Watching the Olympics the last few days, one cannot help but have so much respect for each of the participants, and all the work they put into their sport, leading them to such successes. But thinking of that led me to thinking about the hundreds and thousands of others, some who don’t – but some who do – work just as hard to try, and often fail, to achieve far less illustrious goals. Not just in sports, but in so many facets of life. I know, as an autistic, I have worked incredibly hard toward an invisible goal, that arguably nobody cares about but me. Yet with all the work I’ve invested, I celebrate those little victories I manage to achieve alone, and struggle through the failures alone – with few even aware of what my struggles are, or goals are. And I am not alone in that. Across the world there are so many who struggle just to live their lives, for whom every day is a struggle. And for so many of them, those successes they may achieve are not seen as such by a world that only looks to celebrate greatness. I will never be great, but I have worked hard for my goals, and no matter how hard I fall, I have always gotten up to try again. Perhaps I should not admit this – but some day, I really would like to be celebrated. Possibly the world does not see how I deserve that, but I do.