This post is also available as a podcast here: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/s-p01/episodes/ASD-Time-e287ppu

One of my mom’s nicknames for me was “Seriously Silly S__” (name redacted.) She would say that I was “so serious, it’s ridiculous.” Yep. I took everything seriously… because I’m on the spectrum. I took everything seriously. It took a large part of my life for me to read into humor, metaphors, sarcasm, and just generally be “lighter.” If I wasn’t also an empath, I would have been totally lost. I may have actually believed I was a robot, hard to say. I have a lot of emotions, but I had to learn how to relate to people even when I felt their emotions. I still don’t understand social norms. Luckily, at my age, I can now just embrace that about myself and know that people will avoid me if they cannot handle who I am.

My dad is also on the spectrum; I knew he was before he did, and before I knew that I was also. He also has no understanding of social norms. He got away with a lot because he’s a white male that is intelligent and good at the work he does, but he alienates people because he doesn’t understand people. I had a rather deep talk recently with a few connections about understanding people. The conversation started because one person was struggling to articulate the work we do to serve others. We’re all scientists, so we learned the scientific method and a very logical approach to scientific inquiry in the analysis of humans (whether that’s medical, psychological, etc.)

They called into question whether the scientific method holds any true value when we work with humans because, as they phrased it, humans are emotional by nature – not logical. Yes, the scientific method is logical, and many humans will not be persuaded in their personal decisions by mere logic. We experience this every day when someone buys a lottery ticket, or feels safer driving 1000 miles instead of flying. The logic tells us the risks do not align with the choice, but the emotional components drive the choice and override the logic. Yes, humans are emotional creatures. All of us. People with ASD are simply at a disadvantage when connecting with the emotional side of others.

In my experience, we reach each other emotionally when we see each other / feel seen by each other. I will use my students as an example because this is my personal experience, so I can speak to it better than what happens in a Dr’s office or customer service counter. When I have a student in distress come into my office, my number one goal is helping them feel seen and supported in a way that deescalates their distress. Why? When we’re in distress, logic doesn’t matter. Our lizard brain doesn’t process logic. The only way to make progress and move forward is to address the emotional side of them first. Personally, the only way to address that side is to hold space for it and let it feel seen.

You may think that people with ASD are less emotional, but we aren’t. It’s merely expressed in different ways. Personally, and this is also true of my dad, we don’t feel like we’re connecting with others. We feel like outcasts, like no one likes us. Something I read suggested that this could be because we struggle to see and accept the emotional indicators of others that show us we’re part of the collective / accepted. Being accepted by someone isn’t an emotion I can read off another person in conversation through my empathy. I have to read it in the ways that a neurotypical would… but I can’t. I had to retrain my default assumptions (based on my upbringing) that said no one liked me. I have to trust that if people hang out with me – they make time for me in their lives, they must accept me.

My obsessiveness and echolalia is also intrinsically linked to ASD. I have a lot of OCD-like systems in place to keep my mind at peace with things. When systems are broken, I freak out. I, and my child, line things up and get very attached to a specific order of things. I have to do things “my way” sometimes, as though my brain completely refuses to do it any other way. Echolalia is a repetition of words or phrases, and it’s something from my dad’s side of the family that we’re known for. My mom used to tease us that we had to repeat ourselves at least three times before we could move on. Yeah. That’s echolalia. It’s part of ASD. I think it helps me teach, though. If I repeat concepts three times, maybe they stick better? Ask my students.

I also have very particular needs for tastes. Sounds rarely bother me, but smells I cannot ignore. I try very hard not to complain, but I am intensely distracted by smells. I have a lot of trouble not stating when something looks out of normal, even if it’s something that promptly shoves my foot in my mouth like “are you tired?” Oops. *facepalm.* Taste is the weirdest one, but my taste is still pretty sensitive. I have an odd quirk with salt, for example. I will never put salt in food I’m making, but I’m fine with salt on food. Example for clarification: salt in soup? NO. Salt on popcorn? YES. Why? I don’t know. Well, I can try to explain that it’s a textural thing, and that when salt is on something I can brush excess off to control the amount of salt. Once you put salt in food, there’s no hope – it’s a lost cause. (I’m probably not going to eat it, sorry.) However, you probably read that and just think I’m being OCD about my food. I am overstimulated by salt… that’s my best explanation. Hahahaha!

Naturally, my story is an ASD moment this week.

I love hiking. I love getting outside, in my giant floppy hat and sunshirt, and enjoying the outdoors. In Summer, there’s a lot of hiking where I live. So, my ex and I used to try and hike at least once a week in the Summer. My ex really struggled with my ASD and my ADHD, they honestly could have been sources for a lot of our issues with connection. He didn’t understand, and he kept thinking that if I just tried harder, I could be fixed. Oof.

So, we would hike. I have asthma, so I tend to need a stop along a steep uphill path. I have knee issues, so sometimes I need a stop along the way back if there’s a lot of downhill (especially stone stairs – ouch.) He gets naturally annoyed by this because he doesn’t need to stop, and I’m limiting the amount of hiking we do by stopping. I don’t hike with people like this anymore. If you can’t enjoy the fact that you’re just outside, don’t hike with me. I’ll get a workout out of it, but I’m also going to enjoy the scenery and occasionally sit.

On our way back, after a lot of sweat and a few stops, a rather large bumblebee decided it wanted to be my new best friend. I (unfortunately) wore a flowery patterned shirt, and my lotion smelled like a flower. Bad choice for the outdoors, S. So, I could not let it go. I could not ignore it and keep walking normally. I kept saying things like “hi, Bumblebee. Sorry, I’m not a flower.” “Please leave me alone, Bee, I’m not a flower.” “Go away, please.” “Argh. I’m not a flower!” I got to a point where I was nearly crying for this bee to leave me alone. If this sounds entertaining to you, let’s go hiking! I think I’m sweetly hilarious because that poor bee had no idea what I was saying, but I know what they were thinking and I was trying to help them while also getting them to leave me alone because their presence made me uncomfortable.

I wish I was a real druid sometimes, because I talk to a lot of animals – I wish they understood me.

If you struggle with any of these things, I hope my stories help you. Love, -S.