The View from a Drawbridge

Hannah Gadsby has had a profound impact on my life. I wish I could tell her that. I doubt she’d know what to do with that information. I’m quite sure it would make her uncomfortable. Nevertheless, it’s true.

I first encountered her work when I saw her controversial comedy show, Nanette, on Netflix, and blogged about it here. In retrospect, I can see that above all I was relating to her autism, because one of the quotes from Nanette that I chose to share was, “All my life I’ve been told, ‘Don’t be so sensitive!’ Why is insensitivity something to strive for?” But it still hadn’t sunk in that I was autistic yet. This was back in 2019.

From that point forward, I started paying a lot more attention to her work. I watched everything I could find. So I was really excited to discover that she was coming to Seattle to do a show called Something Special. In it, she spoke even more about her autism, and as everything that she said about it resonated with me, the lightbulb finally went off in my head. I started reading up on autism, and taking online tests, and finally got evaluated. Sure enough, it turns out that I’m autistic. I wrote about that crazy journey, from Hannah’s performance to my diagnosis here. That was in 2022.

I’ve been on quite the ride ever since. It has felt like I’ve met myself for the first time. And now that I can look back at my past through an autistic lens, a lot of puzzle pieces have fallen into place. I now know why many of the people in my life did the things that they did, and why I found those things so incomprehensible at the time. Now I’m kind of grieving the life I could have had had we all known about my autism, and I’m working through the anger I’m experiencing about how different things could have been if people had just been honest with me rather than letting me live in a bubble of illusion simply because it was easier for them than coping with my reaction to facing the facts.

They may not have known about the autism, but if they had at least said, “You’re right. You’re not ‘normal’. It’s not your imagination,” I might have come to understand that I was different, and that wasn’t going to change, and I could have focused on learning coping skills. I might not have grown up thinking I was broken. I might not have felt like such a monumental failure. Having to start that process at this late date has made things that much more difficult. I have lost a few people in this process who aren’t comfortable with me no longer playing the role they cast for me, but that has been their choice, not mine.

But like I said, I give Hannah Gadsby all the credit for starting me off on this journey of self discovery, and I’ll be forever grateful for it. So when I heard she had written a book called Ten Steps to Nanette, I bought it. It came out in 2022, before I even saw her in concert, but I wasn’t aware of that. I’m always years behind trend. And besides, I’m not sure I would have been ready to take it in at that point.

Reading it right now was the perfect time for me. Well, to be honest, I bought the book, but I actually listened to the audiobook that I checked out from the library. It is narrated by her, and it really gets you in touch with her emotions the way a book, however good, never could, so I’m glad I made that choice.

I knew I would relate to all the things she said about her autism. And of course that was true. What took me by surprise is that I also related to all the other unique parts of her life that she chose to share with us in this book.

I, too, related more to adults than I did to my peer group. I, too, was profoundly depressed and no one seemed to notice. I, too, was sexually abused. And while my weight issues didn’t really kick in until my 30’s, I, too, was made to feel ugly and was constantly the butt of jokes. I, too, did not see things the way anyone else saw them. I, too, was rarely heard and even more rarely taken seriously. I, too, struggled to make friends. I, too, couldn’t wait to get out of my backward and ignorant small town. I, too, was provided with many examples of why I have good reason to fear men. I, too, mistook exploitation for love.

I wasn’t a closeted lesbian, which added a whole other layer of complexity to Hannah’s struggles, but in a way I could relate to that, too, because for a long time she didn’t realize she was a lesbian, and yet on some level she still felt the need to hide who she was, which is exactly what I did by masking the autism that I didn’t even know I had. There’s a level of shame there that you don’t even realize you’re experiencing, but that you’re desperately trying to protect yourself from. Once you figure that out, it takes many more years to understand that you never had anything to be ashamed of in the first place.

She talked about disappearing for hours, taking naps, and thinking that because she couldn’t understand the things going on around her that it was somehow her fault, and that it made her unlikeable. She felt like an annoyance and a burden. She spent a lot of time trying to do the right thing, and her masking took the form of observing, guestimating and imitating those around her. All that guessing and pretending, and still not succeeding, led to panicking, then shutting or melting down. She could have been writing about me.

Good God, I’m really making this book sound like something to avoid, but really, it isn’t. I’d give it a 5 star review any day, and strongly urge you to read/listen to it. There are really funny parts, too, and those that are gut-wrenching are also very enlightening. She really shows you what isolation, ostracism, and loneliness truly look like, and then takes you out the other side. And the fact that she not only survived but thrived has given me a profound sense of comfort.

I also found it quite fascinating to learn just how much thought was put into creating Nanette. I knew it was a work of art, but I’m going to have to watch it again. There is a depth there that I may not have plumbed the first time around. Hannah Gadsby is a truth-telling, storytelling genius.

She also said two things in the book that really stuck with me.

While discussing the hostility that gets stirred up around the debate about gay marriage. She talked about how people can be really cruel in order to feel more secure in their place in the world. It’s really counterproductive, isn’t it? She summed it up perfectly. “Being inclusive is just as important as being included.”

She also discussed all the amazing things inside of her that she knows are there. I feel that way, too, and I’m so frustrated and confused by the fact that no one else seems to see those things in me, or at least they don’t appreciate them enough to truly see and befriend me. But she said something that I hope I can remember. “It’s only on the other side of my skin where the pain begins.”

There you go again, Hannah, impacting my life…