‘You Don’t Seem Autistic’
‘You Don’t Seem Autistic’, Feb 2022
The grinning creature with the sharp teeth smiles condescendingly at the masked figure in the painting. It has just said, ‘you don’t seem autistic.’ Does it mean this as a compliment? Is it a qualified psychologist who is an expert on neurodiversity?
Often, not. Often, when people tell me I don’t seem autistic, they say it because to them, I do not conform to what their idea of ‘disability’ is. Autism, for the neurotypical person who knows not much, is a bad thing, a hindrance.
But I know it’s not. It’s simply a different wiring of the brain, which is wondrous.
The masked figure forces a smile and bows politely. Behind it, the mask has been removed and there is my displeased face. I don’t like it when people say I ‘don’t seem autistic’. It is no compliment; it is an insult. Being on the spectrum is a part of my identity. Does this mean the neurotypical person who knows not much is telling me I don’t seem like who I am? Are they accusing me of being fake? Are they declaring that we shouldn’t put a label on such things (while not realising that some people might find it easier to understand the world when there are labels)?
Inside, I feel frustrated. I feel pressure to somehow prove I am on the spectrum. But that would involve revealing things I don’t want to say to someone I’ve only just met. I don’t want to show my vulnerable side to someone I barely know. I don’t want to confess I’ve had meltdowns, or, like so many other neurodivergents, have experienced anxiety and depression.
One time, I went to an alternative health conference as a patient. I wanted to get treatment for depression. The conference leader insisted I was not autistic (was I being reprimanded?), even though I never expressed this was an issue for me. A procession of her students lined up, crowding around me with toothy, patronising grins. “Don’t worry, you’re not autistic”, they repeated one after another. It was a baffling and frightening experience. I felt like my identity was being stripped away from me.
Sometimes it’s easier, for the high functioning autistic person, to put on a mask. It doesn’t make it any less frustrating though.
