![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
About two years ago I began thinking I might be autistic. As we all learned more about autistic presentation in folks not typically assigned male at birth, I had this dawning sense of realization. It was about as big, as world-changing, as realizing I am queer. And, honestly, the realization made me equal parts angry and ashamed. Angry that no-one had known, that no-one had told me, angry at everything in my younger years that would have gone better if ANYONE had known I am autistic and had been able to provide accommodations*. Ashamed that I had not known, that I had spent my entire life lying to everyone I know.
When I figured it out I couldn't tell anyone. Being autistic was and still is a medical disqualification for my former job. But I retired last year and immediately came out as autistic. (The wait-list for adult official diagnosis for autism in Minnesota is two years, just, fyi.)
Now I have begun the incredibly fraught, difficult, process of learning to undo decades of masking.
Devon Price wrote an essay, How Do I Cope With Anti-Autistic Bias?, that is emotionally devastating. Not because it is depressing, but because it is hopeful. The research shows that NT people like autistic people more when they know we are autistic. (Obviously this is not universal, many people are assholes who prey on what they perceive as weakness.) This is devastating because I, we, all of us, have spent so much fucking time and energy trying to fake being something we are not, and it wasn't necessary. In fact, it might have made things worse for us.
I have no idea who I would be if I hadn't spent so much time and energy constructing the people-suit. I remember being thirteen years old, practicing facial expressions in the mirror, trying over and over again to get them Right, Right Enough to not be bullied. Obviously, it did not work.
I am incredibly grateful to all the people who saw through my efforts to be someone else and who befriended me in spite of my bullshit.
* I did go to a boarding school for geeks and nerds, so, like, that was ALMOST an accommodation. Sort of. But in reality, all the MANY, MANY autistic and ADHD kids at that school just floundered along together, relying on being good at certain kinds of learning to compensate for everything else.
When I figured it out I couldn't tell anyone. Being autistic was and still is a medical disqualification for my former job. But I retired last year and immediately came out as autistic. (The wait-list for adult official diagnosis for autism in Minnesota is two years, just, fyi.)
Now I have begun the incredibly fraught, difficult, process of learning to undo decades of masking.
Devon Price wrote an essay, How Do I Cope With Anti-Autistic Bias?, that is emotionally devastating. Not because it is depressing, but because it is hopeful. The research shows that NT people like autistic people more when they know we are autistic. (Obviously this is not universal, many people are assholes who prey on what they perceive as weakness.) This is devastating because I, we, all of us, have spent so much fucking time and energy trying to fake being something we are not, and it wasn't necessary. In fact, it might have made things worse for us.
I have no idea who I would be if I hadn't spent so much time and energy constructing the people-suit. I remember being thirteen years old, practicing facial expressions in the mirror, trying over and over again to get them Right, Right Enough to not be bullied. Obviously, it did not work.
I am incredibly grateful to all the people who saw through my efforts to be someone else and who befriended me in spite of my bullshit.
* I did go to a boarding school for geeks and nerds, so, like, that was ALMOST an accommodation. Sort of. But in reality, all the MANY, MANY autistic and ADHD kids at that school just floundered along together, relying on being good at certain kinds of learning to compensate for everything else.