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Autism Is Not My Personality
Disability influences my life in huge ways, but it does not define my destiny.
A few days ago, I made a post on Instagram about the fact I tend to over-explain things. I’m very accustomed to being misunderstood, and to not having my feelings taken seriously by others, so I go to great pains to communicate my experience as clearly and persuasively as possible. I’m also a hyper-verbal person: the way I make sense of my emotions and desires is by translating them into language. Unfortunately, this tendency can backfire on me, getting me labeled “long-winded” or as one commenter recently described me, “hand-wringing.”
In my post, I mentioned that this frustrating dynamic has a lot to do with my being Autistic. Autistic people express ourselves differently than non-Autistic people do. It’s not that we are bad communicators, contrary to popular belief. There’s just a mismatch between what works for us and what neurotypicals expect.
Autistics tend to use facial expressions, tone of voice, and language differently than neurotypicals do, but it’s not due to a lack of social skill. An experiment conducted in 2019 by Crompton et al found that when two Autistic people work together on a challenging task, they communicate super efficiently and effectively and complete the task with relative ease. It’s only when an Autistic person is paired with a non-Autistic that they struggle to be understood.
Neurotypicals have frequently found my default way of being to be confusing and strange. As a child, adults used to repeat my words back to me with a skeptical tone. Peers would pause or laugh uncomfortably after I spoke, and then change the subject of the conversation, signaling I had ruined the interaction somehow. Today, if I am uncomfortable or on the verge of a sensory meltdown, most people don’t even notice me squirming and cringing with distress. If I do share I’m in pain or experiencing overwhelm, I risk being told I’m oversensitive or hearing things that aren’t there.