Dismantling the Lies of Neuro-Normativity: The Weight of Normal Almost Killed Me - Autism Was My First Clue That My Brain Wasn't Broken
Unlearning Normal: My Journey from Self-Hatred to Self-Compassion - The Life Raft of Knowing & How My Autism Diagnosis Saved Me
I don't talk about Autism as much these days... for a few reasons.
Many people would (reasonably) guess that one of the reasons I've not been talking about "Autism" as much these days is due to the increased urgency of other current political events within the United States (and the impending threat of fascism). These people would be right (but only partially).
Welcome back to another Founding Member Post!
Twice each month I will put out an exclusive post like this one (often on a more intimate and personal topic, book sneak peeks, OR featuring some of the training materials I’m teaching) that will be brought to you by and for our Founding Members.
When I am scheduling this post, we have Forty Three Founding Members!
I won’t put them on the spot today, but you know who you are. I can’t thank you enough for your support (especially in this moment).
When I first launched this blog almost nine years ago, my passion for 'Autism' and 'NeuroDiversity' was all-consuming.
In stereotypical Autistic fashion, I was fully immersed in my specific chosen area of focus (with little space for anything or anyone else).
After a lifetime of not knowing that I was Autistic, or even what Autism REALLY was, it was natural for me to want to learn as much as possible about Autism, NeuroDivergence, and by extension, myself.
At that moment in my life, when the doctor told me I was (and always had been) Autistic, something awakened inside me—the part of me that had been locked away in a "shame box."
It was as if suddenly I could see that so much of what I'd "packed away" about myself (the things I'd been most ashamed of in my not knowing about Autism and NeuroDiversity) were traits that could be attributed to "Autism".
Autism somehow explained not just my struggles and difficulties, but also seemed to define many of my strengths. It also appeared (in my mind) to explain many of the characteristics people seemed to like most about me.
Like two sides of the same coin, it seemed like almost any way I'd ever stood out in this world (both good and bad) could be chiseled back to being Autistic in some way.
The medical books only described Autism as something bad, "a toxic thing that ruins lives and families". Still, I saw myself (and my Autism) as more than that... something that was neither good nor bad... but simply was (both everything I'd loved and hated about myself). This view immediately put me at odds with the medical community and many parents of Autistic children (who felt Autism had stolen their child's chance at a "normal life").
What is NORMAL?
Normal is relative to time, place, culture, family, upbringing, and one's values. Normal is relative to your brain, nervous system, and how you perceive the world (both your internal world and the physical external world).
I nearly killed myself (literally) reaching for what I thought was "a normal life" - a life that was always out of reach (and not even what I wanted).
A "normal life" was what had weighed me down, becoming so heavy I almost vanished under the pressure of it, unable to name the suffocating force (I now know as neuro-normativity).
It was only letting go of the idea of "normal" that set me free from my stuck-ness with comparing myself to others (instead of living).
All the things I did not know...
In the early days, in my ignorance, I likely attributed many things to being Autistic that could have been related to one of the numerous other differences and NeuroTypes I didn't know I had (yet)..
Back then, Autism was all I knew. It was a beacon I grasped to, as if it were the only lifejacket left after a horrible boat accident over deep waters.
Now I know that there were a variety of NeuroTypes and brain differences that contribute to my experience of the world... and I hold space for the not knowing that I currently have (that future me will look back on, hopefully with compassion, in much the same way I am looking back on my past self today).
