naturally sarcastic. When I try, it doesn’t always land. And I’m left wondering if I hurt someone without meaning to.

And here’s the thing: the older I get, the more I’m starting to realize that maybe I’m not broken. Maybe I was never supposed to fit the mold in the first place.

Maybe God made me this way for a reason.

I don’t panic when others do. I stay calm when things go sideways. I think deeply, feel intensely, and speak truth without sugarcoating it. I stand firm in my faith and in my morals—even when it’s unpopular. I’ve worn so many masks over the years trying to be what others expected. But I hit a point where I just stopped caring about fitting in.

If you're like me—wired differently, maybe labeled, maybe misunderstood—hear this: be you. Who cares what the world thinks? Don’t waste your life chasing their approval. You are you, and nobody can change that. Not even you. I know because I tried. I tried so hard to be someone else for so long. It only left me tired, angry, and empty.

But when I finally stopped hiding and started embracing how God made me, things began to shift. It doesn’t mean life got easy. But it got real. And real is better than fake any day.

I don’t fit the mold. But I was made for this.

I was made to speak when others stay silent. To create when others consume. To lead when others follow. To build something authentic, raw, and rooted in truth.

God doesn’t make mistakes. And He didn’t start with me.

So, I keep walking. Not perfectly. Not always gracefully. But with purpose.

Because even if I don’t fit this world’s mold… I was made for His mission.