Internalized ableism is something that most, if not all, disabled, chronically ill, & neurodivergent people have experienced. But, first of all... What IS Ableism? Ableism is the discrimination of & the social prejudice against people with disabilities based on the belief that "typical abilities" are superior. Examples Of Ableist Comments About Autism & Autistic People:
Sadly, several of the above comments are said to me on a consistent basis. A few of them many, many years before I even knew I was autistic. And I have no choice but to take it. Hearing those things hurts. It really, really hurts. Examples Of Ableist Quotes By Temple Grandin, The "Face" Of Autism:
Now that we know what ableism is...
What IS Internalized Ableism? Internalized ableism is when people with disabilities absorb & believe the negative stereotypes & prejudices society holds about them. Examples Of Internalized Ableism For Autistic People:
ALL except for three of the above statements are true for me, in my experience of growing up autistic, & BEING AUTISTIC. This is one reason why it is so important to be kind & to not use ableist language. Your words really, truly matter. A LOT.
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Throughout this blog, I have briefly mentioned how harmful ABA therapy is to autistic people, but I haven't gone into a whole lot of detail regarding what ABA therapy actually is & WHY it's such a problem. So, I'd like to take a moment right now to talk about that. Now, I'm gonna be upfront with you by telling you that I'm absolutely no ABA expert & I've had to do a lot of research in order to have enough content to write about in this blog post. What IS ABA Therapy? ABA stands for "applied behavior analysis" & simply put, it is a behavioral therapy specifically designed for autistic children. The History Of ABA Therapy: The Lovaas Method, later known as Applied Behavior Analysis, was developed by a man named Dr. Ole’ Ivar Lovaas in the 1960s. The premise was to use behaviorism to "treat" autistic individuals. ABA therapy focuses purely on behaviors with a goal to make the autistic child "indistinguishable from peers." When Dr. Ole’ Ivar Lovaas was practicing ABA therapy, he used rewards for desirable behaviors, as well as abusive punishments (including electric shock) for undesirable behaviors. The Problems With ABA Therapy:
There is SO MUCH controversy regarding ABA therapy in the autism community. While the majority of autistic individuals passionately dislike every aspect of this type of therapy & speak out against it; their parents, their teachers, & their medical professionals often disagree; calling it a miracle that "cured" their child of her or his autism or made significant improvements to their child's autism. Well, that simply isn't the case at all. And this is why.
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:
One of the last things I learned about when I became aware that I am, in fact, autistic, are the problems autistic people have with self-care. Now, I can tell you that in some ways, being as germaphobic as I am is a real blessing because that is why many of these self-care tasks actually get completed. If I wasn't so finicky about cleanliness, being a hygienic person would be much more of a problem for me. All my adult life, I have had to complete self-care tasks in a certain way in order for them to get done at all, or in order for them to get done in a timely manner, depending on what the task is. I know that if you are an allistic, or a non-autistic person, you are probably wondering what exactly makes self-care so difficult. This is why.
Let's take a moment now to talk about various self-care tasks.
Showering 🚿 Steps Involved:
That is over SIXTY steps (because some of these steps are actually two or three steps) that need to be completed in order to take a shower every night. Doing that EVERY single NIGHT is EXHAUSTING. I take a shower immediately after dinner every single night in order to ensure that my shower is completed in a timely fashion. If I didn't do that autistic inertia would get in my way. I don't use a hair dryer, so I like to shower several hours before going to bed. I don't use a hair dryer because:
The other night, my mom came knocking on the door after I had already taken my clothes off because she had taken her glasses off & couldn't remember where she put them. And she couldn't see to find them. She wanted ME to find them for her of course. I told her I couldn't because I had already taken my clothes off in preparation for my shower. Putting my clothes back on after I had taken them off just wasn't possible due to my executive functioning difficulties & autistic inertia. Asking a neurotypical person to do this might annoy her or him, but for an autistic person like myself, putting my clothes back on after I had taken them off would make it so my shower take many more hours to get completed. And following the routine of getting my shower done by a certain time is EXTREMELY important to me. If I wasn't so germaphobic, my shower might not get done at all with such an interruption, but I have certain rules that I follow. They are:
If my dad hadn't been home & able to find my mom's glasses for her, I know this would've turned into an ugly fight. The entire mindset of not being able to put clothes back on after taking them off is a foreign concept for neurotypical people & is one of the many things that make living in a neurotypical world so stressful & so frustrating. Especially when those people just tell me I'm strange & they don't take the time to understand the way I live or WHY I do the things I do. By the way, my mom's glasses ended up being in her bathrobe pocket, a location I would've NEVER looked in, even if I HAD tried to find them. Childhood Difficulties: Growing up, my dad continued to wash my hair in the kitchen sink until a very old age because I just couldn't tolerate doing it on my own. My mom told the neuropsychiatrist who evaluated me for autism that washing my hair when I was a child was incredibly difficult because I would scream if even one droplet of water made it into my eye. Eventually, my parents forced me to wash my own hair in the shower & that was so, so, SO HARD. And it caused so many fights & so many meltdowns. Putting my head under the shower water felt no different than as if someone was pouring rubbing alcohol over my head. And then it seeped under my eyelashes & into my eyes despite the fact my eyes were squeezed shut. No joke. As time went on, I came up with the coping mechanism of using a face cloth to shield my face from the water & that is something I still use to this day. This is why I decided to call my blog Splashed With Water. I talk more about it in my first blog post, if you would like to go back & read it. Rather than boring you, by giving you the step-by-step breakdown of the rest of the self-care tasks, I'll just talk briefly about the following: Dressing 👚 I have to get dressed the second I wake up because with autistic inertia, it will get to be two o'clock in the afternoon & I'll STILL be in my pajamas. Brushing Teeth 🪥 Until I was in middle school or high school, I used a children's strawberry-flavored toothpaste. My mom forced me to change to a normal "adult" toothpaste at some point around the teenage years. Because it's what normal people use. Until I got more used to it, the minty flavor made it feel like my mouth was literally on fire. 🔥 And I just had to live with it. When I was talking about this during my autism evaluation, my evaluating neuropsychiatrist asked me why I couldn't use a non-mint flavored toothpaste. My response? My mom told me I had to use mint because that's what EVERYONE uses, that's what "normal" people use. I always felt like I was abnormal & needed to force myself to be "normal" in order to be accepted. And my efforts didn't work because I STILL wasn't accepted. I still can't use mouthwash, even though my dentist recommends it because the mint is too strong & it burns my mouth. Mint is a flavor that autistic people tend to be way oversensitive to. Now it all makes sense to me, but my mom still makes fun of me because I adamantly dislike mint-flavored anything, including ice cream & chocolate. How could someone dislike certain flavors of ice cream & chocolate? 🤷🏻♀️ Using The Toilet 🚽 Due to autistic inertia & executive functioning difficulties, I have great difficulty getting up to use the toilet if I'm not already in the standing position, so if I happen to be in the standing position, I literally act like it's a bathroom emergency when it isn't because I know that if I didn't do that, I'm not going to use the bathroom until I take a shower that night, many hours later. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but it's absolutely true. When I was a child, I wouldn't flush the toilet after using it because I was completely terrified of the sound it made. I also wouldn't use the bathroom if my mom happened to be doing laundry at that time. The spontaneous & LOUD sound that the washer & dryer made would scare the living daylights out of me! I am typically reminded several times a week that I am autistic. What I mean by that is things are constantly happening in my life that I know wouldn't happen if I was allistic, or if I wasn't autistic. When these things happen to me, I tend to say in my head, "[This particular thing] happened because I'm autistic." & then I feel all sad & mopey on the inside. I really wish it wasn't this way because it's part of what makes being autistic feel so disabling. But, I blog about my life. And this is the type of thing I deal with every day. This my real life that I'm sharing with you, so here we go. This is the story of how purchasing a new winter coat reminded me that I am in fact, autistic. All winter long, the threads in my winter coat have been repeatedly breaking, leaving large gaping holes behind. Rather than continuously repairing the damage, I decided that it was time for a new coat. This coat is very old, anyway. The best time to purchase a winter coat is at the end of the season, when everything is on clearance, so now is the PERFECT time for a new one. The task of purchasing a new coat that I will wear almost daily for almost half the year is overwhelming to say the least, especially for an autistic person such as myself. These are the three main reasons why:
The Return Process:
This is where it gets really complicated. I purchased these two coats from Walmart's online marketplace. So, it wasn't actually Walmart who I bought the coats from, but I could return it there. I kept the deep purple coat in my car for about a week & a half, so that I wouldn't have to remember about it on the day I actually needed it. Walmart is a close drive for me, but one of my dog walking clients lives less than two miles from Walmart, so I wanted to return this coat on a day that I didn't have to go anywhere after walking this particular client's dog. It took twelve days before I had time to go to Walmart after walking this client's dog. My entire life is based around doing things in the most efficient manner, so that whatever I do outside of my home takes up the least amount of time possible. Because of my depleted energy levels, as well as my executive function difficulties, doing all my errands on a single day when I'm already in the area for another reason (such as visiting a client's dog or cat) is what works best for me. Anyway, after parking my car, I took the deep purple coat (still in the bag it was shipped in), into Walmart & found the customer service desk. The older woman who helped me was incredibly grouchy. Right away, she complained about the size of the coat (what winter coat isn't large?!) & to be completely honest, I was pretty intimidated & frightened by her. I showed her the barcode on my phone that was connected to the coat I wanted to return & she scanned it. But, I was really confused because she kept making comments about how the coat I was returning wasn't red. I never purchased or received any red coats, so I had no idea what she was talking about. I was scared of her though, so I just let her do her thing & I didn't speak up. She printed out a receipt with the coat's tracking number on it & the amount that I would be refunded. I looked the receipt over as I was walking away because I never trust that people are doing their jobs correctly. I was glad that I checked because the refund she issued me was for the incorrect amount. The coat I was returning was $5 more than the coat I was keeping. And the refund I received was for the coat that was at home! I went back to the customer service counter to ask her about it & she told me that the coat I gave her wasn't red. It was then that I realized why she had been talking about a red coat. 💡 The packing slip inside the shipping bag said that I purchased a red coat & a purple coat. Red wasn't even a color option for the coat I had purchased. I was SO confused by this! ⁉️ I had never even looked at the packing slip because I received exactly what I ordered. The woman returned the purple coat (which was at home) because the coat I gave her wasn't red. When I showed her the picture of the coat on my phone with the price I paid for it, she yelled at me & told me I should've shown her that from the very beginning. I thought I did though because I showed her the barcode, which she scanned & I would think that the barcode would tell the customer service person which coat I was returning & how much to refund. ⁉️⁉️ The only reason I didn't question the customer service woman originally was because I was intimidated & scared. I have lived my entire life having to endure pervasive mistreatment from everyone around me & I am quite certain that it has caused post-traumatic stress disorder, something that more than 40% of autistic individuals struggle with. The reason I didn't speak up was because I was simply autistic & afraid. In the end, a much kinder & younger woman (who was also working behind the customer service desk) called the seller I had purchased the coats from to get the remaining $5 refunded. Going to the store to return something is such a simple task, but being autistic turned it into such a big headache. And it was all because the person helping me wasn't kind. This is something that could've been avoided completely if the person helping me had exhibited kindness & had not been so intimidating. This is the type of thing that I deal with on a daily basis because I am living with autism. For those of you who are also autistic, I hope this story helps you feel less alone. And for those of you who are allistic, I hope this story helps illustrate how difficult it is to be an autistic woman living in a neurotypical world. 💙 The saying, "Everyone's Irish on Saint Patrick's Day!" is something I've never understood. 🍀 Like many American households, every year on March 17th, my family has corned beef & cabbage for dinner. A dish my mom has forced me to eat on this particular day ever since I was a little girl that I can barely manage to stomach. Corned beef is pretty terrible itself, but the cabbage is even worse because I can't eat it without feeling sick. Autistic people tend to be finicky eaters, often being overly sensitive to the textures & the flavors of the food they eat. This has been an uphill battle that I have been fighting my whole life. I had a disagreement with my mom about my feelings regarding corned beef & cabbage last year. "Why do we have to eat corned beef & cabbage on Saint Patrick's Day if we're NOT Irish?" I said to her. "But, we ARE Irish because everyone is Irish on Saint Patrick's Day!" my mom exclaimed. "If everyone is Irish on Saint Patrick's Day, then how come everyone isn't Asian on the Lunar New Year?" I asked, truly curious. I love the Lunar New Year because it means eating delicious dumplings & noodles, celebrating my Chinese heritage, & dressing my dog up in a fancy silk Chinese jacket. "Because being Asian isn't fun. If you're not Irish on Saint Patrick's Day, you're not American." my mom said to me. I knew my mom was right because most people don't think being Asian is fun. We're discriminated against, too. "Well, then I guess I'm not American," I said glumly. I was hurt by this because I've always been proud to be an American. But, how does being American require me to be Irish on Saint Patrick's Day if I'm not Irish? I'm autistic, which means I am literal & I just don't understand how someone can be Irish on one particular day of the year if (s)he isn't actually Irish. 🤷🏻♀️ When you think of Saint Patrick's Day, you probably think of glittered shamrocks 🍀, green beer 🍻, green rivers, leprechauns, &, of course, corned beef & cabbage. Well, what if I told you that if you were actually in Ireland on Saint Patrick's Day 🇮🇪, you wouldn't see ANY of those things, except for maybe the glittered shamrocks? Yes, this is absolutely true. To begin, leprechauns are not cute, jolly, friendly cereal box characters that we all imagine that they are. But, they are mischievous, nasty little fellows that Irish people do not want partaking in their Saint Patrick's Day festivities. And just as much as the Irish would not pollute their beer or their rivers with green dye, they would not eat corned beef & cabbage, especially on Saint Patrick’s Day.
The History Of Corned Beef & Cabbage: In Ireland 🇮🇪, cows 🐮 have always been a symbol of wealth & were considered a sacred animal. In fact, from early on in Irish history, cattle were not used for their meat, but they were used for milk & dairy production & farming. Because they were so sacred & expensive, cows were only killed for their meat if they were too old to work or to produce milk. So, beef is not part of the diet for the majority of the Irish population & is typically only enjoyed by the very wealthy during a celebration or festival. In both historic & in modern Ireland, pigs are the most prevalent animal bred only to be eaten, so pork is the most eaten meat in Ireland. When the Irish immigrated to the United States, they often faced discrimination & lived in slums with the Jews & the Italians. In contrast to in Ireland, beef was inexpensive in the United States. When the Irish immigrants first tasted corned beef at Jewish delis, they noticed its similarity to Irish bacon. They paired it with cabbage for its cost efficiency. So, eating corned beef & cabbage is NOT an Irish tradition. It is an Irish immigrant tradition that was created right here, in America when Irish immigrants substituted beef for pork & cabbage for potatoes because of its affordability. Some Fun Saint Patrick's Day Facts:
Side Note: Until I sat down to write this blog post, I didn't know any of the above facts with the exception of the corned beef & cabbage one. For YEARS, I have tried to convince my mom to forgo the dreadful corned beef & cabbage meal because it isn't actually an Irish tradition, but sadly, it has never worked. 🤷🏻♀️ So, whether you're Irish on Saint Patrick's Day or you're Irish the whole year through, Happy Saint Patrick's Day! And if you're NOT Irish on Saint Patrick's Day or on any other day of the year, I feel your pain. 💚 With today being the Lunar New Year (the year of the dragon!), I just wanted spend this blog post telling you about Asian culture & autism. My mom's side of the family is of Chinese descent & while I definitely have had an American upbringing, Asian culture has had great influence over the way I was raised. In the Asian culture, you are taught from a very young age that all of your personal difficulties are to remain inside of the home. In fact, if you were to be open about your challenges in public, you would likely be thought of as a disgrace. Unfortunately, the majority of Asian Americans still have this mindset to this day. One of the times my mom taught me about this was when she talked to me about hiding the bottles of antidepressants that I was taking before my grandparents arrived for a visit (particularly because of my grandpa's background in pharmacology) in order to prevent questioning & criticism. Moments like these are probably why I have always been more comfortable confiding in my dad than my mom, both as a child & as an adult. I have always felt like the fact that I have had lifelong mental health difficulties, & now autism, is something to be ashamed of because in the Asian culture it is. Another example of this occurred many, many years ago when my grandparents took my mom & my aunt on a tour of China. I remember my mom telling me that everyone wanted to take pictures with a person in their tour group who was using crutches. The reason why? If you're using crutches or a wheelchair in China, you generally don't leave your home. So, that's not something you ever see out on public streets. Asian Americans love to pride themselves in (& even brag about) which colleges & universities they got into & their SAT scores & then later on, how successful their careers are. I remember my grandma telling me about a time in school when she cried (something I have never seen her do EVER) because she got a 98 on a test. I can't picture myself ever crying over a 98. In Asia, when students don't do well on a test, even if it was the entire class that didn't do well, it is never the teacher's fault. It is never because the teacher didn't teach the material well enough or the test was written poorly, for example. It is always because the student didn't study hard enough. When a child has a disability that makes achieving the types of academic & professional successes that Asian people strive for much more difficult, such as autism, it poses a very significant problem for the child & her or his family. Asian Americans don't have any issues asking for help when it comes to furthering their child's academics or career, but when it comes to autism, they tend to refuse help & then the child is left to suffer alone, in silence. When children are diagnosed with autism in China, they are often sent to costly private treatment centers for ABA therapy. However, while this type of therapy is the most common type of therapy for autistic children, it is an extremely traumatic type of conversion "therapy" that essentially teaches autistic children to act in ways that make allistic, or non-autistic people more comfortable. Children who have received this type of therapy often develop post traumatic stress disorder by the time they reach adulthood.
Sadly, autism is still a relatively new condition in the Asian community, with China first recognizing it as a neurological disability as recently as 2006. In fact, many Asians have heard about autistic non-Asians, but they've never encountered an autistic Asian before. This is because less than one percent of autistic Asians have been evaluated for autism, let alone are receiving support for it. The thought that ninety-nine percent of autistic Asians are undiagnosed is quite staggering. Asians are likely not diagnosed with autism because they are afraid of being a disappointment, something I felt that I was until shortly before my thirty-second birthday, when I learned that I was autistic. 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...
Happy Halloween! Well, maybe it's a Happy Halloween to you, but it's not for me. I've never liked this haunting holiday. So, there. I've come out & said it. I don't like Halloween! Now, having said that, if you're a Halloween-loving person, that's no biggie. In fact, one of my closest friends has a Halloween birthday & I just love her excitement around this frightful day. But, for me, Halloween just isn't my day. And that's okay, too. This Is Why:
I don't dislike everything about Halloween, so this is what I do like about the holiday:
Halloween Challenges For Autistic People:
How You Can Help:
Today is a big day for me because it marks my one year anniversary of my autism evaluation & me getting the validation I waited precisely four months & four days for (I can't believe it!), so in celebration of that, here are some things I've learned about myself over the past year, four months, & four days:
Looking Back On Six Months Of Blog Posts!
April's Blog Topics:
I had a very interesting conversation with my dad about why I've never been successful in the workplace that I'd like to tell you about. I had been sitting at the coffee table, filling out paperwork about my disabilities all afternoon & the last question stumped me: Use this space to write any additional information about why you cannot work. I had put SO much information on all of the other pages of that form explaining why I cannot work that I simply felt like I didn't have anything else to add unless I repeated myself. So, I asked my dad, "Why do you think I cannot work? I want to see if you have any other ideas that I haven't thought of already." My dad has a better understanding of me than most people do because we're so similar to each other. He took a moment to think & then said, "My impression of it is that it's because you can't handle criticism. And because of that, you work ineffectively, which then causes you to get fired." I had never thought of it that way before, but what my dad said was absolutely true. I can't handle criticism. Before we go any further though, I'd like to clarify something. It isn't that I CAN'T work because truthfully, depending on the specifics of the particular job, I CAN work. What I can't do is work for someone else, in the traditional sense. If it's a job where someone is supervising me, that's the problem. Interactions with supervisors are the biggest issue for me in the workplace. While I had never thought of it like how my dad summed it up before, supervisors criticize, whether they're doing it now or they're going to do it in the future. That's what makes me shutdown around them. Interacting with someone who is either actively criticizing me or will criticize me at some point in time causes my brain to completely shutdown. This makes it impossible for me to function, as terrible as that sounds. Total comfort & feeling like I'm not going to be criticized or judged is key in order for me to not shut down. Shutting down at work just doesn't work, supervisors don't know how to interact with me in a way that doesn't cause me to shutdown, & that's why I can't work. This blog post is about what you need to know before criticizing an autistic person, although chances are, if you're reading this, you have already done it at some point in your life. I'm gonna throw in some info about how it feels to be criticized as an autistic woman, too. Why We're So Sensitive To Criticism: Bad Experiences With Criticism: Bullying & being left out are forms of criticism. Every autistic person you talk to will have something to tell you about experiences with those two things. The teasing, the mocking, the name-calling, the fact that no one wanted to be our friend, & MORE. Both bullying & leaving us out does real harm that affects us, autistic adults, many years later. It still affects me today more than I would like to admit. The bullying I endured when I was seven all the way through my early twenties did real harm & it still haunts me to this day. As a fresh college graduate & as an adult, I was constantly criticized by my parents, as well as by other caring family members. I personally believe that Asian & Jewish families expect more from their children than all other ethnicities do. Think about the number of Asian & Jewish doctors & scientists that are out there! Because I have a Chinese mother & a Jewish father, my parents unknowingly set unrealistic expectations for me from a very young age. Once my college graduation was upon me, I quickly discovered that I couldn't live up to those expectations, but I didn't understand why. Being constantly asked if I was happy with my life (I wasn't & I'm still not) & if I worry about what will happen to me when my parents die (I did & I still do) hurt immensely. Not only that, I had no explanation & no understanding of why I couldn't get to the place I needed to be in order to meet their expectations. Living almost thirty-two years of my life feeling like I was a disappointment to my family was extraordinarily difficult. It was even more difficult that I wasn't only disappointing my family, but I was also disappointing myself because I had the same expectations of myself that my parents had of me. I certainly don't blame my parents for any of this because I know that if they had known that I was autistic all this time, those expectations wouldn't have been put on me like they were. However, feeling like I was always falling short & I was never good enough put such a damaging amount of pressure on me for so long that it still affects me to this day to the point where sometimes I forget that their expectations of me have changed since my autism diagnosis. The Criticism Is Constant: I remember being constantly criticized for my behavior ever since I was a young child. Many other autistics have had the same experiences as I have had with this. "Look at me while I'm talking!" "Why do you have that grimace on your face?" "Why are you smiling? That's not funny!" "You shouldn't have said that. You should've said this." "Your face looks funny. Are you okay?" All of the above things have been said to me numerous times throughout my life. Unfortunately, an autism diagnosis hasn't stopped these types of criticisms from happening. My behavior & every move I make have been criticized so much that I simply can't handle any more of it. We're Stressed:
Us autistic people live very high-stress lives. Things that seem so minuscule to you really stress us out. We're sensitive to a lot of things like light, noise, our physical environment, & emotions. For example, I remember a time where my mom insisted that I attend a neighborhood Christmas party. I really didn't want to go because I was expecting to watch Christmas movies in my pajamas that night & now I had to be dressed & socialize with other people. I wouldn't have had such a problem with this party if it wasn't for the fact that it came on suddenly & I had no time to mentally prepare for the fact that I had to attend this party that night. I was in college at the time, so I was definitely old enough to stay home. It just wasn't okay with my mom. The sudden change in plans caused me stress & displeasure & when I expressed that to my parents, I was criticized for how antisocial I was being. This resulted in a complete meltdown. I felt like no one cared about me that night because no one stopped to listen to my thoughts or feelings. When I eventually made it to the party, I ended up standing like a statue against a wall for the few hours we were there because the criticism I received just prior to arriving at the party made it so that I didn't have the emotional capacity to socialize with anyone. We Have Low Self-Esteem: Many autistic people, myself included, suffer from low self-esteem. This is often the result of external factors, like bullying & being left out when we were younger (discussed in more detail above↑). When we have low perceptions of ourselves, it makes us more sensitive to criticism. Low self-esteem also makes us unable to understand or interpret criticism. Even when criticism is communicated with the best of intentions, ALL criticism can make us extremely anxious, which has long-lasting effects on us, crushing our self-esteem even more. Every single time I'm criticized, I feel like I can't do anything right. In fact, I feel like that regardless of whether or not I'm criticized. I know that this is because of how much I have been criticized during the course of my life. Many other autistic people feel this way, too. Our Feelings Are Often Dismissed: I have gone through my entire life feeling like my feelings don't matter. I have always felt like when I speak up, my thoughts & feelings are brushed to the side. I've been talked over & ignored more times than I can count. This not only makes us extra sensitive to criticism, but it makes us think we're being criticized when we're not being criticized at all. What Is Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria?: Although not a clinical diagnosis, rejection sensitive dysphoria, or RSD, is when perceived rejection or failure causes so much intense emotional pain that it becomes very difficult for a person to cope with his or her feelings. Autism & RSD: Many autistic people struggle with RSD & I certainly believe I am one of them. However, this isn't an issue for every autistic person. Increased rejection & punishment for not meeting neurotypical standards puts autistic people at higher risk for experiencing RSD. Also, since autistic people often have different sensory & perceptual experiences than allistic, or non-autistic people, they often experience more intense emotions. Autistic people with strong emotional sensitivity tend to experience social & interpersonal rejection stronger than allistic people, which can increase rejection sensitivity. Complications Of RSD For Autistic People: While most people do not enjoy being rejected or criticized (I mean, who would?), RSD goes beyond simply disliking rejection. RSD is so intensely emotional & can even be physically painful. The desire to avoid this unbearable pain & discomfort often leads to increased masking behaviors, which puts the autistic person at higher risk for burnout. Additionally, RSD can trigger mental health issues in autistic people including anxiety, depression, & eating disorders. So, before you criticize an autistic person, remember that while no one likes to be criticized, criticism is often much, MUCH harder for us to take than it is for the allistic population to take. And if your criticism causes us to shut down or to act unconventionally, please treat us with love, care, & understanding. It's what we need most of all. 💙 I love taking care of my grandpa, who I call Gung-Gung. I really, really love it. I wouldn't trade this precious time I'm getting with him for the world. But, caregiving is HARD work & it's even HARDER work for an autistic person, like myself. Let me tell you why. My Gung-Gung has to get a blood test once a month & it's my responsibility to take him. It's an important responsibility, but it also gives me precious time with him. I love that one Thursday a month. This past Thursday was Blood Test Thursday. Going With The Flow: When I arrived at my Gung-Gung's apartment complex last week, I was surprised to find that the visitor parking had completely disappeared. Autistic people, like myself, like to be prepared & don't like surprises, like this one. Not that anyone would like a surprise like this. It's just more of a problem for autistic people. My mom had recently told me that a notice went out that they were reducing the visitor parking & there were now only going to be three visitor parking spaces. (There used to be roughly double that.) But, signs that read Resident Parking Only were posted in equal intervals, in front of the old visitor parking spaces. That included one of the spaces that was supposedly still a visitor parking space. So, I opted to park on the street. I really don't like doing that, since it takes longer to get inside the building. Plus, getting the car to bring to my Gung-Gung who's waiting for me when I need to drive him somewhere takes longer. I don't want him to yell at me for taking too long, which does happen sometimes. When I asked my mom about the parking situation later on that night, she didn't know what I was talking about & said that that sign wasn't there yesterday. 🤷🏻♀️ Also, walking into my Gung-Gung's apartment, whether I'm there for scheduled caregiving duties or I'm there for a surprise visit, gives me heightened anxiety. I never know what I'm going to be walking into. This gives my mom, an allistic, or a non-autistic person anxiety, as well. But, for me, my anxiety about this is on a whole other level. Autistic people need to know what to expect; they don't like surprises. I personally feel like I need time to prepare for whatever situation is about to happen, but not knowing what I'm walking into doesn't allow me to do that. The following questions usually run through my head:
Anyways, we took the elevator downstairs, I ran to get the car as quickly as I could, & off to the blood test we went. The medical building we go for the blood test is right next door to my Gung-Gung's apartment complex, but due to his age & his physical abilities, it is still too far for him to walk. So, I drive. Putting Someone Else's Needs & Wants Ahead Of My Own: I had this idea in my head that I wanted my Gung-Gung to sit outside with me after his blood test. It was an absolutely gorgeous day & now that we are sadly into the month of September, these perfect days are getting to be more limited. I am someone who needs a lot of sunshine in order to function, so I take a vitamin D3 prescription year round. Plus, I shine a happy light on my face for about ten minutes before getting out of bed in the morning during the late-summer through the mid-spring months. Like many people living in this part of the country, I believe I struggle with seasonal affective disorder, although it’s never been diagnosed. Anyways, once my Gung-Gung's blood test was over, I told him that it was a beautiful day & asked him if he wanted to sit with me by the gazebo across the street before going back to his apartment. It's good for him to get fresh air, something he can’t do without accompaniment. It's much easier to convince him to sit outside if he's already outside rather than if he's inside his apartment. Plus, I was giving up time that I would normally be spending out on the back deck in the sun to take care of him. Much to my disappointment, especially since I knew it would likely be much colder when it is time for his October blood test, he didn't want to go to the gazebo. He told me he just wanted to go back to his apartment afterwards. Knowing that he would make a scene if I tried to convince him otherwise, I knew I had to take a step back & let him take the wheel. This is something that's difficult for anyone in the caregiver position, but it is even more difficult for an autistic person. However, he obviously changed his mind between the time we had this conversation & the time we left the medical building. When we left the building, he started heading straight for the gazebo even though I told him I would drive him there. We sat on a park bench in the gazebo park for a short while, side by side, him tapping his hand on my leg to a beat & me with my arm around his shoulders. This right here was my old Gung-Gung. This was what we did together ever since I was a young child, way before he had his devastating stroke. Although, I only started putting my arm around him when I got big enough to do that. 😉 These glimpses of my old Gung-Gung overwhelm me with so much warmth & happiness that it is hard for me to properly convey how I feel. I've always felt so safe, secure, protected, loved, & cared about when his arms were around me. While I still feel some of those same things today, despite him being disabled & me being all grown up, I feel so blessed to now be doing the same thing to him. Giving him the safety, the security, the protection, the love, & the care that he always gave me while also doing something that is good for him. Getting him some fresh air & sunshine. On another note, I wrote more about how being an autistic caregiver affects me in blog posts entitled My Experiences Being A Caregiver With Undiagnosed Autism & Strengths & Weaknesses Of Caregiving With Autism, if you'd like to read those prior blog posts. The Grief We Deal With:
When my Gung-Gung decided that it was time for us to go inside, we went in a nearby door & up the elevator to get to the enclosed bridge that leads to the building that he lives in. This walk is a little far for my Gung-Gung & his favorite sitting spot is on this bridge. So, this is where he likes to take a walking break. You get a perfect view of the nursing home associated with his apartment complex from this bridge. This nursing home was where my grandma, who I called Haw-Bu, passed away. So, he feels a closeness to her when he sits there & looks at the nursing home. He & I sat in two chairs by a window with a view of the nursing home & almost immediately, he was gesturing & asking why did she have to die before him. Why did she have to leave him here on Earth? He then bursted into tears & was sobbing for the love of his life of over sixty years. It's probably been over a year since I've seen him cry like this for his wife. I came around behind the chair he was sitting in & wrapped my arms around him in a loving & a comforting embrace until he was able to collect himself. Once he let me know he was okay, I sat back down in my chair again & wrote in big letters on my whiteboard Kim♥ Gung-Gung. When I showed it to him, he smiled at me with love in his eyes. I mostly communicate with him through simple, written language now, along with some gesturing. Because his stroke caused him to acquire a condition known as global aphasia, he no longer has the ability to communicate using language. So, he can no longer read, write, speak, or understand language, with the exception of simple phrases written on a whiteboard. It is easier for him to understand third-person language rather than first-person language. So, this was why I chose to use my first name rather than a pronoun when talking about myself. Is There Something Wrong With Me?: In times like this, I wonder if there is something wrong with me. When my Haw-Bu passed away, I never grieved. I never even shed a single tear. In fact, all of the sadness I experienced after her passing was caused by my Gung-Gung's sadness & grief. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have experienced any sadness at all. How is it possible that she was my grandma & I don't miss her? There have even been times where I have wondered what it was about my Haw-Bu that my Gung-Gung was attracted to. What did he love about her? Don't get me wrong, I'm so glad for their absolutely incredible love story, for without their love story, I wouldn't exist. But, I could never relate to my Haw-Bu & many of the interactions I had with her were beyond frustrating, leaving me feeling flustered & misunderstood. I spoke at my Haw-Bu's celebration of life that my family held after her passing, but I had a lot of trouble writing the words I was going to say to my family & to my grandparents' friends. Much of the reason I spoke had to do with the fact that my brother & my cousins were speaking, so I felt like I needed to speak also. I was my Haw-Bu's oldest grandchild, as well as her only granddaughter, after all. But, how do you speak about someone who you were supposed to have had a relationship with, but didn't? I feel so guilty that I feel this way. In the end, though, my speech did make it sound like my Haw-Bu & I had a very close relationship. Many of her friends came up to me afterwards & made comments about how great it was that I had such a close relationship with my Haw-Bu. I felt like I had just lied to almost everyone in that room though, which was crushing. One thing that differentiated my celebration of life speech from the speeches of my Haw-Bu's daughters & grandsons was my speech didn't mention cooking or food. At all. My Haw-Bu loved cooking & the way she showed love was by feeding you. Food wasn't my love language. In fact, the amount of time she spent in the kitchen & the fact that she was always trying to feed me was quite annoying. This was particularly frustrating because most of the time she tried to feed me, I didn't feel like eating & forcing myself to eat to make her happy was terribly painful. I eat food because I need to in order to continue to be alive. I don't eat food because I enjoy eating it, especially because I almost never have a good appetite. I know that this isn't how most people think about food. I've always felt that if my Haw-Bu had spent a lot less time in the kitchen during visits, I would've been able to have a relationship with her. For one of my brother's birthdays when he was younger, he asked our Haw-Bu to cook him & some of his friends a Chinese feast. I wouldn't have ever dreamed of doing such a thing because I always wished she would spend quality time with me, outside of the kitchen. I wanted this from the time I was young child until she passed away & I never got it. I wrote more about how grief affects me & other autistic people in my prior blog post entitled Autism & Grief, if you'd like to read that prior blog post. Conclusion: All in all, this past Thursday was a good day. Everything went almost perfectly. I was impressed by the number of people who walked past my Gung-Gung & me sitting on the bridge who said hello to him using his name. That meant all of those people know his name even though his language abilities are very limited. (I usually spend most of my time inside my Gung-Gung's apartment when I visit.) One of the things that made my Haw-Bu hesitant about moving here was that no one here would've known my Gung-Gung before he had his stroke. But, in a building like this, he's getting much more social interaction than he ever got in his stand alone house in California. In fact, I even explained that Gung-Gung means maternal grandfather in Chinese to one of my Gung-Gung's friends who walked by. This particular friend saw the whiteboard that was lying in my lap that read Kim♥ Gung-Gung & asked me what a Gung-Gung was. As my eighth grade school year neared its end, there was so much excitement & chatter among my classmates about high school. High school. Now those were two words I never wanted to hear. If you had asked me about anything having to do with high school that year, one of two things would have happened:
Throughout my life, each transition that I've experienced was harder than the one before. Now, I know why. Autism. We're known for having a tough time with change. Middle school wasn't a time that I would ever want to relive (I mean, who would?), but high school? Now that was terrifying. Eighth grade was the first time I ever had a male main subject teacher. My science & homeroom teacher, Gil, really took a liking to me. He gave me special treatment & gave me privileges that no one else in the class was allowed to have. He even intervened in situations where I didn't think it was necessary. He simply wanted to be there to take care of me. Being someone who didn't (& still doesn't) trust men, I considered myself pretty lucky to have had Gil be my first experience with a male teacher. He's retired now, but I've been able to reach out to him a few times since my college graduation to thank him for being so good to me. Anyway, Gil knew that I was nervous about going to high school, so he met my parents, my grandparents, & me one day over spring break to give us a personal tour. He used to work at the high school, so he knew it pretty well. My town was growing so fast, that the eighth grade needed to be moved to the high school for several years because there was no longer room for it in the middle school. By the time I entered eighth grade though, the grade had moved back to where it was supposed to be. I'm not sure how much that tour helped my transition to high school because just the idea of going to high school was SO upsetting. I knew I had no other choice because staying in eighth grade forever & skipping high school weren't viable options either. Having that love, care, & extra time from a teacher who could've been spending his spring break doing so many other things meant so much to my family & me. My First Day Of High School: Now, this is something I hate to admit, but on the first day of high school, as I was walking to the bus stop, there were big, ugly, fat tears that wouldn't stop forming. Like many parents, ever since I started school, my mom has always taken a picture of me on the first day. I couldn't pull myself together enough to take a picture that morning, so my mom took a picture of me after school instead. To this day, when I look at that picture, all I see is a sad, scared girl hidden behind the smile on her face. See below↓. On that particular morning, my next-door neighbor was looking out her front door at me walking to the bus stop, full of excitement for me. My neighbor was someone I have been very close to ever since I was a toddler, but I couldn't manage to turn to look at her for even a brief second because my face was so streaked with tears. Luckily, my mom could be my voice that morning, providing an explanation for my strange behavior which was completely embarrassing. What Exactly Was SO Terrifying?: There were three main things that were upsetting about going to high school.
I know that this is a very vulnerable & heartbreaking post, especially for those who know me personally. Please know that everything written in this post was written with my heart & soul & is absolutely true. School is very, very difficult for us autistics & my experiences are illustrations of why this may be. September 2nd, as well as the several days following it have been hard days for me ever since I can remember. The reason why? My birthday is over. It feels weird & inappropriate typing that out because what thirty-something-year-old still loves her birthday as much as she loved it when she was a child? 🙋🏻♀️ That would be me. This Is The Main Reason Why: My life is so isolating. Most of the time, I feel like I'm a fly on the wall. The whole world is going by & I'm just sitting there watching from a distance. I blame autism for my isolation. I have vivid memories of my maternal grandfather, my Gung-Gung, saying to me when I was a preteen & a teenager, "You're so pretty. If you would just talk more, you would have so many friends," & then giving me a squeeze. I don't remember what my response to him was, but I knew that while I completely agreed with him, doing that wasn't possible. I couldn't talk more. In fact, whenever I did talk, it caused panic & anxiety because I felt like I couldn't say the right things & I had a tendency to stumble over my words. Also, if I was ever wrong about something, I felt like my whole world came crashing down & I wanted to hide under a rock & never come out. This is probably also why my dad has told me multiple times that I'm always right. I only speak when I'm 1,000% certain that I'm right. This is why I never, ever, ever, ever raised my hand in class when I was in school. And those are also the reasons why I had such a hard time making friends as a child. When I had friends over when I was growing up, I got a sense of relief when they went home because I could finally relax & I would no longer have to be so tense over keeping a conversation going. Now I know that the reason for these struggles was that I was unknowingly autistic. Throughout my entire life, I have always either had just one friend or no friends at all. Sometimes, there was a group of friends that I was a part of, but whenever that was the case, I was always on the outside, never really fitting in & only truly being friends with one girl in the group. If they were gonna leave someone out, it would always be me. My ability to make friends hasn't changed since. My birthday is the one day out of the whole entire year where everything is about me. It's the one day a year where I feel like people remember that I exist. I hear from people I haven't heard from in 365 days, since my last birthday. Once my birthday is over, once September 2nd arrives, all of that stops & I go back to being a fly on the wall & feeling like no one remembers I exist. I wish I could feel like people loved & cared about me on days other than September 1st. My birthday celebration with my family is tomorrow, so luckily, the celebrating isn't over just yet. The Birthday Blues:
Believe it or not, the birthday blues or birthday depression is a pretty common experience. It is not a diagnosable mental health condition, but many people experience sadness in the days leading up to their birthdays. People experience it for many reasons, including but not limited to fears about aging & dying, not having people to celebrate with, having expectations that are not met, having experienced a traumatic birthday in the past, & not being in the place in life where they think they should be. For me, I don't experience these feelings in the days leading up to my birthday, which is the definition of the birthday blues. It is the days following my birthday that are the issue. Besides the issue that I described above, every year, there is at least one person who forgets my birthday who should have remembered. I also have experienced sadness the past several years around the issue of not being in the place in life I think I should be. I now know that this due to unknowingly being autistic, so now that I know this about myself, I can take the steps that are necessary to move forward in my life. Autistic Birthday Experiences: Autistic people experience birthdays a lot differently than allistic, or non-autistic people do, so before ending this blog post, let's talk about how I experience my birthdays now & how I experienced them as a child. Being The Center Of Attention: I've never liked this. This is why I was always glad that my birthday was at the very beginning of the school year, before they started announcing birthdays over the intercom. I need to get to a certain level of comfort with someone before I'm comfortable being wished a happy birthday by that person, so I'm not someone who likes everyone knowing when my birthday is. This is also why I stopped having birthday parties at such a young age & wanted to have weekends away with my family instead. I never liked the amount of attention I got at birthday parties, especially because I was never confident that my reaction or facial expression were gonna be appropriate in every situation (& to be honest, they probably weren't). Singing Happy Birthday: I never knew what my face should be doing at this part of a birthday party. Does my face look okay? Is now an okay time to smile, should I have a straight face, or a totally different expression I haven't thought of? And who should I make eye contact with? I never knew & everyone was looking at me, the birthday girl, so now wasn't the time to screw this up! Opening Gifts: I never liked surprises because I never knew if I was reacting to them appropriately. In fact, I remember saying to my mom once, "Don't you ever throw me a surprise party!" And she never has. When I said that to her, I didn't think she ever would, but I just wanted to make sure. With gifts, if I knew what it was ahead of time, I could try to prepare myself. I've always had this fear of not being able to hide when I didn't like the gift I just opened, but I also had a fear of looking like I didn't like something when I really loved it. I've often had a hard time matching my facial expressions to the way I really feel. No child wants summer vacation to end & to go back to school. I mean, who wants that?! But, I also believe that the term, first day of school jitters, is much too mild to accurately describe my experiences & emotions. Everyone dreads when that day rolls around every year, but I have always felt that my anxiety about that day was many, many, MANY levels above everyone else's. The anxiety, the stomach aches, the panic, the nausea, the fear, the dizziness, & a plethora of other emotions & symptoms can really just be summed up into one word: trauma. Yes, school was a traumatic experience for me from start to finish & the trauma only got worse with age. Autism & Trauma: Every autistic person, no matter how old (s)he is has experienced trauma at some point in his or her life. No, it's not the type of trauma you're probably envisioning when I say that word. Being bullied on a daily basis & constantly being left out can certainly cause the same types of consequences on a person as going to war, witnessing someone get murdered, or having an abusive spouse would. It just takes a longer amount of time to do its damage. This is one of the reasons why it is crucial to diagnose autism as early on in the child's life as possible. So that you can do as much as you can to stop the trauma & the damage it will cause once the autistic child grows up. Academics Were Easy!: I wasn't your stereotypically gifted autistic child. In fact, I struggled with math until I got to middle school. But, the academics were STILL the easy part of school for me. It was every other thing that naturally came along with it that was so painfully difficult. There were two main reasons why: bullying & friendships. Bullying: Every autistic child & every autistic adult you talk to will have something to say about bullying in school. Many autistic adults will have things to say about bullying &/or mistreatment in the workplace, as well. This is what I remember about bullying:
The effects of the bullying is the reason why it takes me such a long time to trust someone even now, as an adult. I know that this is due to the trauma I experienced, which I explained above. I think that part of this is also probably because I never voiced the pain I was experiencing to my parents. I have always felt that I caused them extra worry & I didn't want to add to it even more. I also see police officers as adult bullies because almost every one of the boys who bullied me in high school were going to study criminal justice in college to become a police officer. That makes police officers absolutely terrifying. When I look at a police officer, I see a bully who wants to hurt me, not someone who will protect me. Friendships:
Miscellaneous Difficulties:
These are the reasons why I am so glad I am no longer in school. When I was at my neighbor Patty's house this past winter talking to her about my experiences growing up as an undiagnosed autistic child, one of the questions she asked me was, "How was school?" I could've gone on for hours telling her about the problems I had in school. This is the first of a series of blog posts that answer that very question. While this topic is a painful & vulnerable one, I have a lot to say about it, so it is a topic that I have been very excited to write about. During a phone conversation with a close family member this morning, I was asked about how my life is different now that my personality has been diagnosed. I was deeply hurt that I was asked this question. But, at the same time, I felt blessed. Out of everyone I have shared this diagnosis with, there has only been one person who has given me inappropriate reactions. From what I know about people who have come out as autistic, the more common response is for the majority of people to act like it's no big deal when they originally are told this information & then they proceed to treat you differently &/or shut you out of their life completely. "How Is Your Life Different Now That Your Personality Has Been Diagnosed?": My response was that my personality was not diagnosed because autism isn't my personality. It isn't anyone's personality because autism isn't a personality. I was then asked, "Well, if it's not your personality, then what is it?" "It's a disorder or a disability," I responded. I know many autistic individuals are going to disagree with my choice of words here. Depending on his or her own experiences, many people in the autism community believe that this is not true. Some people dislike that ASD stands for autism spectrum disorder because they don't think it's a disorder. Disorders imply that something is wrong, something needs to be corrected, &/or a cure is needed. Many autistic individuals don't believe that anything is wrong or that anything needs to be corrected, so there's nothing that needs to be fixed. I talk about this more in my blog post entitled I Desperately Want A Cure For Autism, But Most Autistics Disagree: This Is Why. I think autism is a disability because it has hindered my ability to get to where I want to be in life. What I Think My Life Would've Been Like If I Wasn't Autistic:
What Autism Is & Isn't:
Autism Is:
Autism Isn't:
What Personality Is & Isn't: Personality Is:
Personality Isn't:
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 🎥:
My mom & I took one of my dogs to my favorite Block Island beach today. This day was my ideal day. My perfect day. Sitting on the beach on a perfectly sunny, blue-sky day with my mom & my dog. My favorite alcoholic drink was in my hand. I could feel the warmth from the sun on my skin. This is summer. So, we try to get to this beach every year. The only thing that made it less than perfect was the traffic we were stuck in on our way there that made us nervous about missing the ferry. And my dog trying to scare the seagulls away. I mean, I don't like seagulls either (a seagull stole a hot dog right out of my hand many, MANY years ago), but trying to ignore them wasn't a possibility for my little Teddy. Going To The Beach Wasn't Easy When I Was Growing Up:
Walking on sand caused me to get motion sickness to the point where I actually had a lot of anxiety leading up to beach trips. I've always been intensely afraid of feeling dizzy. Still am. And walking on sand caused dizziness. Sometimes, it caused dizziness that was so bad, I couldn't stand up straight or I felt like I might fall over or collapse. The feeling of my feet sinking into the sand was never something I could tolerate. I was a hard surfaces only type of girl. This was a problem for me when I was a young child, but also when I was a teenager. Especially when I was a child, my family tended to go to the beach with other families. Mainly families of my younger brother's friends because sadly, I didn't have friends. Picture trying to keep up with boisterous young boys when you're trying to combat dizziness & everything that comes along with it. Luckily, the feeling subsided fairly quickly once we found our spot to set up on the beach. However, since my mom liked to scope out the BEST spot for us to set up, it sometimes required partially setting up somewhere & then moving to somewhere else, which was SO hard on me. I've always felt like due to my difficulties with motion, dizziness, & other sensory sensitivities, I unintentionally put a damper on my family's fun. Because of this, I'm pretty sure I never vocalized this fear to my parents. It would've caused even more anxiety, fear, & discomfort. I am so glad this is in the past & this is no longer something I need to deal with. I'm the type of person who could never live in the states in the center of this country because they don't have easy ocean access. I love the ocean too much! Happy Independence Day! Due to the holiday, we're gonna spend some time today talking about the difficulties that fireworks can pose on autistic individuals & their families. For many people, fireworks are magical & fascinating, filling up the night sky with mesmerizing colors & patterns. The perfect way to cap off a fun day full of patriotic festivities, whether spent at a picnic, a barbecue, the beach, or by the pool. However, this isn't the case for everyone. One of the groups of people fireworks can effect negatively are autistic individuals. My Personal Experiences With Fireworks: As a child, I didn't have the sensory sensitivities that autistic children stereotypically have. Because I was generally not bothered by most sounds or lights, fireworks didn't bother me the way that they typically bother many other autistic individuals. However, going to firework displays was still an incredibly traumatic experience for both me & my family. The reason for this was simply the time of day that fireworks happen. Obviously, fireworks happen at night, but due to the dizzy spells I endured from the time I was six years old until I was seventeen years old, I would almost always have one of those dizzy spells whenever we went to see fireworks. Dizzy spells were often triggered by tiredness, so they were much more likely to happen during nighttime activities than during daytime activities. This made nighttime activities, including something as simple as going out for dinner, very stressful for me & my family. I constantly felt like I was ruining my family's fun because of something I could not control. So, I often found myself trying to hide my dizzy spells for as long as I possibly could & being afraid of telling my parents that I could feel a dizzy spell coming on. If you would like to read more about my experiences with dizzy spells, I go into more detail about them in my previous blog posts about the coronavirus pandemic & about vestibular processing. As an adult, my after-dinner routine consists of taking a shower, getting in my pajamas, & then snuggling up with my two dogs for the rest of the night. In fact, most nights, I'm in my pajamas prior to 8:30pm. The idea of going out into a crowd of people, being eaten alive by mosquitos, being away from my dogs, & not being able to wash off the germs of the day until late at night sounds incredibly unappealing, in most situations, except if I was visiting family from out of town or vice versa or if I was at Disney World or someplace where the fireworks display was absolutely spectacular. Fireworks Are Fun!
Some autistic people really enjoy fireworks & being someone who finds fireworks enchanting & magical, I am one of them! What I don't like about fireworks is the fact that due to the time they happen, they are extremely disruptive to my nightly routine. Plus, it's so much hassle to get there & there is so much waiting involved for a display that is usually relatively short. But They Can Be Painfully Loud... And I really mean this. I am not an autistic person with auditory sensitivities, but to some autistic people, this can be incredibly overwhelming. Even though to you, the sound is far away in the night sky, your autistic loved one may be hearing it as if the fireworks are exploding in his or her own ears. ...And Painfully Bright! Yes, fireworks can actually hurt. All of the bright sparkles that make fireworks look so cool & awe-inspiring, as well as the strobe-like effects they create, can cause big problems for autistic people. Once I outgrew my childhood dizzy spells, which were often triggered by certain frequencies of lighting, I no longer had sensitivities to lights. Many autistic people hate bright lighting, making fireworks an overwhelming & difficult experience for them. Just like certain frequencies of lighting triggered my childhood dizzy spells (which likely were a migraine or a seizure variant), these same types of lighting can trigger seizures in autistic people, something many autistic people struggle with. While I've never heard of someone having a seizure due to an overload of fireworks, merely knowing the effect that certain types of lighting has on certain people can be very overwhelming & cause a lot of anxiety for them. The Crowds & The Music Are Loud, Too! Firework displays always include people & almost always include music. Loud voices & loud music can be just as hard on autistic ears as fireworks are. Also, because of our difficulties being able to read people's tones of voice, it can be hard for some autistic people to tell the difference between voices raised due to excitement from voices raised due to anger. This gives us a whole other level of anxiety that neurotypical people do not experience. Weather Sensitivities: Another consideration to take into account is the weather. Some autistic people cannot tolerate humidity. Others have sensitivities to water, so they would have issues if it's raining. Personally, I have an issue with raindrops touching my face, so I'm always shielding my face from rain! How You Can Help:
Traditionally, it was thought that autistic individuals were not interested in having sexual or romantic relationships. However, the reality is that this couldn't be further from the truth. My Personal Experiences: For me personally, I had always envisioned that I would have what my parents had: I would meet my future husband at a young age, I would get married in my early to mid-twenties, & I would start creating my family shortly after that. If things had gone how I had planned, I would have two or three children at this point in my life. As a very young child, I struggled with being able to relate to & connect with others. Back then, I didn't know what I know now: that this was why I didn't have friends. In fact, the majority of my friendships, particularly in my younger years, were forced on me by my mom. As I got older, my inability to relate to & connect with others also interfered with my romantic relationships, the longest one lasting just a couple short months. Both relationships ended for the exact same reason: physical intimacy was extremely uncomfortable for me. Eventually, I realized that my inability to form personal connections & relationships isn't something I would ever outgrow & it would haunt me for the rest of my life. While yes, I did come to this realization, does this mean I have accepted this reality? Absolutely not. As I'm quickly approaching my mid-thirties, my biological clock is ticking, which is absolutely terrifying. This is also the reason why whenever I hear of a couple who is newly engaged or who is expecting a baby, it causes intense sadness for me, rather than causing me to be happy for the couple, like I should be. Dating has always been extraordinarily challenging for me & now I know why: being an autistic individual, no matter how much you want love, can make the dating scene almost impossible to navigate. Autism & Sexual Orientation: On a different, but relatable note, as the month of June, otherwise known as Pride Month, comes to an end, I wanted to touch on the correlation between autism & the LGBTQIA+ community. Did you know that autistic people are more likely to identify as LGBTQIA+ than allistic, or non-autistic, people are? According to a 2021 study conducted by the Autism Research Centre at the University of Cambridge in the UK, autistic individuals are three to nine times less likely to be heterosexual than individuals in the allistic population. About 2,400 people ages sixteen to ninety, which included 1,183 autistic individuals, participated in this study. This research found that autistic men were more than three times more likely to identify as bisexual than their allistic counterparts would be. On the other hand, autistic women were slightly less than two & a half times more likely to identify as either bisexual or homosexual than their allistic counterparts would be. In regards to sexual activity, the research revealed that autistic individuals are less likely to be sexually active. More specifically, the research found that for every ten neurotypical adults who were sexually active, only four autistic adults could say the same. It was also found that autistic people were close to eight times more likely to identify as asexual than their allistic counterparts would be. Regardless of asexuality, this research also revealed that autistic women in particular had less sexual desire & less libido than allistic women did. What Is Asexuality?: The "A" in LGBTQIA+ stands for asexuality. An asexual person does not experience sexual attraction— they are not drawn to people sexually & they have no sexual desires. Unlike celibacy, which is the choice to abstain from sexual activity, asexuality is not a choice, but is an integral part of who we are that we are born with, just like other sexual orientations. Like autism, asexuality is a very diverse spectrum, meaning every asexual person has his or her own very specific needs & boundaries regarding relationships, attraction, arousal, physical intimacy, & more. Why Are Autistic People More Likely To Identify As LGBTQIA+?:
There isn't currently any firm scientific evidence as to why autistic people are more likely to identify as LGBTQIA+ than their allistic counterparts are. However, according to Cambridge researcher & doctoral scientist Elizabeth Weir, "One possibility is that people with autism may be less attached to social expectations & feel more free to express their true identity." Autism & Gender Identity: According to a 2020 study, also conducted by the Autism Research Centre at the University of Cambridge, transgender & gender-diverse adults are three to six times more likely to receive an autism diagnosis than their cisgender counterparts are. About 600,000 adults in the UK participated in this study. However, it is likely that many of these transgender & gender-diverse adults were undiagnosed as autistic during the time of the study. While about 1.1% of the UK population was estimated to be diagnosed as autistic during the time of the study, this study suggests that between 3.5 & 6.5% of transgender & gender-diverse adults in the UK are autistic. 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:
When I was in third grade, my mom got a job as a classroom aide at the elementary school I attended. And that's where she still works. Today, when she came home from work, my mom told us that one of the school busses was thirty minutes late this morning. One of the boys at her school told my mom that the reason why that bus was so late was because the children on the bus were so poorly behaved that the driver had to pull off the road to assign seats. Later on that day, my mom found out from one of the teachers she works with that there is also some bullying going on, on that same bus. The bullying had gotten so bad for a certain boy that his mom is afraid of sending him to school on the bus. Another boy does things to him, like pour his water from his water bottle onto this poor boy's head! I always try to link the things that happen in my everyday life to my experiences as an autistic woman. So, I wanted to take this as an opportunity to tell you about what it was like to ride the bus to school as an autistic student, long before I knew I was autistic. From the title of this blog post, you probably already know that I absolutely HATED riding the bus to school. Why I HATED Riding The Bus To School: I Was Afraid Of Getting On The Bus: When the bus pulled up to the bus stop, all the children ran to the bus because they wanted to get the BEST seat. The running children scared me. I have struggled with my gross motor abilities my entire life (this is a commonality among autistic people/children), so every day when it was time to get on the bus, I thought I was going to get trampled & injured from running children. I could feel a rush of adrenaline running through my body every time it was time to get on the bus. Being someone who has always avoided adrenaline-inducing activities, this felt absolutely terrible! I Usually Had No One To Sit With: This is a pretty self-explanatory reason, but when you're autistic, you tend to have trouble making & keeping friends. In the beginning of the school year, I would sometimes have a neighborhood girl to sit with, but as the year went on, that girl went on to make her own friends who she wanted to sit with on the bus. And where did that leave me? Alone of course. Not only was it embarrassing, but it made me so sad that no one wanted to be my friend. There Were Older Children On The Bus: There's a big difference between a first grader & a fifth grader. Whenever I was on the young end of whatever school I was in, I felt like being around older children was dangerous. I mean, I even felt like it was dangerous being around children my own age, so of course being around older children was even more frightening! One Of My Bus Drivers Was Scary: My middle school bus driver was crazy, mean, & scary! She often started driving before all the students were seated. Because of my gross motor difficulties, this was terrifying for me. She would also do things like yell at whoever had a dirty water bottle on the floor by his/her seat, being seemingly unaware that water bottles roll when the bus moves, so whoever she was yelling at likely wasn't responsible for leaving their dirty water bottle on the bus. It Was Loud: I didn't have noise sensitivities like the typical autistic student did, but I was a calm & quiet girl who preferred calm & quiet environments, rather than environments with excitable, yelling children. I Was Afraid Of Getting Off The Bus: Again, children moved much too quickly for my comfort level. Because of my gross motor difficulties, I have always had to take stairs slowly & cautiously. However, when it was time to get off the bus, I thought I was going to get trampled & injured from running children. I could feel adrenaline rushing through my body every time it was time to get off the bus. Having been an adrenaline-avoider my entire life, this felt absolutely terrible! I Was Afraid Of Missing The Bus: Again, because of my gross motor difficulties, it was hard for me to get to the bus at the end of the day quickly enough. This was particularly stressful in high school, when all of the busses were lined up at the front of the school simultaneously rather than being called over the loud speaker. There was never enough time for me to gather everything I needed in order to do my homework that night AND make it to the bus on time without stressing. If I were to miss the bus in high school, it would be particularly bad because it would mean that I would need to wait a whole extra hour & a half at the school in order for my mom to pick me up to go home, since she didn't get out of work until three o’clock & the high school was a twenty minute drive away. I don't think that ever happened, but the idea of it EVER happening terrified me. Just being in that school drained every ounce of energy I had that I couldn't wait to run away from the school building at the end of the day! (I'll tell you more about my experiences with school in a future blog post.) This is one of the many reasons why I was so relieved when I got my driver's license. Why I Never Struggled With Bullying On The School Bus:
I experienced very INTENSE bullying in school, but never had any problems with bullying while on the bus. The short reason why is simply because I always sat in the first few seats of the bus. The exact place where no one ever wants to sit on a school bus. If someone had ever hypothetically forced me to sit in the back of the bus, I would've been absolutely terrified because that's where the bullies sat. Even the kids who sat back there who were not bullies tended to be friends with them. The wild, loud, obnoxious athletes sat in the back of the bus. I generally didn't like athletes, unless they were runners, were part of the track team, or were tennis players. I wanted to do everything I could to stay away from bullies & everyone who associated themselves with them. Because I sat in the front of the bus, that was the only part of the day that bullies didn't bother me. They didn't go out of their way to bother the quiet, loner girl sitting in the front of the bus because she didn't want to be bothered by the bullies, among a plethora of other reasons. I was so glad about that. I sat in the front of the bus from when I was in kindergarten until I stopped taking the bus, when I was a high school sophomore. I Wished My Mom Drove Me To School! Within the past few months, I made a comment to my mom about how I hated riding the bus to school & I wished she drove me. I never understood why I had to take the bus to school. I assumed my mom had some very good reason for not driving me to school. Or that it was just too much trouble. I have always believed that I was too much trouble & caused too much worry. To my surprise, my mom never knew how much I hated riding the bus to school & she told me that she would've driven me if I had asked her to, particularly when I was in elementary school & I attended the same school she worked at. I wish I had known this twenty-five years ago. I have always been a meek person, as a child AND as an adult, both inside & outside of my family. I was really pushed by my special education teacher to advocate for myself when I was a junior & a senior in high school, in preparation for college, but speaking up for myself is & always had been difficult for me, particularly in my younger years. I know that is also likely why that despite all of the intense bullying that I endured, I never told anyone how painful it was, how much it bothered me. Issues I dealt with while I was in high school, & even while I was in middle school & while I was in elementary school are still affecting me well into my thirties. I'll share more about my experiences being a victim of such intense bullying in a future blog post. You probably know that the five senses are sight, hearing, touch, smell, & taste, but did you know that there are actually eight senses? The three hidden senses are: The Vestibular Sense: Vestibular receptors, located in our inner ears, help us process movement & balance. The vestibular system helps us to distinguish between speed & the direction of movement. Many autistic people are either vestibular under- or over-responders. People who are vestibular under-responders seek intense or prolonged vestibular stimulation & may enjoy frequent rocking, swinging, bouncing, jumping, or other activities involving intense movement. People who are vestibular over-responders may react negatively to a wide range of vestibular input. They are often prone to motion sickness & have anxiety during activities that involve movement through space, such as walking down the stairs. They also tend to struggle with body control & coordination. I am someone who struggles a great deal with vestibular sensitivities. This is why numerous times throughout this blog, I have referred to vestibular processing issues & anxiety around certain things causing dizziness. Because I keep referring to vestibular sensitivities, I thought it would be good to take a step back & actually explain what I mean by that. The Proprioception Sense: Proprioception receptors, located in our muscles & joints, provide information about where our bodies are in space. This system impacts our sense of body awareness & coordination. It also helps to create smooth movement. Many autistic people are either proprioception under- or over-responders. People who are proprioception under-responders struggle with knowing how much pressure to apply. They may break pencils or use too much pressure when shaking someone’s hand, for example. They may enjoy jumping, bumping, & crashing into people & objects. They tend to be unaware of safety & can be accident-prone. Children tend to prefer rough play & seem to be constantly wrestling with siblings or other children. They tend to stand too close to others & touch them without permission. And they may crave pressure & bear hugs. People who are proprioception over-responders may are easily overwhelmed by touch & movement. They tend to avoid physical contact, like hugs & other types of contact or pressure. They also tend to become anxious in crowded spaces or when standing close to others. Children who are proprioception over-responders tend to avoid physical play & appear timid around others. They also may dislike slides, swings, other playground equipment, & phys ed class in school. I also struggle with proprioception sensitivities, but because I am now an adult, these issues are much less bothersome now than they were when I was a child. The Interoception Sense: Interoception receptors, located on our internal organs, provide us with information about our internal body & emotional states. These receptors tell us when we're hungry, thirsty, hot, cold, in pain, or needing to use the bathroom. They also tell us if we're happy, sad, or anxious. People who are interoception under-responders may be unaware of pain & temperature signals, not know when they're hungry or thirsty, be unaware of the urge to eliminate until it is urgent, or have alexithymia, otherwise known as the inability to identify his or her own emotions. People who are interoception over-responders may always be hungry, thirsty, or having to use the bathroom. They also tend to experience more pain & pain lasts longer. It is common for over-responders to have frequent sicknesses because even the mildest of illnesses cause them to feel terrible. Stereotypical Sensory Sensitivities:
In movies & on tv, you'll notice that autistic characters are often very sensitive to light & sound. Because of this, they often wear sunglasses, noise-canceling headphones, or ear plugs to relieve themselves from intense sensory input. Autistic people also tend to be very sensitive to touch, where they can only tolerate clothing made from certain types of fabric & they cannot tolerate tags in their clothing or seams in their socks. It is also very common for autistic people to dislike being touched. Lastly, autistic people commonly dislike very strong flavors in the foods they eat. They tend to not like spicy, sour, or minty food. The beige food diet is common for autistic people. People who prefer this diet stick to eating only food that is beige in color, such as plain pasta, bread, & chicken nuggets. My Sensory Sensitivities: I don't experience this world as a stereotypical autistic person, in the sensory sense. Most sensory sensitivities that are common to autistic people are not issues for me. In fact, I was not aware of many of my sensory sensitivities being at all related to autism until I began learning more about autism, as I was pursuing a diagnosis. Until pretty recently, I thought that what I was experiencing were quirks in my likes, dislikes, & behavior. The sense that is definitely the most sensitive & bothersome for me is the vestibular sense. Sight: I do not have any visual sensitivities. Bright lights do not bother me, like they tend to bother the stereotypical autistic person. However, when I was growing up, certain frequencies of lighting would bother me because they caused dizzy spells, which you can read more about in my previous blog post about how the coronavirus pandemic turned me into a "normal" person. For example, the first time I ever successfully ate in a Rainforest Cafe, I was in my twenties. My dad & I were visiting family in Texas & we were in San Antonio for the day. We wanted to eat lunch along the River Walk & the restaurant everyone decided to eat at was the Rainforest Cafe. Something about the atmosphere in that restaurant caused dizzy spells because this was the first time I had ever eaten in that restaurant without getting sick. Because of my history with that restaurant, both my dad & I had anxiety about eating in there, but it was a success! I think it was probably the Rainforest Cafe's lighting that was the issue, but I don't know for sure. Also, while I don't have issues with bright lights, I do have issues with blinking or flashing lights & lights that are moving, particularly in circles. That is more of a vestibular issue though, which I'll discuss more below. Hearing: I do not have any auditory sensitivities. In fact, I really love listening to loud music! Touch: I do not have any of the stereotypical tactile sensitivities involving the clothing I wear. I can generally wear all fabrics of clothing & I am not bothered by tags or by the seams in my socks. I am sensitive to the sheets on my bed touching my feet though, so I have to sleep with socks on. However, as I mentioned in my first blog post, I am very sensitive to water touching me, particularly on my face & in my eyes. Because of that, I can't wash my face with soap in the sink. I have to use a washcloth instead. I also dislike the feeling of breezes. For example, I don't drive with the windows open & I actually point the vents away from the driver's seat in my car. I am also picky about who touches me & how I'm touched. I love experiencing physical affection from family & people I'm close with. However, hugging people that I do not have a certain level of established comfort with is uncomfortable. I also greatly prefer hugs over kisses & dislike romantic touch. I remember that on the first day of school when I was a sophomore in high school, my biology teacher put her hand on my shoulder as I was walking to my desk. I disliked that so much that I couldn't stop thinking about that for the whole rest of the year. If she had done that after I had an established relationship with her, I wouldn't have thought anything of it & it probably would've even made me feel good. But, because it was the first day of school & I didn't have a relationship with this teacher, it really bothered me. Smell: I do not have any olfactory sensitivities. Taste: The gustatory sense is the one sense where I am a stereotypical autistic person. I dislike strong flavors of food & I tend to stay away from spicy & sour food. If I'm eating in a restaurant & the waitress asks me if I would like a lemon in my water, I always decline it. In cases where I am not asked whether or not I would like a lemon & my water arrives with a lemon in the glass, I always take the lemon out. I also don't like mint, even in chocolate or in ice cream! I tolerate it in toothpaste though. Lastly, I really like my drinks cold (with A LOT of ice) & my food hot (temperature-wise). Vestibular: The vestibular sense is the sense that is by far the most sensitive & interferes with my daily living the most. In fact, that is why the graphic I chose to use for this blog post is supposed to resemble spinning. I am definitely a vestibular over-responder & I have a lot of fears that are all caused by this sensitivity. I listed many of these fears in my previous blog post about how the coronavirus pandemic turned me into a "normal" person. I could write a novel about everything that causes dizziness, so I tried to pick the things that stuck out the most in my mind. I know what I generally can & can't handle, so I either try to avoid certain things or I use coping mechanisms to deal with certain situations that most people would think nothing of. This is also why I don't know how to ride a bike. Embarrassing, but true. An example of a coping mechanism I use is how I deal with glass elevators, which really bother me. I have learned to find a screw or another stationary object inside the elevator to focus my eyes on until the elevator stops moving. An example of a situation that caused vestibular oversensitivity took place at a family wedding when I was in middle school. My mom's cousin's husband wanted to dance with me & took me to the dance floor. I remember really struggling with that dance because he didn't know to not spin me & I wasn't comfortable enough with him to tell him to stop. My grandpa, who I call Gung-Gung, took me to dance right afterwards & he didn't spin me because he knew how sensitive I was. The difference & the relief that I experienced when I danced with my Gung-Gung was phenomenal. Proprioception: I have significant proprioception sensitivities, but luckily, these things no longer affect my adult life. When I was a child, I felt unsafe on playground & climbing equipment if other children were also using it. I was also unable to engage in age-appropriate physical play with other children. Phys ed was traumatizing. In fact, what I remember about my elementary school phys ed teacher is that she scolded me for running away from a fast-moving soccer ball & she didn't scold my peers for laughing at me. I was truly terrified of that ball & I was only doing what I could do to protect myself. In high school, the transition between classes & the transition from class to the buses or the parking lot was terrifying because I thought I was going to get hurt from navigating down a staircase among a fast-moving stampede of teenagers. Interoception: I do not have significant issues with interoception, but I occasionally will experience alexithymia. I don't have any trouble identifying intense emotions, but I sometimes will have difficulty distinguishing between closely-related emotions or more neural emotions. |
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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