It's beautiful, isn't it? It's my favorite place in the whole wide world. But what do you see when you look here? I imagine you see trees, green leaves, some branches, a beautiful woodland scene. But what I see is different because I'm seeing every trunk, every branch, I'm seeing the connections between them, and then I see the leaves.
I can see the slightly different colors, slightly different shapes, any damage that's been done to them. As a naturalist, this is enormously beneficial, but sometime all of this, the visual part of my world is simply too much. It becomes. Utterly overwhelming, and that's because I'm autistic. Yeah. In 2017, I first shared my autism diagnosis on television.
Since then, I've been astonished by the thousands of letters and emails I've received from other autistic people, some telling me the program had helped them connect with the people around them, but others telling me they're lonely, miserable, even suicidal because they feel the world doesn't understand them.
For me, these letters reveal a hidden crisis because estimates suggest there could be as many as 700,000 autistic people in the uk and I think that the wider world still doesn't really understand what it means to be autistic. And this is a problem for those of us who already feel excluded, different like, we don't fit in
in this series. I want to do something about it. Working with top filmmakers, graphic designers, animators, and musicians, I'm giving four autistic people the chance to bring their experiences to life. That's it, by creating short films. Okay, cool. That reveal to their friends and families, to my mum, how they're really feeling inside, I hope to give all of us better understanding of our autistic minds.
For much of my early life, I felt completely misunderstood, like no one knew what was going on inside my head, how different my world was. If I can now change that for just one person, then my work here will be done.
There's no one autistic experience. Every autistic person has their own unique set of strengths and challenges, not always apparent to the naked eye. And that's certainly the case for the first person I'm meeting. I, I'm on lettuce. I'm on lettuce. That's nice. Go on my way. And Flon is 28 and lives in Wilshire with her husband Duncan.
Oh, immediately died. Nearly everyone immediately died. In her spare time, she enjoys performing improvised comedy. And tonight at this pub, her troupe are topping the bell. I don't know who's more scared, blow or me. I'm not a fan of pubs or any busy, noisy spaces. And this room is getting louder and louder.
Ladies, gentle to runaway. Yes, this is the last place I would expect to find another autistic person. Thank you. Slowly overestimate how tall I am now, let alone see one on stage. I'm going to ask you to shout out the name of this gerbil before me. He doesn't have a name yet because I've only just imagined him.
Pretty sure that was overwhelmingly Gary. Now, improv might not be my cup of tea, but I am impressed by Flo's confidence and wit. It's often said that autistic people struggle in large groups. He flung herself into his arms, kiss him almost wildly, but the audience are eating out of her hands. I mean, I can transfer you soon.