Almost Exactly a Year Ago, I was Diagnosed With Autism.
This came about two years after my ADHD diagnosis, which you can read about here.
Lately I've been thinking *so* much about my autism diagnosis. I went through a whole journey when I was diagnosed with ADHD, but the stigmas and assumptions regarding what autism looks like have inhibited my ability to understand myself. Few of the people in my life seem interested in fully engaging with my diagnosis. Only one of my close friends has asked me about my diagnosis in the year that’s passed between now and then. When I mention my autism in conversations I’m more often met with silence than curiosity.
I think it’s because my autism is invisible to most people— I’ve spent a lifetime learning how to pass as normal— closely watching others and making sure they were comfortable, rather than expressing myself in ways that are coded as autistic. This is called masking. I think we all mask to a certain extent, but for autistic folks a mask can be quite unaligned with their true expression of self. It’s not necessarily the fault of my friends for failing to “see” my autism. It’s no one’s fault. But neurotypical people could certainly do a little more work to understand those of us who are different.
Autism Expresses Itself Differently in Everyone
Just as every single person is indeed an individual, every autistic person (or person with autism, whichever you prefer) is unique in how they navigate the world.
Long before my own diagnosis, I discovered a unique ability to understand autistic kids and young adults. When I was eighteen I worked in a home for children with disabilities; this included autism. This led to an openness when it came to nannying: some nannies won’t work with “high needs” children, but I was drawn to them. We always had a special connection (now I know why).
Many caregivers tend to set a goal of “functional” for their autistic children and charges. To them, this can mean neurotypical. This need to align autistic kids with the “norm” of neurodivergence has loosened its grip in the past couple decades, but only by a little bit. The children I cared for were all nonverbal, but they communicated beautifully in their own ways. None of them fit neatly into a textbook definition of autistic. One’s mother said her six year-old son wasn’t a “typical autistic kid, because he’s affectionate.” But many folks with autism are affectionate, loving, and expressive. It looks different for everyone. Curiosity goes a long way in finding out how the autistic people in your life operate, and what feels comfortable for them. It’s almost guaranteed that they are thinking of your comfort quite often, especially if they don’t read as autistic.
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