When I was younger, I’d find myself alarmed when visiting other people’s houses.
Why?
They were always so quiet.
My Life Autistic was a strange variant. I grew up as the oldest of five siblings. We always had pets. Toys were everywhere. Never a dull moment. Rarely a quiet moment, too.
Me being me, I needed the silence, the stepping away to recuperate.
But my “normal” was loud. Chaotic.
Yeah, I might prefer a more mellow environment, but even more so:
I prefer routine, even if that ‘routine’ is a little busy, bustling, and boisterous.
Call it adaptation, acclimation, whatever, I’ve grown used to my days with a pinch of chaos.
And now as a dad who’s 100% autistic but also 1,000% invested in my crazy daughters, I don’t mind their little lunacy, their banter, their normal whirlwinds of action.
Even though I’m not wired for messes and their loud antics, I’ve been rewired.
I’ve embraced it.
The Life Autistic 
Sounds like my house; chaos