'You're Probably The Least Autistic Person Here'

‘You’re probably the least Autistic person here.’

This was said to me by someone I had just met at a social event a couple of weeks ago.

We had been speaking for perhaps five minutes. I can’t remember why I mentioned that I was Autistic, but their response was jarring and sent me into a spiral of questions and rumination. What about me in that moment did they perceive to be ‘less Autistic’ than them? ‘Less Autistic’ than everyone else?

As a late diagnosed Autistic, I have been back and forth and back again through the cycle of ‘Am I making this all up?’. For years, I didn’t fit in. I didn’t feel like I was like everyone else, while trying so hard to be like everyone else, and like the version of me people wanted me to be. When I finally realised that I was different, that I hadn’t imagined it, it was a huge relief. But then, as I began to start honouring my neuro-normal, to start recognising when I was neuro-performing and actively moving away from it, another set of concerns set in. Was I really, actually, Autistic? Or was I just ‘a little bit Autistic?’. The phrase, ‘everyone is a little bit Autistic’ is often said to folx in response to disclosing their Autism, by folx who do not identify as Autistic. It is perfectly possible, that those who say this, are neuro-performing themselves and have not yet discovered their own neuro-normal, which may well be Autistic. However, this response undermines, minimises and dismisses the lived experience of those of us who know we are Autistic and are likely disclosing in order to access support needs, at a great risk to various aspects of our safety. If we actually lived in a reality that was built on the premise that ‘everyone is a little bit Autistic’, then we would have a hell of a lot less ableism and a great deal more of our support needs met. But to claim that we are all a bit Autistic while still denying us basic support needs, is infuriating and exhausting.

Contrary to a popular myth about Autism, it is not a ‘linear spectrum’. It does not have two extreme points, with every Autistic person sitting somewhere along that line from ‘mild’ to ‘severe’ (these are outdated and harmful terms which should be thrown out with the linear spectrum idea!). There are many features of Autism that have been identified, and Autistic folx may or may not experience any one feature, and those who do will experience that feature to different degrees. To what extent we experience different features may also be dependent on environment, context, safety. It is more accurate to think of Autism as a pie chart or a wheel of features. The other myth that needs dispelling here, is ‘that we are all on the spectrum’. While I don’t believe that neurotypical actually exists, but rather that it is a performance of the construct of normal, I also know that Autism includes a specific set of mindbody features that not everyone experiences. Again, those who say things like ‘we are all on the spectrum’, may well be people who identify with Autistic features and just assume everyone does, because they haven’t yet discovered their own neurodivergence, and I give grace for this. However, it is misleading and inaccurate to state that all humans are on the Autism spectrum.

As demonstrated by the experience shared in the opening lines of this piece, other Autistic folx are often involved in reinforcing unhelpful stereotypes and myths around the experience of Autism. One might think that I am ‘good at socialising’ because I spent a great number of years neuro-performing. To some extent this is true. One might also assume, as perhaps this person did, that I am ‘mildly Autistic’, an outdated and inaccurate understanding of Autism that views it in terms of how well one can perform ‘normal’. While it is true that not everyone can neuro-perform, and I recognise that I have privileges due to my ability to neuro-perform, it is still a performance, and it takes a toll on me. Performing normal takes a toll on all of us, because it doesn’t truly represent anyone in their totality, and it keeps us trapped in cycles that uphold the systems that are oppressing us. We can recognise this while also holding that neuro-performing for Autistics may be harder and cost more than for non-Autistics. Here we must also consider the other aspects of one’s identity - how we are racialised, for example, - because this will impact how exhausting this performance is, as well as how necessary it is for survival. Something that most people don’t consider, however, is how Autism may support and even enhance one’s ability to ‘socialise’ in a way that might be perceived as ‘normal’ in some situations, without the need for neuro-performing.

Two features of Autism that I experience to a high degree are; Special Interests and Pattern Recognition. When we talk about Autistic special interests, stereotypes that exist in people’s colonial conditioning mean the subject matter considered is rather limited. Trains, Star Wars, Lego, collecting stamps... The idea that the subject is important is where we have missed the point. The fact that we have a special interest in the subject, is the whole point. The subject itself, could be anything. One of my special interests, is people. I am so intrigued by people. By the human condition. By the way people think and act and exist and love and commune and all the possible ways we could do any of those things. I undertook a degree in neuroscience because I wanted to make greater sense of these things that I had already spent 30 years closely observing. This, inadvertently, helps me appear ‘social’ in the colonially constructed sense, because I am interacting with one of my special interests. As for pattern recognition, again the stereotypes have us counting cards, decoding secret messages and being mathematical geniuses. I am good at maths, but I’m no genius. Many Autistic folx are not good at maths. We are not a monolith! And while I have always had a knack for numbers, it is not where my pattern recognition presents in its most profound way. The patterns that jump out at me, that hit me over the head while no one else seems to notice, are the intricate and nuanced ways in which people interact with each other. A few years ago, when I was unaware of my Autism and trying to make sense of my ability to understand and predict human behaviour (which was hugely helpful in my role as Chief People Officer in tech), I coined the term ‘Interpersonal Physics’. I am able to see the parts moving, how each action creates a reaction, and I am able to see the layers of systems in which these processes are taking place. All this being said, I have to be paying attention. If I am tired, or overwhelmed, feeling unsafe or heading for shutdown, the patterns won’t necessarily reveal themselves to me in full - I may just experience physical sensations that alert me to the presence of conflict or harm if that is taking place. But when I am paying attention, when I am focused, this skill means that I can converse easily, say things that are interesting, ask pertinent questions, be funny, charming. It also means I can recognise danger, abuse, harm, often before it fully materialises. None of this is happening because I am performing, but because I have a deep understanding of my situation and how I want to contribute to it. So two of my most prevalent, intense, and personally defining features of Autism can actually make me appear as ‘neurotypical’ to Autistics and non-Autistics alike. The irony here highlights just how ridiculous the construct of normal is in the first place.

None of us have an accurate idea of how Autism is experienced by anyone else, whether we are Autistic or not. When we are informed by someone that they are Autistic, it is our job to believe them. That’s it. If they want to share more about how Autism is experienced by them, that is their choice, and it is much more likely to happen if we don’t make assumptions or assertions about what that might mean for them. So if you ever find yourself thinking that someone ‘is only a little bit Autistic’… remember that there is a deep, rich and complex world happening inside their mindbodies, and to treat the gift of a glimpse of that world with the humility and the wonder that it deserves.

—AJ

Today’s Neuro-Embodiment Prompts:

Suggestions and questions to help you engage with mindbody decolonisation:

• Do you ever think about people in terms of being more or less Autistic? More or less OCD? More or less ADHD? How can you reframe this such that you can be more curious around unique experiences of these ways of existing?

• What systems of harm does the ‘mild to severe’ construct of Autism uphold? What isms does it play into? How would you like to disrupt and dismantle these ideas?

• Do you have mindbody features that align with Autism, whether you identify as Autistic or not? How could you explore these features and what they mean to you, how they present in you?

• What needs are you denying yourself through minimising your mindbody features? Are you doing this with others in your life? How can you lead with belief and support?