A late autism identification has a tendency to change one’s perspective on things. My own identification at age 40 is certainly a case in point. Many questions for which there were never satisfactory explanations, answered. A half-baked self-identity made whole. In essence, a newly discovered lens through which to view myself and the world around me.
Growing up and well into adulthood, my outlook on life was shaped not exclusively but to a significant extent by internalized ableism, unrealistic expectations I held for myself and for others, and self-unacceptance. Consequently, I blamed only myself when criticized for behaviors to which others objected, whenever something didn’t go my way, or when I stood apart from the crowd for what I perceived as the wrong reasons. I engaged in excessive self-belittlement due mostly to insufficient self-knowledge and self-love.
In the wake of my autism identification, I worked on adopting more realistic expectations of myself as well as on greater self-acceptance. I committed to learning about what autism entails, which, in turn, led to greater self-understanding. I finally felt comfortable in my own skin, having become stronger and wiser.
There is usually more than one way to look at something. The reason for a particular behavior is no exception. I moved from viewing many of my behaviors in an unfavorable, often unforgiving light to doing so in a healthier, more informed light after my autism was revealed. A few examples:
The Frequent Need to Verify Details
The visible and audible communication of annoyance upon being asked to make the extra effort. “Listen to me in the first place and you wouldn’t have to verify.” Complete silence. Over the years, these have been among people’s responses to my efforts at confirming the facts, simply so that I can be at my best for myself and others.
Pre-identification, I took these kinds of reactions personally, saying to myself something along the lines of “what’s the matter with me.” Post-identification, I was able to move past that mindset, having arrived at an enhanced understanding of my true self. I also understand that probably most people fail to consider the reasons behind a given behavior before passing judgement.
In this case, the actual reasons have to do with the common autistic tendency to crave certainty. To want to be correct on the details. These are behaviors that are consistent with our neurotype but which often bring adverse consequences.
“Stop Being Defensive”
Another example of a response from others that I took personally while growing up and which I would later come to accept about myself. Not that I use acceptance as an excuse for not working on this particular behavior. Rather, I accept my defensiveness as being inseparable from who I am while acknowledging that it should be improved upon. More than one individual whom I have cared about over the years has expressed genuine displeasure with it, and so I do what I can.
Rejection sensitivity is another behavioral commonality among autistic individuals that accounts for why I frequently cannot help but defend myself when I have been denied validation or when I feel like I’m emotionally under the gun. My defensiveness is a self-protective strategy over which I have found I have relatively limited control, although I have managed to make inroads in this regard. Only to an extent, however. Cutting back more than a little has proven to be an utterly unrealistic expectation, and I’m fine with that. Small steps!
Turning My Mother Over to the Authorities
At the time, I was maybe 8 years old or so and my older brothers as well as my mother got a big laugh out of this. I, in turn, laughed at myself over the years that followed whenever what I did came up in conversation or crossed my mind, though I was too young and not yet identified as autistic to be able to think seriously about the incident and understand why it occurred in the first place.
I can’t remember specifically what it was that my mother did when we took a family trip to the beach. What I do recall is that there was a list of beach rules and regulations posted on the wall at the facility we walked into when we first arrived, and it was obvious to me that she broke one of them. I then proceeded to tell the attendant in charge what she had done, thinking that rules exist for a reason and if one or more of them are violated, there should be consequences. Thankfully, all was forgiven and Mom was let off the hook. The attendant apparently didn’t think much of whatever the infraction was.
Today, I understand all too well. Literal, matter-of-fact interpretation of sensory input, including written communication, lies at the heart of how autistic individuals tend to process information. Not that I would actually jump off a cliff if somebody were to tell me to do so. We all have lines to draw in this regard. The readily visible rules and regulations at the beach facility all those years ago evidently did not cross my own line at the time, and so I took them at face value and acted according to what I felt was right when one of them was broken. That my own mother was directly involved was admittedly of secondary importance to me, over which I feel a degree of guilt to this day. In retrospect, I’m grateful there was no punishment in store for her. Instead, a few good laughs and a memorable family story worth sharing.
“Get That Smirk off Your Face”
This is what an irate middle school teacher of mine said to me after one or more of my classmates did something he disapproved of. Exactly what it was, I cannot recall. I only know that it wasn’t me who committed the act that initially set him off. Rather, I managed to add insult to injury by smiling while he was expressing his displeasure to the entire class.
It’s never easy when you’re singled out as I was amidst a sizeable group of people. I blamed myself for having that smirk on my face, feeling as though there was no sound justification for it. I simply couldn’t comprehend why I reacted that way.
Post-identification, I have come to understand that my particular autism profile carries with it a susceptibility to there being a mismatch between a facial expression and the emotion at hand. That day at school, what my teacher perceived as arrogance behind the smirk was actually my way of trying to deal with his anger over whatever it was that got under his skin. Back then, I found other people’s ire quite unsettling and this incident was no exception.
The “out-of-place smirk/smile” isn’t my only expression/emotion mismatch tendency. Laughing as a coping mechanism under challenging circumstances and little or no facial affect during emotionally charged situations are common with me.
Passing Out During High School Biology Class
Marked sensory sensitivity, commonplace across the autism community, was at play in this instance, although I didn’t look at it that way at the time, having not yet been identified as autistic. Deep down, I felt singled out, awkward and weak, considering that nobody else in my 9th Grade Biology class fainted while we were watching a particularly graphic video of open-heart surgery.
I fell off my chair to the floor though fortunately managed to avert injury. My teacher, to his credit, knew to send me to the school nurse as a precautionary measure and I checked out fine. It was while I was walking to the nurse’s office, alone with my ruminations over what had happened, that the above emotions intensified.
If only I knew then what I know now. An understanding of the sensory vulnerabilities that commonly accompany autism would have kept me from beating up on myself.
All of this to say that for most behaviors, there will be more than one possible interpretation. I would learn, though not until middle age when my autism surfaced, that my own reasons for many of my behaviors were flawed yet could change for the better with a newfound outlook and some time and effort. Nothing short of a transformation with respect to my state of mind and sense of self.
Sam Farmer is a neurodiversity advocate, writer, author, and public speaker. Identified later in life as autistic, he shares stories of lived experiences as well as ideas and insights as to how one can achieve greater happiness and success in the face of challenge and adversity. A Long Walk Down a Winding Road – Small Steps, Challenges, & Triumphs Through an Autistic Lens is his first book. Visit samfarmerauthor.com to learn more.
