No two autistic people are alike, so I certainly can’t claim to speak for all of us, but one common theme that seems to come up in many of the adult autism Facebook groups that I participate in is our relative inability to make or maintain friendships. Many of us have felt ostracized our whole lives, in school, at work, and even within our own families. Many of us are lonely and feel isolated, even though we value and often require quite a bit of alone time. I’m well aware that that contradiction may be confusing to some.
Those of us on the autism spectrum only comprise 1 to 4 percent of the population, depending on whom you ask. Our disability can be invisible. And yet, even if we are highly successful at masking our autism in an attempt to fit in, people sense that there’s something off-putting about us, and if they can’t quite put their finger on what that thing is, it makes them even more uncomfortable. When is the last time you felt the urge to befriend someone who made you feel uncomfortable? I’ll be the first to admit that even I don’t have such an impulse, and I ought to know better.
Speaking for myself, my avoidance of eye contact and my fidgeting probably doesn’t help people warm up to me. Nor does the fact that when I’m interested in something, I tend to overshare, which bores people to tears. To say that I lack subtlety is putting it mildly. I ask more questions than people seem to want to answer, and I find it all but impossible to let go of something until I’ve gotten the answers that I feel I need. I’m not inflexible. I just need sufficient reasonable detail to see the point in changing my mind. If you ask for my opinion, you can count on the fact that I will give it to you, warts and all.
I find it very hard to lie to anyone that I have even the smallest bit of respect for. That’s another subject that often comes up in autism groups. We can’t understand why neurotypicals often think lies are more polite than the truth. That seems INSANE. If I see that I’m expected to lie, and if I’m in the rare frame of mind where I realize that a neurotypical will be shocked by the truth (even though they usually know it already), I’d rather say nothing at all than lie. And then I’m accused of being “too quiet”. How can you win in these situations?
Being around me requires patience, but I’d like to think I’m worth the effort. I may be tactless, but I always mean well. I have a strong sense of justice. I’m sincere. You will always know where you stand with me. You will always know how I feel. I have a gigantic heart and, contrary to many false stereotypes about autism, I’m deeply compassionate. I would never be intentionally cruel to someone or call them names unless I’m in the throes of a full blown autistic meltdown, but in those situations “I” am no longer present. Not that that’s an excuse. It’s just an explanation. That’s a subject for another blog post.
The bottom line is that if you’ve shown me that you’re a good person, I’ll be the most loyal person you’ve ever met.
I think that last bit is what gets me into trouble the most. If I think of you as a good person, then I’m deeply shocked and hurt if you then do something that’s a$$holish in nature. I mean, my hurt is on a level that neurotypical people don’t seem to be able to comprehend. I struggle to understand that that type of behavior is coming from you. It just doesn’t compute.
My level of loyalty is rare in neurotypicals, in my experience. My loyalty tends to be a gut reaction. If I’ve determined that you’re a good person, and then you do something that seems hateful, I’m not instantly angry. I don’t automatically think ill of you. Instead, I’m sent deep into the land of confusion. Good people don’t do this. Did I misunderstand the situation? Did I hear you correctly? Is there something else going on with you that I should be worried about? Because you’re a good person. Good people aren’t hateful. So, why are you doing this? What the hell is happening? That’s how my autistic brain works.
In contrast, no matter how much goodness neurotypicals have seen in me, they are quite capable of assuming the worst of me in the blink of an eye. If they misunderstand me, instead of first thinking, “Barb is a good person. Maybe I should get more detail before reacting,” they instead immediately draw the conclusion, and often don’t hesitate to tell me, that I am lying, manipulating, or trying to get attention. Or I’m being overly dramatic, annoyingly superior, have no right to feel differently than they do, or I’m being passive aggressive, irrational, or weak. Or worse yet, they accuse me of being childish, or acting like a victim for my own personal gain even if they know intellectually how autism works.
Autism or no autism, though, it confuses me that someone can believe any of the above is such a primary aspect of my character that they don’t even have to take the time to seek clarification. They are comfortable enough to instantly go to the anger place instead. If they are so convinced that the negative conclusion that they have drawn about me is accurate, how can they pretend to like or love me? Why would they even bother, if they think that that, that, is what’s at my moral core? Because I know that I’d find someone like that deplorable. But there I go, thinking autistically again.
And mind you, most of the time in these situations I’ve just said something with no agenda whatsoever, without a neurotypical’s added subtext, innuendo, or implications, because I lack that skill. Often, what I was trying to say was much different than the way they translated it. I have never quite mastered the overly complex neurotypical language. That leaves me standing in the face of someone’s irritation, frustration, anger, rage, rejection or aggression feeling confused and hurt. And then, for some reason, that reaction on my part is interpreted as some sort of artifice as well. So I can’t win. It feels like being lost in a field of nettles with no civilization in sight. No matter where I try to go it is going to be painful.
Is there no point in a friendship where you can count on being given the benefit of the doubt? Being shocked and trying to get to the bottom of things when a good person behaves badly, and explaining my hurt and asking the why of the behavior is my way of giving that benefit to others. But maybe I shouldn’t give people that benefit, because it rarely seems to be given to me.
For the life of me, I’ll never understand why, if someone doesn’t relate to or truly understand what I’m saying, their gut instinct would be that I am therefore completely wrong in the head to the point of deserving anger, and, as I’ve actually been told, in need of life skills. Reacting that way to me is not only offensive, but it’s dismissive and rude. It sends the message that you have no interest in understanding what I think, or why I think it, whether you agree with it or not. I get that a lot from people, and the intensity of the conclusions they draw often leads me to believe that they’ve been stuffing their opinion of me for quite some time, and it has finally come to a head.
It would never occur to me that someone has no right to their feelings and should be fixed, and it definitely would never occur to me that I am just the enlightened being to give them the tools to be fixed. I mean, the nerve, right? Sure, if I feel they’re unaware of bits of information that may alter their point of view, I’ll share them. If I don’t understand where they’re coming from, I’ll say so and explain why, in an attempt to find out more. But I’d never instruct them to feel a different way, as if emotions were components that you could remove and replace with more acceptable ones.
No matter how often this has happened to me, it always, always takes me by surprise. I find it impossible to comprehend how someone can view a person that they previously appeared to think highly of as being so broken and incapable, or so intentionally hateful, and then continue to interact with them at all, if it’s not a requirement. How can you continue to consider someone to be a good person if you really feel that it is in their nature to actively choose to swerve off the road of loving kindness at a moment’s notice? How can you find someone reliable and capable of holding up their end of a relationship if you find them so inherently flawed that you feel the need to try to fix them?
I don’t get it. Truly I don’t. And it’s even harder to imagine how I’m supposed to be around anyone who has made it clear that they feel that I’m capable of such negative behavior, or that I’m incapable of competency, especially if they’ve clearly felt that way for quite some time. Ugh. It makes me want to take a shower in bleach. It makes it increasingly difficult for to trust my assessment of people, and almost impossible to believe that compliments are sincere.
So, anyway, that thing happens. And then I’m crushed. And I try to pick up the pieces and move on with my day in light of this new information. I hope I’ve learned a lesson. But I never do. I keep trying to be the best person I can be, and I assume that others are doing the same thing, and that they’ll see that quality in me. But nope.
Speaking strictly from personal observation, it seems like the crux of the difference between neurotypicals and neurodivergents is that of gut instinct. Neurotypicals’ gut instincts seem to be related more to what they are seeing from minute to minute, as far as I can tell. That seems like a scary place to be. How can you count on anything in such an ever-changing landscape? Whereas many neurodivergent people seem to form solid ideas about people and then get confused when the behavior of those individuals doesn’t conform to those solid ideas.
I suppose each method has its drawbacks, but I greatly prefer to live in a world where at least some things have the illusion of staying put and being reliable, even if I’m constantly proven wrong. Gut loyalty makes so much more sense to me, and it’s definitely what I’d like to feel from those whom I love. Here’s what I really want to know: How much kindness do you have to show before people genuinely believe that if your behavior suddenly isn’t coming from a place of kindness, that something must be off kilter?
Apparently I’ve never arrived at that point with anyone. I’m so tired of being misunderstood. I’m tired of defending myself, explaining myself, or being confused by unexpected reactions. I would just like to be known enough to where I won’t get snapped at due to a misunderstanding. I’d greatly prefer a, “Wait. Back up. What?”
I’m not saying you should relate to this line of thought. if you are not on the spectrum, you probably can’t understand it at all. I’m just trying to give you a glimpse into one autistic’s thought process. It might give you some new perspective about a coworker or a relative. One simple piece of advice that I wish the neurotypical world would take is this: If we seem confused about something, or if we ask for help with something that you think is simple, that does NOT mean we are stupid. I’ve never heard an autistic person call anyone stupid, but it happens to us a lot. In fact, our confusion is due to seeing the world differently, to having different sets of logic than you do. And if we’re asking for help, it’s not to be manipulative. It’s because we’d like your help, please. Is there something wrong with that? Is that stupid? Wouldn’t it be more stupid to remain in the dark?
To say autistics should just try harder or be more outgoing or put ourselves out there more in order to make friends is missing the point entirely. It’s like telling someone in a wheelchair that all they have to do is get up and walk, already. It completely discounts our lifetime of autistic experience, trauma responses, and our brain chemistry. It might be easier for you to grasp that concept if you think of us as having come from another planet. We’ll never be earthlings. We hope someday you’ll see that we mean you no harm, and that we’re actually not trying to eat you. We come in peace. Let’s be friends.
Personally, this square autistic peg is never going to be able to fit into an unaccommodating neurotypical round hole. (But actually, my therapist gave me a better analogy recently. Perhaps I’m a round peg in a square hole. I appear to fit, but the fit is an awkward, loose one, and there are corners I’ll never be able to get into.)
If you take nothing else away from this post, please take this: If you know anyone with neurodivergent traits, how about cutting them the tiniest bit of slack, okay? No matter how impatient they make you feel, perhaps consider giving them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe don’t assume the worst of them. Take the time to find out more before jumping to the worst possible conclusions. Remember the good you’ve seen in them in the past, and assume that that is the core of their character and that anything else is worth delving deeper into.
Don’t automatically assume the worst of the neurodivergent people in your life. Have their backs. It’s a safe bet that that would be a refreshing change for them.
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