We Should All Talk About Autism More — Three Reasons I Love Talking About My Autism
Continuing to hide our autism perpetuates the idea that it should be hidden, that it is somehow shameful. It’s not.
I am autistic. And I’m very open about it.
All of my friends know. It’s plastered all over my social media. I write primarily about autism.
I don’t necessarily tell everyone: a five-minute conversation with a stranger — — not that I have many of these — — probably won’t result in me mentioning my autism. But if I have a reason to mention my autism, I will. And since autism affects most of my life, anyone getting to know me will find out soon enough.
Some neurotypicals seem to be put off by how flippant I am about my autism. I suppose it breaks some social rule I am not privy to. But as I’ve said before, I don’t write for the benefit of neurotypical people. I write for autistic people. And I think most autistic people would be better off if we were open about our autism. Here’s why.
Making Connections
My first reason is a pretty simple one: you can make friends by talking about autism. Or you can at least strengthen existing connections. I didn’t know how prevalent autism was until I started talking about it. Suddenly, people I’ve known since middle school have come out of the woodwork telling me about their autism.
I have connected with other autistic writers and advocates. Though many of them are online friendships, I think there is a benefit in that: in-person relationships can be draining for autistic people, and online friendships can be a way to still socialize without the same level of exhaustion that ‘real’ contact brings.
Autism can be lonely. We don’t understand neurotypicals and neurotypicals don’t understand us. It’s important that we make connections with other autistics, both for our benefit and the benefit of the community at large. Talking about your autism makes this easier: it’ll be hard to just bump into another autistic person at random, but if you talk about your autism, other neurodivergent people will reach out.
I recently mentioned I was autistic at a club meeting. Afterward, another neurodivergent person reached out to me and we talked about our difficulties understanding some social cues. This only happened because I mentioned I was autistic. I don’t think everyone should be compelled to out themselves as autistic, and I recognize that there are times that it can be unsafe to do so. If you are in a situation where you feel comfortable doing so, however, you may find that it helps you find like-minded people with whom you can socialize a little more comfortably.
Normalization
This is less of a personal benefit, but it is still important for the autistic community. Talking about your autism, especially if you are someone who does not fit autistic stereotypes, helps other autistic people.
I’ll use myself as an example. I am a Mexican young adult currently enrolled at a highly ranked university with a 4.0 GPA, holding down a job, a relationship, and a few long-term friendships. I mask well enough to ‘pass’ as neurotypical, if a bit weird. I speak three languages and write extensively about my life. I am also very much autistic.
When most people unfamiliar with autistic advocacy think of autism, they don’t think of someone like me. They think of a child, usually male, who has associated intellectual disabilities and has public meltdowns. This is not an inaccurate picture: there are many autistic people who do meet this stereotype. It came from somewhere, after all.
It’s not inaccurate, but it is incomplete. There is no one way to be autistic, and stereotypes only hurt autistic people by reducing the chance that we are diagnosed early and reducing the likelihood of us being taken seriously when talking about our autism.
Talking about my autism is advocacy. I want to challenge people’s ideas of what autism looks like. Thanks to organizations like Autism Speaks that tend to portray autism as inherently harmful (see the “I Am Autism” ad), many have come to believe that autism is a curse. I want to be the opposite of that. I want to show autistic pride. I want to help normalize our existence and show that autistic people can live fulfilling lives, and I want to use my work to advocate for policies and programs that will help autistic people everywhere.
Again, I know not everyone is in a position to join me. But if you are, know that every time you are open about your autism, you are helping to advance the well-being of autistic people everywhere. In a neurotypical society that tries to hide us, being openly autistic is an act of defiance that helps push us forward.
Why Shouldn’t I Be?
This final point can be summarized in one quick question: why shouldn’t I be open about my autism?
I have found that some neurotypicals seem to become uncomfortable when I am open about my autism. I assume I’m breaking some social rule I don’t understand. Frankly, I don’t care to understand it.
Even if there was no broader benefit to being open about my autism, I would do it anyway. Because it’s a part of me. Just like being Mexican, or non-binary, or a writer, or a fan of House, my autism contributes to the person I am today. It is, in fact, one of the largest contributors to shaping my experience. I’m open about all of the other characteristics, why wouldn’t I be open about my autism as well?
Continuing to hide our autism perpetuates the idea that it should be hidden, that it is somehow shameful. It’s not. There is nothing wrong with us. I dream of a day where autistic people will be afforded the same dignity as anyone else. I don’t want to be coddled or treated like a child, but I also don’t want to be treated exactly like a neurotypical, because I’m not one. I want autism to be seen as a fact of life, so I will keep talking about it as a fact of life. Maybe broader social change won’t happen in my lifetime, but I hope that by being open about my autism, I can at least work on getting us there.
If you are in a position to do so, I encourage you to be open about your autism. There should be no shame in it because there is nothing wrong with it. There is nothing wrong with us. One day, I hope the rest of the world believes that.
Tori Morales (they/them) is an autistic college student writing about mental health, autism, and other topics. You can support them by using their Medium affiliate link or buying them a coffee.
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