I don't go to the Podium often. Only when Bonkey has to see the vet, which happens every three months, or when I have to get him out of the house and I don't feel like going far.

That said, I do know that, on the fifth floor - it's the fifth floor, right? - there's this library of sorts where you can read books in relative quiet. I know this because it, somewhat ironically, is in front of a Fully Booked branch. Why buy books when you can just read them for free? I think we may have stumbled into part of the reason why we don't have good public libraries in the country. But I digress.

I remember reading that the staff of that mini-library are people with autism, or at least some of them. Haven't really gone deeper into it, since it's just a press release, but you don't really have to read it deeply to understand what's going on. The hope, I think, is to further integrate people in the spectrum with the larger community, especially since there's still this stigma about how people with autism are disruptive and antisocial and whatever unsavory adjective people have in mind from their experience.

I was walking Bonkey around the area, when he decided to walk into the library itself. I just follow him, so in I went. There were some people reading there, and behind the counter was a woman with a pin that proudly stated that she's in the spectrum. She was busy reading.

A staffer at the Fully Booked branch noticed us and decided to call Bonkey. Wswswswswsws. That usually doesn't work, but this time, it did. He walked through a very narrow gap between the shelves, which meant I had to let the leash go so I could walk around and get him back. I admit I was a little annoyed.

I got him fine, and we continued walking. By that, I mean he sniffed around the balustrades while I prayed he would not enter a restaurant. Next thing I know, we were back at the mini-library, and this time, the lady with the pin noticed us.

"Ang cute!" she said. "Anong breed?"

"Persian," I answer. This is a conversation I always have whenever we're here.

"Cuuuuute," she replied.

You know, if not for the pin, it would not have struck me that she is in the spectrum. And I say this as a person who is more exposed than most to people on the spectrum, and who is more aware of what it means beyond how television shows portray people on the spectrum. Heck, I was bullied by what seemed to be an entire school at 12 years old, and they all called me "autistic". That does not count, but it sure made me aware of a group of people who are ostracized just because they're different.

I have not been formally diagnosed with autism. ADHD, yes. But in recent years, I have been thinking about whether this is an error that needs to be rectified. Maybe I am in the spectrum. It's not because of the obsessive knowledge I have about things very few people care about. It's not because of how I can take longer to adjust to changes in my routine. I realized this at the office one time, when I was talking to a colleague and realized that I was not making eye contact. I could say I was just thinking about what to say,  but maybe that isn't the case.

But do I want a label on that behavior? I mean no offense, but no. I ultimately don't think I want to confirm whether I am in the spectrum or not. Sure, it will help me understand myself better, the way I am truly beginning to get to grips with my own ADHD diagnosis from almost a quarter century ago, but honestly? I don't want the label. I don't want the label to define me. That will tell a lot of people that they're right to ostracize me. I don't want to hand them that victory, even if it only exists in my head. The people who bullied me in high school from day one do not deserve that satisfaction. The cheating ex-girlfriend who used my being a neurodivergent to excuse her behavior certainly does not.