I think that there is a delicate balance. For me, the opposite was true. I am happier now that I am more high maintenance.

So, I was diagnosed autistic as an adult, but, obviously, I have been that my whole life. I was taught that my comfort didn't matter. My feelings didn't matter. I learned to ignore pain, to shake off discomfort, and to pretend not to be bothered by things that really bothered me because to do otherwise was to be weak. And being weak makes you a target.

For example, fluorescence lights have always hurt my eyes. Now, when my head starts hurting, I put on my sunglasses. The fact that I am carrying more crap around, like said sunglasses means I need a bigger purse. So be it. It also means people sometimes look at me funny. Let them look. They aren't going to be the ones driving home with a migraine after this.

Folks will talk about you if you bring a big suitcase for a short trip. Now, I am like let them talk. I can fit my good pillow in my suitcase and a soft towel. If I get a good night's sleep, the days will go better for me. If that means waiting at the baggage claim or rolling a big suitcase that is what it is.

I also realized that if I can control the things I can, it leaves space in my brain for the unexpected things that are not in my control. I guess I am not wasting energy pretending not to be miserable to preserve someone else's view of what should make me comfortable. And I am happier for it.

So for me, high maintenance for the win.