Temple Grandin, that is. When many autistic people disclose that they are autistic, a common question they receive is, "Have you heard of Temple Grandin?" If you don't know who Temple Grandin is, she is an American animal science professor, public speaker, & author who is widely thought of as the "face" of autism. So, when many people think of autism or autistic people, they think of her. This is why many autistic people are asked if they have heard of her when they first disclose that they are autistic. When I was asked this question, I had not heard of her, probably because this was towards the beginning of my autistic journey of self-discovery. All of the literature I was choosing to read were written by women in their thirties & forties. Women who were much closer in age to me & therefore, their life experiences were very relatable to mine. Temple is in her seventies, so I know her life experiences are drastically different from mine growing up. However, as time went on, I have learned more & more about her & now I can tell you that there is so much about her that just doesn't sit right with me. Many other autistic people look up to her & call her a "hero" or an "inspiration," & this may surprise you, but Temple Grandin most certainly isn't a hero of mine. Before I tell you why that is, I would like to tell you about the positive things Temple Grandin has done for the autistic community.
Why Temple Grandin Isn't My Hero:
While, yes, Temple Grandin, one of the first openly autistic people, has done many great things for the autistic community, she will most certainly NOT be my hero until she changes her ableist views about autistic people.
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What Is Autistic Masking, Anyway? Autistic masking, otherwise known as camouflaging, is sometimes used by autistic people to disguise or minimize specific autistic traits or behaviors in social situations. Why Do Some Autistic People Mask? Some reasons autistic people might mask include, but are not limited to:
Who Masks? While any autistic person may mask, it is more likely for autistic people to mask if they:
What Are Some Examples Of Masking?
What Are The Consequences Of Masking?
Masking & Me:
Ways I Masked Growing Up:
Ways I Mask As An Adult:
I'm going to start this blog post off by saying this: this is the most vulnerable blog post I have written thus far. Some things that are in it are things that I've mentioned before & some things aren't. But, everything in this post is as real & as raw as it gets, is one-thousand percent true, & is something that I felt needed to be said. Growing up, & even now, my life was & is a struggle. I was autistic & I didn't know it for almost thirty-two years because I grew up at a time when girls like me were just not diagnosed with autism. I was living in a world that I didn't fit into, but I had no understanding as to why that was until about a year & a half ago. I was so lucky because my parents did everything they could to give me the BEST childhood ever. And I'm so thankful for that. However, there were certain things that no matter how loving & how supportive my parents were, they just couldn't protect me from. Every autistic person you talk to will have something to tell you about how society treats her or him; about the trauma that (s)he endures on a daily basis. The way neurotypical people treat us does real, long-lasting harm. I never understood why people treated me so poorly because I didn't think I did anything wrong. Were they treating me that way because I simply exist? Probably. The bullying I experienced in elementary school through college was INTENSE, & it only worsened the older I got. From being made fun of for being too quiet to having my feet walked on top of on a daily basis to being barked at & growled at like an angry dog to boys trying to trip me in the hall & slapping my butt when I was at my locker. Freshman year in college, they put me into a quad with another Shrewsbury alum who inserted nasty things about me into the brain of another one of my roommates. They ganged up against me & made my life a living hell for the entire year. A couple years later, a different roommate suddenly gave me the silent treatment & I had no idea why, until one of her friends told me. It was because I was uncomfortable with boys sleeping over in our room, something that I thought was perfectly reasonable, especially for a quiet & a timid girl like myself. I was never given the chance to make any sort of compromise because she never told me why she was so mad. Many years later, I found out that this particular roommate now has an autistic child. What a coincidence! Being treated with such cruelty on a daily basis for so many years is extremely traumatic for us. And it often has the same types of consequences on our brains as going to war, witnessing someone get murdered, or having an abusive spouse would. It just takes a much longer amount of time to do the same amount of damage. More than 40% of autistic individuals struggle with post-traumatic stress disorder & although I have never been diagnosed, I do think I am one of them. I think that the effects of having to endure the type of treatment I described above for so many years is why it takes me such a long time to trust someone, even now, as an adult. I also never really voiced the significant amount of pain I was experiencing to my parents because I didn't want to worry them. So, I didn't get as much support as I probably needed while I was going through that. I knew I have caused them A LOT of worry ever since the day I was born & I didn't want to add to it even more. From a very young age, I wanted to do everything I could to be the best daughter I could be, even if it meant unintentionally harming myself. When I first learned from my physician that the cause of all of my lifelong struggles was due to living with undiagnosed autism, I took a couple of months to process it & to learn more about how autism affects girls & women. But, after I did that, I wanted to do more digging into my past to learn more about how autism affected me as a young child & as an adolescent. I knew that when I was in school, my mom kept a very thick manilla envelope full of documents & letters from various medical professionals & educators. Knowing how organized my mom always was, I asked her if she still had that envelope & she did. This envelope ended up being a treasure box into my past, containing a lot of information, some that I never knew about myself, from when I was less than a year old until I was eighteen years old. One of the things that really stuck out to me was meeting notes from my seventh grade language arts teacher, Peggy. Better expression in written vs. verbal. More sophisticated style of writing. Not good with being caught off guard. Interacts better with adults. Gets frustrated in groups since they are fooling around and she is so concerned with her grades. Kids aren't patient waiting for her to respond. Struggles with reading comprehension. Getting a bit better advocating for herself. ALL autistic traits. Thinking back to seventh grade, I had always thought very highly of Peggy. I wondered if she remembered anything else about me that would be helpful for me to know, going into an autism evaluation. I knew that she no longer worked in the Shrewsbury schools, but teachers' contact information is usually readily available online. I looked Peggy up & I wrote her an email explaining my lifelong difficulties & how they led to an impending autism diagnosis. I attached a scanned copy of the meeting notes to the email, as well. However, since at this time, I had been a student in her classroom just over eighteen years ago & I hadn't seen or spoken to her in at least fifteen years, I had this underlying fear that she wouldn't remember who I was. I felt like I was a fly on the wall in school, barely saying a word & blending in with the background. I knew she'd had a lot of students since then & I thought I was easy to forget. Spilling my guts out to her only for her to not remember me would've been SO utterly embarrassing. This was in early August of 2022, by the way. It was only a couple of days before I heard back from Peggy & I was beyond relieved to know that she absolutely did remember me. Peggy sounded so delighted to hear from me, too. She described me as a very kind, shy, reserved student (with black-framed glasses if I recall correctly), but she admitted that she didn't think she had much more detail to give me. However, she did offer to chat by phone. And I eagerly took her up on that. If we chatted on the phone, I might be able to foster another connection with a caring & a supportive person & I really felt like that was exactly what I needed because like many autistic people, my life was extremely isolating. This blog post is about my interactions with Peggy & how her kindness & her compassion have changed my life. Peggy didn't know this going in, but I had a lot going on in my life at the time I reached out to her, most of it not even having to do with autism. Back in 2015, my maternal grandpa had a debilitating stroke that left one side of his body without feeling & completely took away his ability to process language (this is known as global aphasia). I unfortunately did not grieve the stroke properly & still to this day, I am in denial that it ever happened in the first place. Now that I know I'm autistic, this makes total sense as we do not grieve in the same way that neurotypicals do. My grandma was his devoted caregiver ever since. The year prior to when I connected with Peggy, my grandparents relocated to Shrewsbury from California because my grandma was dying from tongue cancer. She lived here in Shrewsbury for just two & a half months before succumbing to the disease (six months earlier than expected). While I never had much of a relationship with my grandma, watching my grandpa grieve the love of his life for over sixty years & worrying everyday that he would die of a broken heart was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. At the time I had reached out to Peggy, we had recently passed the one-year mark of my grandma's passing. I was also still getting into the groove of being a secondary caregiver to my grandpa. Due to the brain damage caused by his stroke, my grandpa would often say & do things that hurt me tremendously. No matter how much I tried to remind myself that my able-minded grandpa would never say or do such things, I just couldn't get the hurt to go away. This was particularly difficult for me to deal with because my grandpa & I have always been incredibly close. His hurtful actions were a complete one-eighty from how he'd treated me for the first twenty-five years of my life. All of these things would be difficult for anyone to cope with, but when you're autistic, you're handed a plethora of challenges in life that allistic, or non-autistic people have the privilege of never having to experience. And it's those challenges that make dealing with things like this significantly more difficult. Keep in mind that I didn't know that I was autistic when all of the above events actually happened, so I didn't understand why I reacted like this, why I reacted completely differently from the rest of my family. Ever since I was a young child; I have yearned for my grandparents to live close by & I was so, SO happy to finally have that; but now that I did, my life had become a complete circus. It's something you can't understand without living it.
On the autism forefront, just a couple months ago, I had learned that the reason why I have struggled so much throughout my life was because I was living with undiagnosed autism. It was the reason why:
That first phone conversation I had with Peggy was a breath of fresh air. Back when I was her student, I remember her being really easy to talk to & that was still the case. I filled her in on a lot of things, many of those things being things that hardly anyone knows about me, things that I'm ashamed of. The fact that I even felt comfortable enough to fill her in on those things, after all this time, speaks volumes about Peggy's character, the person she is; especially since I've always felt like I need to protect myself from people; I've always been afraid to show the real me. The way Peggy reacted to the things I told her was really, really comforting. She really took the time to stop & to listen to what I had to say & she didn't make me feel judged, guilty, or like I had done anything wrong. Every time I mentioned how something made me feel, whether it was a positive or a negative emotion, she validated it. And if she suggested something that I didn't think would work, I would explain why, & that was totally okay with her, too. She also told me how much she admired my courage in reaching out to her & that she was here for me. Having that conversation with Peggy gave me the courage to reach out to many of my other former teachers, as well. And while some of those other teachers gave me much more detailed insight than what Peggy could offer me; a few even telling me that an autism diagnosis would absolutely not surprise them; it was Peggy's kindness, support, time, & most of all, her compassion that made the biggest difference to me. That was what I needed more than anything else in the world. As I had other conversations with Peggy later on, she felt that she could no longer offer me the kind of support I needed. Her experience was with adolescents & I was an adult with adult problems looking into adult resources (which I now know are scarce). However, I can tell you that this is absolutely NOT the case at all. I have gone my entire life feeling like when I talk, NO ONE hears me & my feelings don't matter. Sadly, these are commonalities among autistic people. Peggy was the first person I talked to in many, many, many YEARS who really made me feel like she heard what I had to say & she valued my opinion. Plus, she was so, so, SO kind. And she was so incredibly compassionate, too. I have lived a lifetime of people being unkind to me; being critical of everything I do or say, everything I don't do or say, every facial expression I make or don't make. So, it's extra noticeable when someone IS kind; when someone accepts me as I am; when someone ISN'T judgmental; when someone really, truly CARES. When I looked Peggy up to make that first contact & I discovered that she was no longer a language arts teacher, but she was a special education teacher, I wasn't surprised. The notes that she made about me were much more insightful & helpful than the notes I came across from every single one of my other former teachers. Every single one of Peggy's notes was so SPOT ON, about me, AND about an autistic middle school girl. However, after having the interactions with Peggy that I had, I really, truly feel that special education was what she was meant to do with her life; it was her calling. The kids in her classroom are SO lucky to have her. I know she's changing their lives because she's changed mine & it's been twenty years now since I've been her student. (Typing that out makes me feel so old!) More recently, a couple weeks ago, Peggy's mom passed away. When I found out about her family's loss, I knew I needed to go to the visitation. While I've tried to thank Peggy for what she's done for me numerous times before, I didn't think I got my message across effectively enough. There was no better way to thank her, to tell her how much I appreciate her than by going to the visitation to support her & her family during their time of grief. While I was still waiting in line, Peggy caught my eye & gave me a reassuring smile, totally calming my nerves. I knew that the only reason she recognized me was because I had sent her a recent photo of myself back when I originally connected with her. (I look A LOT different now than I did when she knew me in middle school.) That day, during what had to have been one of the most difficult times in Peggy's life, between small actions she was taking & things she said, Peggy was still blowing me away with her kindness & her compassion. When I spoke with her in the receiving line, Peggy asked me about how things were progressing. The fact that she continued to show me so much care & concern while she was grieving the loss of her mom, once again spoke volumes about the absolutely wonderful person Peggy is. As much as I wanted to express the great frustration I was feeling due to things moving slower than molasses, as well as some of the resource people I was working with not only not seeming to know how to help a late-diagnosed autistic woman like myself, but actually making things worse; I didn't. There was a line of people a mile long behind me, all waiting to talk to Peggy & her siblings. Plus, I wasn't there to talk about my personal difficulties. I was there to give her my condolences, my love, my compassion, & my support; things that she had given me a couple years earlier that meant so, SO much to me. I really, REALLY hope that I'll have the chance to fill her in on those things & more one day, at a much quieter time, when I'm not feeling like I need to give her MY support. A few days earlier, when I mentioned to my mom that I was going to go to this visitation, she told me I was very brave for going alone. (This was the first time I had ever been to, or even thought about going to visiting hours by myself-- the couple other times I had been to visiting hours, my family was with me.) In my mind though, I had no choice other than to go to this. I knew that Peggy would never expect me to be there, but Peggy made such a big impact on me recently that I really felt like I needed to go. I am SO quiet; I have a lot of anxiety when it comes to social situations, especially with people I don't know; & I'm someone who really struggles with coming out of my comfort zone. But, when I feel this strongly about something, I do it. And I was SO glad I did. When I talked to Peggy about why I wanted to be there to support her & her family & what an impact she'd made on me, I knew she was really touched by my presence. And that really warmed my heart. So, as I wrap up this very long blog post, why am I telling you all of this? Well, it's because I think you can learn a lot from what Peggy did. What she did is a very good illustration of how doing something so simple can really turn someone's whole life around. When I reached out to Peggy, I was hoping for a little bit of insight, but I got something so much more meaningful instead. She was so unbelievably kind & compassionate, giving me her time & a listening ear. Things that I so desperately needed. And that made such an enormous difference to me in the lonely world that I was living in. 💙 During a recent family birthday dinner, my mom's cousin's husband made a comment about the fact that I probably didn't cry much as a baby or as a young child. The truth is, though, that that couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, as my dad told him, I was a very colicky baby with quite a loud cry for the first three months of my life. I remember family friends, neighbors, & some family making similar comments to both my parents & me ever since I was a little girl. We could always see their point because on the outside, I was a quiet, well-behaved, polite little girl who was comfortable interacting with adults. No, I didn't know how to start or keep a conversation going, but as long as I was talking to someone who could do that for me, that wasn't a problem. This is also often the reason why autistic girls who are now in their twenties & older are often not diagnosed until adulthood, if they are diagnosed at all. Little autistic girls often acted just like how I did growing up. They tended to be quiet, not cause trouble, did as they were told, & interacted well with adults. They were what my parents' friends would call a dream child. On the other hand, little autistic boys tended to be loud, troublemakers, disruptive, & had difficulty listening. Because of this, the parents & the teachers of these boys saw their behavior as problematic, which pushed them to get them evaluated for & diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. The Girl Wearing The Mask: I have been told countless times by my parents' friends, particularly by the ones who have sons & no daughters, that they wished that they had a daughter just like me. I mean, I was the perfect child after all. A quiet girl who never caused any trouble. What else could a parent want? Growing up in a neighborhood full of boys, I remember sitting on my next-door neighbor's front steps, helping her pull dead flowers out of her large flowerpot while she braided my hair. I had the hair she so badly wanted to play with before her daughter was born. 😜 Given that picture I just painted for you, from the outside, I looked like I was any parent's dream child, so it was abundantly clear to me why my family's family & friends would think that raising a girl like me was easy. When comments like that were made to me, I just smiled & nodded my head, thinking to myself that they don't know what my home & school life was really like. The struggles I went through day in & day out. The worry I caused my parents. The struggles & worry that now make so much sense with an autism diagnosis. The Girl Behind The Mask:
Home Life: I experienced very intense dizzy spells when I was an infant & again from when I was six until I was seventeen. A big part of my & my family's life when I was growing up was revolved around preventing me from experiencing dizziness, or at least preventing dizzy spells from coming on when I was outside of our home. I remember the traumatic details of it so vividly that it's as if it is happening right now. I would be lying in bed & I would feel like the entire world was going round & round. The world felt like it was spinning so fast all around me, frightening me more than I've ever been frightened before. I remember screaming & crying at the top of my lungs & gripping my dad's hands for dear life. Nothing my parents could do or say would help. Nothing helped other than a full night's sleep. I was always told to try to go to sleep when this happened, but I never could unless it was actually bedtime. Yes, it was just as bad as I'm making it seem. If you would like to read more about my experiences with dizzy spells & my very intense fear of being dizzy, I go into even more detail about this in my previous blog posts about the coronavirus pandemic, about vestibular processing, & about vestibular overload. While I'm still very prone to dizziness to this day, it is such a relief that it no longer affects me like it once did. Due to this trauma I faced when I was growing up, feeling dizzy continues to be one of my top fears. So, I still live my life in a way where I do everything I can to prevent feeling even slightly dizzy. I know what my triggers are, I am very aware of my body & how certain things make me feel, & I have coping mechanisms to help the feeling of dizziness be more manageable. This is one of the reasons why when I drink alcoholic beverages, as soon as I start feeling like there is alcohol inside of my body, I stop drinking. The happy & relaxed feeling that you get when you drink is quite frightening for me & is something I want to do everything in my power to avoid. School Life: Academically: I couldn't learn like other students my age could & my very observant fourth grade teacher picked up on it, suggesting to my parents that they get me evaluated for learning disabilities. When I was ten, I was diagnosed with a nonverbal learning disability & processing speed difficulties. I now know that this was a misdiagnosis because many of the symptoms of nonverbal learning disabilities are the same as the traits an autistic child might have. Girls of my ability level were just not being diagnosed with autism back then. When I was in fifth grade, my parents took me into Boston to have further learning disability testing done. The results showed pretty severe deficits, which ended up being caused by a medication my neurologist prescribed me for my dizzy spells (discussed above ↑), which doctors believed was either a migraine or a seizure variant. My parents were super upset because this testing was very expensive & was not at all helpful. Unfortunately, this particular medication had no impact on the frequency or on the severity of my dizzy spells either. Socially: Because I wasn't well-liked by my peers, I was bullied pretty severely from the time I was in first grade until I was a college senior. This is a commonality among us autistics. Every autistic child & every autistic adult you talk to will likely have something to say about bullying. Knowing that I have always caused my parents extra worry, I tried to minimize the pain that I was experiencing in front of them. I think this is a lot of the reason why the effects of the bullying still have a profound effect on me to this day. Even at that young age, I was trying to be the best daughter I could be. 💙 Since Thanksgiving was just last week, I thought I'd spend this blog post telling you about what I'm thankful for. And no, autism didn't make the list. As I have said many times in this blog before, while many autistic people see autism as a superpower, something unique & wonderful about themselves, I see it as a hardship & a burden. Something that has very much gotten in the way of me achieving the white picket fence lifestyle I have dreamt of ever since I was a little girl. I had an interesting conversation with my mom last night, so before we move onto what this blog post is really about, I'd like to talk for a moment about Autism Acceptance. My mom made a comment about how I have accepted my autism, but I was quick to correct her. "I haven't accepted my autism. That's one of the things that I hate the most about myself & I wish it would just go away!" I said to her. "But you write all about it in your blog. You're very open about it there," my mom said. "I haven't accepted it though & I probably never will. I can write about it without accepting it. I'm open about it because I want people to have a better understanding of me. I hate my autism!" I exclaimed. "Okay, acknowledge then. You acknowledge that you have autism," my mom said, correcting the verbiage that she had been using. Yes, I acknowledge that I'm autistic. And I'm open about it, too. I'm trying to use my diagnosis to help others have a better understanding of me & to be more accepting of people who are a little bit different from them. But, accepting my autism? I'm far, far, FAR away from that. And to be completely honest with you, I can't see myself ever accepting it. I mean, autism has made my life so much more difficult than it would've been if I was neurotypical. Autism is something I want to stomp on, throw into a fire, & never see again. You get the picture. Feeling that way about my autism isn't acceptance. I wish I could get to the place of autism acceptance, but I haven't gotten there. And I don't think I ever will. What I'm Thankful For:
However, there are certain life experiences, things I have learned, & perspectives that I have that I only have because I am autistic. And that is what I'm thankful for. While I am definitely NOT thankful for autism itself, I do have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving, that is related to autism in one way or another. Those things include, but are not limited to...
My mom & I went to see Barbie this afternoon. I thought I would never, ever see this movie. My impression of this movie before knowing anything about it was that it was just a silly doll movie. Plus, I absolutely downright HATED Barbie growing up. My mom came home a couple days ago & told me she wanted to see this movie with me because she kept hearing people saying that it is a great movie for mothers & daughters to see together, it has great messages, & it has made them both laugh AND cry. I rolled my eyes, but agreed to go with her. Barbie & Me: At all of my birthday parties as a child, I would inevitably receive at least one Barbie doll. I mean, it was such a popular gift for a girl growing up in the 90's, but receiving one as a gift completely stressed both my mom & me out. I can still hear my mom right now: "When you open a Barbie at your birthday party tomorrow, remember to say thank you." Scripting was a common occurrence in my childhood. I didn’t know how to properly react to certain situations, so my mom had to prep me ahead of time. There was no gift I hated to receive more than Barbie. Now, picture an autistic girl trying to hide her disappointment in a gift that she knew she would inevitably receive, that she truly hated. That was HARD. Really HARD. If it wasn't for my younger brother who liked to play with my Barbies' hair & very inappropriately take her clothing off, my Barbies would never have even come out of their boxes to this day. 😂 😂 Why I Hated Barbie: I simply didn't know how to play with her or what to do with her. As I discussed in my blog post about autism gender differences & what autism looks like in females, one of the most common traits in both male & female autism is not knowing how to engage in pretend play. One difference between autistic boys & girls is that little girls are taught at very young ages to be little caretakers. They look at their moms, their friends' moms, & other important women in their lives who spend their lives caring for children. And they mimic their actions by doing the same things with their baby dolls & stuffed animals. I remember enjoying taking my baby dolls or stuffed animals out for stroller rides, feeding them pretend food, giving them baths or changing their diapers, & even pretending to nurse them. 😳 Boys are typically not taught these caretaking skills. So, it is much easier for outside adults to pick up on little autistic boys struggling with pretend play than it is for them to pick up on little autistic girls struggling with the same thing, who were taught these caretaking skills, like I was. This is one reason why more boys receive autism diagnoses than girls do & why boys tend to be diagnosed at younger ages than girls are. Because Barbie dolls aren’t the type of dolls that you play with by mothering, I just didn’t know how to engage in the type of pretend play that was required in order to play with them. In fact, I remember coming home from a friend’s house one day & proudly telling my mom that I successfully played with Barbies that afternoon. The reason why this made me so happy was because of how difficult playing with Barbies was for me. I didn’t enjoy playing with Barbies that day, but I still remember thinking that since I am a girl without a lot of friends, I wanted the friends I did have to like me & to have fun playing with me. I didn’t (& I still don’t) have an open mind about the kinds of activities I engage in, but I made a conscious decision that day to expand my boundaries in an effort to be fun for my friend to play with. Barbie, The Movie 🎥:
Today is my one year anniversary of me finding out I'm autistic (I can't believe it!), so in celebration of that, here are some things I've learned over the past year:
I have to begin this post by saying that I am so lucky, being someone who has felt so loved & so supported, particularly by my family & close friends, throughout the entirety of my autism diagnosis journey & beyond. I know that many, many people who receive diagnoses as adults, or even as children, are not as lucky as I am & are forced to find their footing in this neurotypical world on their own. Going off of that, a couple of days ago, my best friend texted me an article about the rise of neurodiversity at work. Interestingly, several weeks before, my cousin had emailed me a different article on the same topic, that was included in her work's most recent newsletter. Both articles were very similar, making very similar points about employers being more accepting of autistic & neurodiverse employees now, more than ever. The articles even made statements regarding how in certain aspects, neurodiverse employees add more value to a company than neurotypical employees do. However, when I read articles like these, what I'm seeing is that while we're definitely in a much better place now than we were before, significant changes still need to be made in the workplace & beyond. I had an interesting conversation via text with my best friend I'd like to share with you & that's what today's topic is about. Let's Step Away From The Technology, Mathematical, & Science Industries For A Moment: When you think autism, you generally think Dr. Sheldon Cooper in The Big Bang Theory or Dr. Shaun Murphy in The Good Doctor. I mean, this autistic stereotype is clearly illustrated within their characters, after all. Both articles that were sent to me mentioned this stereotype. My view on this is that articles written about this add to our already existent stereotype, rather than combatting it, which is what we really need. For example, the article my cousin sent me stated that, "Employers have begun to realize that individuals with autism are assets to the company, especially in the engineering and technology industry, where skills such as attention to detail, extended focusing, and mathematical concepts are in demand." On the other hand, the article that my best friend sent me mentioned that some industries, like tech & finance are moving faster than others when in comes to neuroinclusion. While I think that's great, what I'm more interested in are the other industries. Personally, I am someone who would not thrive in any of the stereotypical autistic industries. While I thrived in algebra & statistics while I was in school, I am not a technical- or a mathematical-oriented person. To be totally honest, I inputted numbers into formulas to get the answers because my teacher or professor told me to, but I never understood why I was doing that. And I was never required to remember the formulas I learned because having notecards for tests was an accommodation I had in both high school & college. Autistic people can also be extremely creative, be talented writers, & be great with animals. I can tell you that this is where my personal talents lie. Several industries autistic people tend to thrive in are journalism, animal science, pet grooming, animal care, filmmaking, videography, animation, photography, & graphic design. In elementary school & middle school, I spent my free time writing poetry. In high school & college, graphic design was my hobby. Even though I didn't write poetry as often when I was older, I often still used it to express my feelings. We don't hear about the link between these particular industries & autism often... or at all. What I'm interested in is how THESE industries & other industries outside of the technology, mathematical, & science fields are embracing autistic people & becoming more inclusive. Where These Autistic Stereotypes Came From:
I believe that these autistic stereotypes were created because there are so many undiagnosed autistic females. The technology, mathematical, & science industries are all male-dominated fields. So, of course if undiagnosed autistic females work in other fields, people are unaware of autism's presence outside of the tech bubble! A great illustration of this occurred shortly after I had a conversation with my physician about the fact that I am likely autistic. In my quest to learn more about autism & about myself, I purchased the book, I Think I Might Be Autistic: A Guide to Autism Spectrum Disorder Diagnosis and Self-Discovery for Adults. When I finished reading it, I gave it to my dad to read. After my dad read the autistic traits section of that book, he told me he knows many people who are like the type of person Cynthia Kim is describing. My dad was an engineer for over twenty-five years, so I'm sure that many of his former colleagues are autistic. Engineering is one of the fields that fits that autistic stereotype. Also, after everything I have learned about autism over the past year, I believe that my dad is autistic himself. Where This Leads Us: While it's great that more & more organizations are willing to talk about & accept autism & neurodiversity, there clearly is significant work that still needs to be done. It is time for all industries to be more inclusive & welcoming; but I am most interested in what the industries outside of the technology, mathematical, & science fields are doing to achieve this. When I first disclosed my autism to my family, friends, & some former teachers; I received the following email response from one of my mom's cousins: Kim, I’ve read and re-read your email. I was super impressed with you when you came to take care of your gung-gung and am even more impressed now. I am fascinated by your story and the extent you are taking to understand your past, present so that you can move forward. I can tell that it has been monumental for you to put a name to explain all of the struggles you have had. I’m happy for you and if you spent any amount of time blaming yourself (like we all have a tendency to do). You now know, it wasn’t you. While I was disheartened to learn the extent of what you’ve been going through, it was equally troubling to learn that your delayed diagnosis was primarily due to your gender. Another example of how these stereotypes can do real harm. But you are not focused on that, you’re focused on moving forward. Everything in your email points to that. Again, so much respect for you. Thank you for putting so much care into this message. Thank you for including me. If I have said anything that does not strike the right tone, let me know. I am processing and want to learn. What my mom's cousin is referring to in the line that I made bold, is the trip I made to my grandparents' home in California in the fall of 2019, about three & a half years ago. My grandma, who I called Haw-Bu, was recovering from having part of her tongue surgically removed due to a malignant tumor & because I had so much flexibility in my schedule, I planned to stay with my grandparents for two weeks to help out during my Haw-Bu's recovery. However, my Haw-Bu ended up having numerous complications due to the surgery & needed to stay in a rehabilitation facility to gain her strength back before she could safely live at home. So, I ended up extending my stay by another week & stayed for three weeks instead of two. Also, rather than helping out both of my grandparents, I became my grandpa's primary caregiver during that timeframe. I was responsible for the usual caregiving & household responsibilities as well has driving my grandpa, or my Gung-Gung as I call him, to & from the rehabilitation facility everyday so that he could visit my Haw-Bu. My Gung-Gung survived a major stroke several years earlier that severely disabled him, so he couldn't live in his house alone. I had turned twenty-nine just before making this trip. That is a lot of responsibility for any person, but it's especially a lot for a young person, particularly one who had so many different mental health challenges & now I know autism, as well. Let's talk about how autism, diagnosed or not, affected my caregiving responsibilities:
Social & Communication Deficits
Excessive Adherence To Routines & Resistance To Change
Interests That Are Abnormal In Intensity & Focus
Hyper-Reactivity To Some Sensory Input
Prosopagnosia
Topographic Agnosia
Grief is something that is certainly not fun to talk about, but it's part of life, & there were a couple difficult events involving my grandfather (he is doing okay!) that happened within the past few days that has me thinking about it more than usual. Just to give you a reference point, the five stages of grief are:
Those who are close to me know how incredibly important my maternal grandfather, who I lovingly call Gung-Gung, is to me. Ever since I was a little girl, he & I have had the most incredible, special bond. I love that man so, so, SO much. Back in January 2015, while on a cruise in Mexico, he had a major & devastating stroke. As a result, he acquired a condition known as global aphasia, which means that he no longer has the ability to communicate using language. So, he can no longer read, write, speak, or understand language of any kind. He also lost feeling on the entire right side of his body. Transition & Change:
Now, remember that grief doesn't only occur when someone dies. It also occurs when any major negative change happens in someone's life. For example, people may grieve when going through a divorce or heartbreak or if a close family member or friend moves away. I have been in the denial stage of grief for eight years & four months now (since that very day in January 2015 that the stroke occurred). Yes, as horrible as that is (it's even more terrible seeing it in writing than it has been thinking it in my head all of these years), that's the complete & honest truth. A Side-Note About Therapy: I had been seeing a therapist at the time that the stroke occurred. And I did tell my therapist how much I was struggling with my Gung-Gung's stroke, but I don't think she understood to what extent. I stopped going to therapy in the fall of that year, when I had to change to a different insurance plan that my therapist didn't accept. I haven't tried therapy again since, because my experience in therapy was that it either was extraordinarily harmful & detrimental to my mental health (the exact opposite thing that therapy is supposed to accomplish) or that it didn't make any difference at all, good OR bad. I had been through a plethora of therapists, all who, believe it or not, I wanted to strangle, before I found my last therapist who I really loved. Going through so many different therapists before finding the right one was incredibly emotionally & physically exhausting & draining & going through that multi-year process again, especially when I don't see the benefit in it is just not something I feel I have the energy or the drive for. I'll get more into my experience with therapy on another day. Now that I know I'm autistic, struggling this much with my Gung-Gung's stroke more than eight years later makes complete sense. Autistic people thrive on routine. However, transition & change are extremely difficult for us. That has to be why I'm still in the denial stage of grief this many years later. I just want my Gung-Gung to go back to being the person he was before his stroke. I mean, I know my mom wishes that too, but she has long accepted that this is her new reality, while I'm still denying that. Special Interests Particularly in autistic girls & women, special interests can be people or characters in novels or in movies. If an autistic person's special interest is a person, not only is the autistic person is going to be incredibly loyal to that person, but rejection will be particularly devastating, whether the person of interest is a friend, a romantic interest, etc. I didn't realize it until very recently, after I began learning more & more about how autism presents itself in girls & in women, but my Gung-Gung is one of my special interests. For me, this means that his presence & his mere existence in the world, & in my life takes precedence over everything else. The changes that occurred in him due to the severity of his stroke completely crushed me. And once he eventually passes away, that will shatter my entire world. The following statements are all true about my Gung-Gung:
When my grandma passed away a couple years ago, broken heart syndrome became one of my special interests. Unfortunately, I never had a relationship with my grandma, so I didn't grieve when she died. The hardest part about losing my grandma was thinking that her death would be what would kill my Gung-Gung, who I love so much. (My grandparents had an incredible love story.) I learned that the risk of a man dying of a broken heart goes down dramatically at the three-month mark, so once we hit three months, I felt an instant wave of relief. My aunt & uncle were visiting this past December & I had a heart-to-heart conversation with my aunt one night during that visit. My aunt brought up that when my Gung-Gung eventually does pass away, it really won't be that devastating because of how much he's changed since his stroke. I absolutely did not agree with her because the finality of death is so terrifying to me. Never feeling his arm around my shoulders; being able to hold his hand; or seeing my puppy, Ollie kiss him all over his face, bringing him so much joy & laughter is just not acceptable to me. It would absolutely devastate me & break my heart & wouldn't bring me any relief whatsoever. What my aunt expressed to me is how the average neurotypical person would feel, given the situation. But, what I'm expressing here is how one autistic woman feels, given that same situation. Being Literal-Minded Autistic people are literal-minded. Now, with that being said, I personally don't believe in God, in Heaven, or in any kind of afterlife. So, as morbid as that is to believe, I believe that when someone you love passes away, you'll never see that person ever again. The idea of God, Heaven, & an afterlife are just so abstract, foreign, & unbelievable in my mind that until I've actually seen proof that those things exist, I'm not going to believe in it. I know that those beliefs bring comfort to many people & I wish it did to me as well, but it just doesn't make sense in my literal mind. I know my Gung-Gung believes in Heaven & he wants to go up there to be with my grandma, the love of his life, again, but because I don't believe in it myself, I don't have the comfort he does. In fact, the idea of that actually makes me sick to my stomach. I am also someone who believes that the two things that should never be talked about are politics & religion, unless you know for sure that whoever you're talking to has the same beliefs as you. Because of the role my beliefs play in my fear of death, I thought this was important to mention, but at the same time, I want you to know that I completely understand & respect your beliefs, whatever they may be. So, I tried my very best to make this section as short & as to the point as possible. Fear Of The Unknown Autistic people like to know what to expect. In my thirty-something years of life, I have lost two grandparents & two pet bunnies. (Luckily, I have not lost any other loved ones.) I didn't grieve when either of my two late grandparents passed away. I believe that when my Gung-Gung passes, it will be the first time I would have ever grieved. And from what I know about myself & about my relationship with my Gung-Gung, I'm very worried about my ability to handle that grief. I hope that this post gave you valuable insight as to what grieving might feel like as an autistic woman. Now, if you're allistic, or non-autistic, you might think that receiving an autism diagnosis, especially as an adult, would be quite crushing. Let me tell you, it's not. In fact, it's quite the opposite. At the end of my evaluation, when my evaluating psychiatrist told me that I am in fact, autistic, the instant wave of relief that I experienced was absolutely incredible & was like nothing I have ever experienced before in my life. What would've been crushing is if I went through this whole thing & I did not receive this diagnosis. Because then, I would've been like, "Now what?!" Receiving an autism diagnosis isn't like receiving other medical diagnoses. Let's take cancer for example. You thought you were a perfectly healthy thirty-something-year-old, but now they've found a malignant tumor. I'm sure if I were in that situation, that would absolutely shatter me to the core. There's nothing about an autistic person that changes when they receive a diagnosis. This is something that that person has had since birth. It's just that now, there's finally a name that can explain all of the lifelong struggles that this person has had.
I knew since mid-June, when my doctor first brought this up & I first began reading about autism spectrum disorder & what it looks like in girls, in women, & in adults, that I am autistic. Reading those articles & that literature was like reading descriptions of myself. Receiving this diagnosis was only confirming what I already knew about myself for all of these months. I will never forget the afternoon of October 20, 2022 because I was so elated to finally know for sure why I struggled for so long, why my childhood was so difficult. Why I'm having so much trouble achieving the things I should be able to achieve as an adult, but can't. Getting this diagnosis was the answer to a plethora of medical & social difficulties I've had from my early childhood into adulthood & that is a good thing. During a birthday celebration that my family threw for my grandfather this past winter, one of my mom's cousins told me that I looked much more confident than the last time she saw me, slightly less than a year ago. The last time she saw me, I didn't know I was autistic. I've never been a confident person, so I certainly didn't feel confident. But, now when I think about it, I think what my mom's cousin could've seen is the relief that just a few months prior to that party, I was finally able to understand myself on a much deeper level than was ever possible at any other point in my life. The sadness that comes along with autism is caused by the fact that I've had so many struggles throughout my life. Now I know that autism has caused all of these struggles, but I've never known a life without autism. It just took over thirty years for me to know that autism was the reason for all of the challenges in my life. Is Autism Really More Common In Males?: Statistically, boys are four times more likely to be autistic than girls, but because we know so much more about autism now than ever before, we are now questioning if it is actually more common in boys or if it is just more commonly diagnosed in boys. Since it was historically believed that autism was more prevalent in boys than in girls, scientists & doctors have focused their autism research on boys. Because of this, the diagnostic criteria for autism is modeled around male behavior. What we didn't know until very recently is that autism can look very differently in girls. Since autistic girls often have different traits that do not match the diagnostic criteria for autism, traits are easier to miss & are mistaken for other things, like shyness & social anxiety, which are much more socially acceptable in girls than in boys. Girls are also more likely to mask their autistic traits & may mimic appropriate social behaviors by copying behaviors that they see in everyday life & on tv in order to fit in. For example, many girls & women force themselves to maintain eye contact by looking in between someone's eyes rather than into them if eye contact makes them uncomfortable. (I do this until a certain level of comfort with a person is reached, which is when eye contact becomes comfortable & natural for me.) Masking is something that is much less common for boys & men to do. Girls are also often diagnosed with depression &/or anxiety, conditions that frequently coincide with autism, rather than with autism spectrum disorder itself. Because scientists & doctors just began learning about how autism presents itself differently in females within the past decade, many women in their twenties & older have just now been receiving the autism diagnoses that they deserve. Many of these late-diagnosed autistic women never presented stereotypical male autistic traits. These women tended to be evaluated for & diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder after having significant problems with things in their adult lives such as treatment-resistant mental health issues, employment, friendships, romantic relationships & more (all things I struggle with). Other women were diagnosed after their child(ren) was/were diagnosed & they recognized some of the same traits in themselves. I truly believe that the reason I was not diagnosed during childhood is because of my gender. What Does Autism Look Like In Females?:
Social Deficits
Pretend Play One of the most common traits of both male & female autism is not knowing how to participate in pretend play. However, it is more likely that this struggle will be noticed in boys because girls tend to be taught from a very young age to be little caretakers, taking care of a baby doll or a stuffed animal. Because boys tend to be not taught this, struggling with pretend play is much more obvious in males. However, I only knew how to play with baby dolls & stuffed animals. When my little cousin asked me to use her plastic horses & farm animals to engage in pretend play with her, that was a struggle for me. I would often ask my little three-year-old cousin what to say or do. My aunt bringing out a craft project for me to help my cousin with brought great relief! Special Interests One of the most common symptoms of both male & female autism is having a special interest. However, male special interests tend to be very specialized & technical, where female special interests tend to be more "normal." For females, the level of intensity of the interest is what is abnormal. Because of this, it can be harder to notice the difference between a "normal" interest & a special interest. Common special interests in females are:
Wheels Many autistic children have a fascination with spinning wheels that are on a toy truck or train, for example. However, because toy vehicles tend to be boy-specific toys & I was a very feminine girl, I didn't own any toys that had wheels other than a child-sized stroller I used to push my baby dolls & stuffed animals around in the neighborhood. Miscellaneous
What Is "Light It Up Blue"?: "Light It Up Blue" is a campaign to promote autism awareness. People are encouraged to wear blue clothing & to post on social media using the hashtag #LightItUpBlue to raise awareness. Additionally; landmarks around the world; such as Niagara Falls, the United Nations, the Empire State Building, the White House, & state government buildings; glow blue in support of the cause. This all sounds great, right? Not so much. Why We Shouldn't "Light It Up Blue" This April:
I have had mental health challenges all my life & quite truthfully, I cannot remember a time where this wasn't an issue. A very difficult transition to college caused my symptoms to get out of control, so that's when I tried to find a medication to help me feel better. I frustratingly wasn't able to find anything that gave me relief even by the time I was in my thirties. At my appointment with my physician in mid-June 2022, she suggested getting evaluated for autism spectrum disorder. Between trying an impressive number of medications, none of which made any difference, along with other traits my physician had noticed over time, she thought it was likely that I was on the spectrum. When my physician asked me if I met my early childhood milestones on time, if I was ever diagnosed with a learning disability, & if I experienced bullying in school, all of my answers were in line with someone on the spectrum. My physician then went onto explain that so much more is known about autism now than when I was growing up. The stereotypical autistic traits are male traits, but autism can look very different in females. Sometimes undiagnosed autism in females can look like treatment-resistant depression & anxiety (something I have struggled with for many years). When there's a condition such as autism that could also be causing depression & anxiety symptoms, sometimes medications don't work like they're supposed to. I then had an aha moment & was so thankful to have such an observant physician. I am certain that my mental health challenges coexist with autism spectrum disorder, especially since these mental health challenges do run in my family, but I learned so much that day about the cause of my lifelong difficulties. I spent the summer of 2022 educating myself about autism. I read several books about how it presents itself in girls, in women, & in adults & I connected to what was in these books on so many levels. I felt like these books were written about me because they were descriptions of me throughout my life thus far, from my early childhood all the way to what I currently experience, in adulthood.
On October 20, 2022; I received confirmation of what I already knew about myself: I am autistic! More specifically, I have level 2 autism out of three levels total. The instant wave of relief I experienced that day when the evaluating psychiatrist told me that I am on the autism spectrum was absolutely incredible & was like nothing I had ever experienced before in my life. Welcome & happy first day of Autism Acceptance Month! As I sit here writing my first ever blog post, I find myself reflecting on how much my life has changed over this past year. More precisely, exactly one year ago today, I had absolutely no idea I was on the autism spectrum. (!!) It feels a bit strange typing that out. The Meaning Behind Splashed With Water 💦
During my autism evaluation, my mom described washing my hair when I was a little girl as being very difficult. Ever since I can remember, it was extremely painful if even a single droplet of water were to get into my eyes, nose, or ears. Especially my eyes. Due to my fear of putting my head under the water in the shower, my dad continued washing my hair in the kitchen sink long after I should have been able to do it myself. It was embarrassing, but washing my hair myself in the shower was physically impossible. My mom tried to teach me to just close my eyes & to keep a towel outside the shower to wipe my eyes if needed. But, doing it that way was impossible due to the amount of discomfort that a single droplet of water would cause. Whenever we talked about this, it tended to turn into an argument & all the muscles in my body would tense up. That is how intense the anxiety over the simple act of washing my hair in the shower was. Eventually, I came up with the genius idea that if I covered my eyes with a washcloth when I put my head under the water, I would be able to wash my hair like any other person could. As I grew up, I didn't outgrow my extreme aversion to water & this technique is something I still use today, well into my thirties. My mom was surprised to learn that I still do this, as I was talking about it during my autism evaluation. If I didn't literally shield the shower water from my face, I wouldn't be able to wash my hair in the shower even to this day. The name Splashed With Water is poking at a sensory sensitivity caused by autism that was undiagnosed for over thirty years. This is just one example of a plethora of lifelong difficulties that began to make so much sense with an autism diagnosis. Receiving this diagnosis has given me a huge sense of relief because I now have a much deeper understanding of myself & I know why I have struggled for so long without any answers. |
AuthorHello! My name is Kim, I didn't know I was autistic until I was in my thirties, & this is my story. Categories
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