Autistic Pride – #Resist

Back when I was first diagnosed autistic, way back when I was in the first throws of understanding and accepting the reality of who I was I discovered a day known a Autistic Pride Day. I thought this was great. I’m not sure how well I understood it and I am sure I wasn’t really that able to articulate what I had to be proud about.

A typical response to pride festivities is why be proud just for being something. On the surface this seems to have some merit as a question. But I think to really answer it we must ask ourselves where does this pride emanate from? What are its roots? Without that it is somewhat hard to explain what it is to have Pride in your Autistic personhood.

Autistic Pride day sits right in the middle of LGBTIQ+ Pride month, consequently there is lots of Pride images and memes and posts all over the socials. One that is currently doing the rounds and is one explaining some of the roots of LGBTIQ+ pride. It goes something like this:

Pride exists because of a woman

Pride exists because of a trans woman

Pride exists because of a trans woman of colour

Pride exists because of a bisexual trans woman of colour

Pride exists because a bisexual trans woman of colour picked up a brick and threw it at a cop and a movement was born.

Pride then is born of resistance. Resisting the status quo that seeks to other, to sideline, to make less than.

Pride then is born when a marginalised group of people stand and say no more! We aren’t having that any longer! We are people just like you and we aren’t going to take this shit anymore.

All the parades, the flag waving the dancing in the street are the outpouring on the surface of what has come at a far deeper level; resistance.

This resistance in the LGBTIQ+ community has achieved much for equality: decriminalisation, marriage equality, emerging transgender rights, all of which are a part of a larger journey away from being othered by society, away from being considered less than by society and towards inclusion as just another part of the wonderful tapestry of diversity that makes up the human condition.

It would be easy to say but autistic people aren’t othered or seen as less than but nothing could possibly be further than the truth. Just look at the way autism is talked about in greater society.

A disorder

An epidemic

A vaccine injury

A child lost.

Just look at how we are spoken to and about by professionals and parents.

Never be able to look after themselves.

A non verbal stimming puddle

You don’t speak for my child

Don’t call yourself autistic you are a person with autism

So many othering statements are made about us and to us. So many decisions are made about us and for us without our input or consent.

Autistic Pride then comes too from resistance. It started when some autistic people started to say, no we aren’t having that. No we won’t put up with this any longer. No we are just as human as you and just as capable of self-determination as you are.

Autistic Pride comes from a place of resistance, no longer are we going to accept being othered. No longer are we going to accept being described as an epidemic, an injury a lost child. No longer are we going to accept being described and treated as though we are less than the rest of humanity.

Autistic Pride resists! Autistic Pride says no more othering. Autistic Pride says Nothing About Us Without Us. Autistic Pride says we are Different NOT Less.

So my autistic tribe, my neurodivergent siblings, be proud, embrace pride! Embrace yourself as the beautiful wonderful unique gift to humanity that you are.

On June 18 embrace yourself, pick up your infinity symbols of neurodiversity and grasp them with Pride and #resist. Resist those that would other you, resit those that would pathologise you, resist those that would prevent you from self-determination.

#Resist and get your #Autistic #Pride on!

The A-Z of Autism April 2016 — Updated 2019

In 2016 I wrote a bunch of blog posts throughout April, which is known variously as autism awareness month, autism acceptance month, hell for autistics month and of course simply just April.

I thought it would be good to gather these posts into a series to make them easier to navigate.

Enjoy.

Links to each story below:

A is for Autism…

B is for Bandaid…

C is for Communication

D is for Different

E is for Eye Contact…

F is for Fluctuating Functioning…

Humanity is always the platform.

Some years ago now I became familiar with the the metaphor of autism being a different operating system. It was put out there as autism being like a mac in a windows world. I remember thinking at the time that perhaps this was not the best analogy and that perhaps unix or linux was more likely a better metaphor than max or OSX was.

My thinking around this was that mac has become much more mainstream and expected than unix or linux has. Linux is still very much a niche corner of the personal computing market. Regardless of numbers or marketshare and whatnot any operating system requires an architecture or platform on which to run. No matter how good your operating system is it is always contingent on the hardware or platform on which it runs.

In terms of the personal desktop and laptop environments the platform or architecture on which operating systems run are generally an intel based central processing unit supported by suitable motherboard and ram memory units to enable the operating system to run.

Shifting focus now, imagine if we think about humanity as the platform or architecture or hardware on which the operating system — or neurology — runs on top of. Regardless of whether one’s operating system is neurodivergent or neurotypical one is still running on an underlying system of humanity.

I think this is an important point. Often neurodivergent folk — disabled folk in general really — are dehumanised, they are considered to be somewhat less than. Somewhat less than when drilled down really comes down to meaning less than human. This is clearly seen when the bodily autonomy of disabled persons is routinely ignored. This is seen when disabled folks rights to privacy are seen as less than the right of parents, caregivers and professionals to display these disabled folks lives across public forums.

In short society regularly places the humanity of disabled folk contingent upon how they impact the lives of those around them. This is most horrendously seen when disabled folk are murdered by their caregivers and community responses are not outrage at the murder but calls for understanding and sympathy for the murderer who must have had such a tough time having to live and care for the disabled person.

When we fail to uphold the inherrent humanity of every human person regardless of their ability or disability we start on a process of dehumanisation of actual human persons. We take it upon ourselves to judge and categorise which humans actually have the right to be treated as having inherrant humanity and by extension having actual human rights.

Autistic people, other neurodivergent people, physically disabled people, otherly disabled people. We all have something in common we are all actual human folk, and as such are entitled to the same human rights as non disabled folk.

When we see humanity as the platform, the basic building block upon which our physical abilities, our intellectual prowess, our neurological systems are built then we start from a place where humanity is valued in each and every person. If we fail to do this, then, I would contend that we ourselves have begun down a path in which our own humanity has been compromised.

If humanity is the platform we see personhood built on then the operating system which is working on it becomes transparrent to us actually viewing the humanity of the underlying person.

I am an transgender autistic lesbian woman and I am a human person. My human rights, just like any other human persons should not be negotiable. Not by plebiscite, not by judging my financial contribution, not by judging my social contribution not be any of that. No not at all.

Every human persons human rights should be non negotiable.

Transdgender Day of Visibility

Today is March 31st, the day is not just any other march day it is the day we call International Transgender Day of Visibility. It’s a day in the year set aside to be visible, to stop and pause, to think about where we are as people, where we are as community where we are in terms of equality and of course where we are in terms of personal safety to be who we are.

One of the things with the Transgender community is we don’t all want to be visible, we don’t all want to be advocates and out and proud about our trans histories. It is important to acknowledge this right from the get go, right from. the start and affirm that as a valid choice for a trans or gender diverse person to make. It’s their life after all.

It’s not my choice. I think I am an advocote or activist at heart. The idea of not being visible is something that sits completely outside of my frame of reference of how to do life. I imagine this is influenced by the reality of hiding my true self for so long, hiding it so effectively I had almost successfully hidden it from myself. No longer am I ever going to pretend I am something that I am fundamentally not.

For me today is a day to be even more visible than ever. I am pretty visible. I am active in my workplace I fly a trans flag at my desk, I wear a trans coloured lanyard around my workplace everyday, over the last several days my story has been up on a large poster in the foyer of my workplace where at least 4000 people walk past each day.

I had to ask myself the question, today, how is it that I be that little bit visible, and it occurred to me that it was in a few of the little things. Like on going for coffee to take my laptop and open it proudly with it’s “trans rights are human rights” sticker on it — normally I would just use my ipad in this situation. On getting ready to leave this morning it was that making a decision to go super light on in the makeup department, a very light coverage with no contouring no eye makeup no mascara etc.

Sure they’re just little things but they are things that make sure I am visible. I live my life out and proud and so it is not like there are huge things I can do that make me any more visible than I already am.

In all of this I must acknowledge my privelege. I live in a place where it is generally safe to be visible, to publicly live my life as my true self. Not everyone has this privelege and this must be acknowledged. It is my hope that trans people that want to be visible do so at an appropriate level of safety today.

If you choose to be visible today on this day of visibility please do so safely. Don’t place yourself in personal danger. Be safe. The world is a better place with you in it. The tragegy of our tribe being assaulted and murdered is a massive tragedy and the last thing we want is that terrible number to grow today of all days.

On this transgeder day of visibility let’s all be as visible as it is safe to be. Let’s celebrate ourselves and by joyful in our freedom to be who we are. Let’s steel ourselves to to continue to fight and advocate for those that do not have that freedom.

May it be that someday we can all just be and live the truth that is within us.

The Importance of being Earnest oops I mean Visible

Given the media attention, the rampant trans negative rhetoric that seems to appear in multiple media sources every single day, it would be easy to make the mistake that trans and gender diverse people have as much visibility in the community as could possibly be needed. I mean it’s now a few years since the notorious headline proclaiming the transgender tipping point.

Perception is always different from reality though. In reality this is far from the truth. There are lots of issues that go into making visibility an issue in the trans space.

One of these issues is that a significant number of trans people when they transition they choose to go “stealth”, which means, just going about living their lives in the gender identity and expression that most authentic for them. Sounds pretty reasonable really. What happens of course is that they become invisible as a part of the LGBTIQ community. I understand the need for some people to do this, it is most certainly their choice and prerogative to make. It is absolutely not my, or anyone else’s for that matter to make that choice for them.

The choice to disclose one’s trans history, gender identity, gender expression is private and personal choice. It should not be forced, cajoled, manipulated or pressured by others. There are many factors that go into such a choice, including: personal safety, personal capacity, job security, financial security, and many other life circumstances. It is absolutely and positively a personal decision to be made by the individual whose trans history it is.

Having said all of that, I maintain that visibility is super important to the trans community. It is vital in being accepted, it is pivotal in redressing the negative rhetoric, and it is most certainly incredibly important for trans people just daring to sneak a look and beginning to emerge from the closet.

Personally, for reasons I am not completely clear on, I have the capacity to be out and visible in pretty much all situations I am in. I simply don’t do stealth. I am out and I am proud and ready to advocate for myself and others at any chance I get.

I believe it is important that I do this, who knows there may come a time when I lose this capacity and I would hate to have let the chance pass to change things for myself and my community.

Something I have learned as I have travelled this out and visible journey is you just never know how and when you make a difference for people that you just don’t know about. Sure there are lots of times you get to be public and loud and obvious and they are important and needed things to do. But sometimes those times that you haven’t even realised you’ve made an impact can be really powerful. I learned of a time tonight where my being authentic and visible has had an impact on someone I had never even met.

I was at my beauty therapist getting a treatment tonight and we were happily chatting and she told me about one of her clients who had come in and fearfully shared they were wanting to come out and transition. I’ve been seeing this therapist for over a year and we’ve had quite the few frank conversations about gender identity, expression, transition coming out and all manner of things. It was lovely and wonderful to hear her tell how she was able to relay her experiences and conversations with me and my journey in an encouraging way to this client.

I don’t really know the impact, it may be minimal or it may be massive. It could just be what that person needed to help them make the huge decision about whether to transition or not.

The key thing is for me is that it’s not about me, but, it is about advocacy, about changing the conversations, about doing my bit in making a world where people feel safe to make a decision to live authentically and to be their true selves.

Being visible, for me, is vitally important, and if you have the capacity to do so I encourage you to be as visible and out and proud as you can. We have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of or to hide. Yes we must, absolutely must look after our personal safety and security first and foremost, and, whenever and wherever we can, I believe we should be out, visible, proud and FABULOUS!

Silence Screams!

Actions speak louder than words. A nice little potted saying that I have heard stated so many times throughout my life. Especially so in my childhood years. And yet, to me, it wasn’t the actions that spoke louder than words it was the words, or the lack there of that spoke loudest. It was the silence that screamed, so loudly it screamed into the core of my very being.

Silence screams loudly. It screams loudly everytime a bystander watches a human person being abused or victimised, it screams everytime a family member stands by and says nothing, it screams loud and clear, accusing the victim of worthlessness, unworthiness, and blame to name just a few.

Silence screams too even when the vitim of bullying, abuse, assault etc are confided in after the event by people that what they endured is wrong. It screams perhaps even more loudly as it says we see this wrong and yet we choose not speak, it says to the victim you are not worthy of me risking my personal comfort to speak out against wrong.

The screaming silence, the deafening yell of this silence leaves victims in dangerous places. It says tacitly to abusers — don’t worry we won’t say anything.

How many lives could have been saved, how many acts of abuse could have been stopped if people stopped screaming in silence and opened their mouths and spoke up, said this is not ok.

I know a little about being bullied, I experienced relentlessly in my home life, my school life, my work life. I know about abuse I experienced it at home and at school and in relationships. One of the most detrimental things in those experiences was the realisation that nobody was prepared to say anything, people stood by, saw it, realised what it was and yet stood by and allowed their silence to scream loudly at me that I was not worthy of being rescued.

I wasn’t without safe people, they were there but they didn’t speak out. They would tell me quietly that they saw it, that they knew it was horrible. But they never spoke out. I guess their own reasons for not doing so were complex and nuanced, but that complexity and nuance does not excuse the silence. It does not excuse the inaction, it does not excuse the leaving of me in unsafe, violent and abusive situations.

My grandmother, my cousins, my uncles and aunts have said to me often how they would talk about the terrible, unfair and abusive treatment I received, particularly at the hands of my father. This was a double edged sword, it had a positive effect in that it made it clear to me that my inner life that kept telling me how wrong what I was experiencing was, and yet, it left me hurt and angry with them too that they didn’t say anything do anything to intervene, to stop, to save or to get me out of that situation.

I asked once why that was so, well actually I asked a number of times why they never did anything. The reasons given were that they didn’t feel it was their place. Well on this I call bullshit. It’s absolutely a steaming pile of bullshit that it is not our place to step in to protect other humans in danger.

The screaming silence of not my concern, not my place, nothing to do with me must be stopped, it must be excised from our experience. It is absolutely our place to step in, to speak up for the vulnerable, the abused and the bullied.

I started with an old saying and I will finish with another — The standard you are prepared to walk past is the standard you are prepared to accept.

We must no longer be prepared to walk past and accept a standard that allows our fellow humans to be abused, victimised, bullied, assaulted and dehumanised.

Surely it is time for silence to stop screaming and our voices rise to speak out for justice.

The fundamental basis for acceptance should be each other’s humanity.

You know that experience when you go to a party, a meet up of some kind, well, any kind of gathering really. It’s that moment when you meet someone new and the questions begin. So, what do you do for a living, where you from, what do you drive. Seemingly innocuous questions, and yet in reality they are far from it.

What they always seem to me is an assessment of whether you are an acceptable person to know, whether you are worth taking the effort to get to know better. As though the answers to these basic questions sum up in a couple of minutes whether or not I am worthy of acceptance.

Humans it seems, at least it seems the humans of the western world seem to hone this skill from a very early age. By the time we enter the school yard we have already got this skill pretty much down.

The last few days I have been reminded of an event that happened to me in primary school, which, I think, demonstrates this quite well. My school life was quite transient, by the time I was in the 4th grade of school I was at my 4th school. I felt like I was the perpetual new kid in the class. Of course, teachers did their best to see me included, but as a child that had by the time they began school already endured significant trauma, couldn’t work out why it was they felt different to everyone else and had been a target of bullying in every social situation I found myself in, it seemed no matter what the teacher tried acceptance was simply not an option.

One thing I know for sure is that bullies have a radar for victims. It’s as though we have a big V for victim painted on our foreheads that only the bullies can see, but see it they do.

I tried everything to be accepted during school. Nine times out of ten I failed. I tried starting fights, stealing, trying to be good, trying to be bad, giving away my lunch. But none of it worked, for anything more than fleeting moments. It was never enough to be enduring.

There was one thing that happened in Grade 4. I received from my grandparents a new cricket bat for my birthday. It was a wonderful cricket bat. I loved it, I took it to bed with me on the night I received it. During that year of school our teacher used to take us out to the school oval for a modified game of cricket a couple of times a week. There was this one time, when for some reason there was only one cricket bat in the kit and so we were short of a bat to use for the game.

At this time, I lived in a home that adjoined the school property, we even had a little gate in our back fence to give us access into the school. Well, anyway, I said to my teacher I could run home and get my cricket bat. I think somewhere in my mind was this would make me the saviour of the game and thus avoiding returning to the classroom to do dreaded school work. I was kind of correct, my teacher gave permission and I ran like the wind across the school yard through the gate down to our garage and grabbed my bat and sprinted back to school with it.

I felt triumphant. I smiled deeply on my face and deeply within myself as the class cheered as I returned with the bat. After that day, I never attended school without that bat with me. That bat had a magical power of providing me acceptance. Of course, that acceptance was somewhat fleeting. It only applied when cricket games were on. It certainly wasn’t enduring.

How is it that we have allowed ourselves to get to this place? A place where we rate as acceptable those we inhabit this earth with on the basis of their possessions, their income potential. Essentially, we consider a person acceptable not on the basis of humanity but on the basis of their potential to provide something to us.

It’s a terrible indictment on what we have become.

How is it we have allowed the humanity of each other to not be the defining factor of our acceptance of each other. That we decide on the basis of a person’s possessions, health, and career rather than on the fact that they are human that they are or are not worth accepting as fellow travellers of life.

I believe it is this that has allowed us to descend into a situation where we make judgments on people’s value on the basis of their ability. At times this judgment is so sharp it determines if we allow a fellow human to even exist or begin their life on this earth.

For some, on the basis, not of their humanity, but on their neurology, we judge them deficient, broken, diseased etc. We refuse to accept people for who they are as human persons because of difference. We other them, to the point they are isolated, bullied and abused; that they question their worth constantly, and often struggle with mental health issues for the bulk of their lives.

Surely this must stop. Surely this is a road to ruin. A ruin of the very humanity each of us possess. A road that leads to the breakdown of society as we know it. Maybe not today, maybe not next year or even next decade, but certainly we are on that trajectory. We must stop this. We must start looking to the humanity of the people we inhabit this world with and value it.

A person’s disability, sexuality, gender identity does not make them worthy or unworthy of acceptance. It is a person’s humanity that makes them inherently worthy of acceptance. The rest, well that just adds to the wondrous diversity of what it is to be human and share this planet with other humans.

What a completely inferior place this earth would be if we were all the same, if we were all moulded from our own self-image.

Wouldn’t it be grand if acceptance of each other on the basis of our shared humanity went viral?

Will you stand and wave our flag as we did yours?

Over the last few months in Australia there’s been a lot of waving of rainbow flags. And with good reason, the campaign for Marriage Equality certainly was worth it. The Australian LGBTIQ+ community came together with the support of many allies to win human rights and equality in terms of our relationships being equal before the law.

As a community we were subjected to a campaign of public opinion, our lives, our very existence, was left wide open to be debated in the public realm by anyone and everyone. Such was the pitiful excuse for leadership from the ruling governement.

No matter how much the powers at be try to tell everyone it was an overwhelming success, that the public debate was respectful and decent. It wasn’t. It was horrible. It was impossible to open a newspaper, a news website or a social media feed without seeing unbridled bigotry towards LGBTIQ+ people.

The homophobic and transphobic diatribes were relentless. And heaven forbid how you would be if you actually visited any comment feeds on these sites. A strong and robust emotional suit of armour was certainly required. The actual campaign was about 8 weeks, it felt like 8 terrible years.

There is a question in the air of ‘was it worth it?’ There isn’t an easy answer to this. In a sense on Thursday afternoon at a smidgeon before 6pm Marriage Equality became law in Australia, and in that sense, yes, the pain was worth it.

The cost though is incalculable.

Not just a financial cost but a human cost. The LGBTQI+ community bared an intense and hurtful period where our very existence was continually called into question. Many service agencies made note of the sharp increase of LGBTIQ+ people seeking out mental health and support services. I am sure the cost to the health care system was massive, both in financial and in human cost.

The cost is incalculable and the LGBTQI+ community continue to pay it. Because the campaign may be over but the bigotry sure hasn’t stopped.

From the very start of the campaign the tactics of the No side of the campaign were very clear. They set their sites very clearly against the Trans community. The very first thing we say was a TV commercial with a mother claiming their child’s school had told her son he could wear a dress if he liked.

Add after add targeted the Trans and Gender diverse communities directly. Attacking us at every turn possible. Throwing around lines such as Radical Gender Theory, GenderFluidity, SafeSchools like weapons. Our own language and programs developed to support us were weaponised against us.

Somehow we endured and have emerged from this campaign scared but victorious. Legislation has happened and Marriage Equality is now the law of the land.

Here’s the thing though, the trans and gender diverse communities in this country are hurting. We stood and waved our flags and your flags because this was about equality, this was about human rights. I as a trans person now, though, ask, plead and hope wholeheartedly that the rest of the LGBTQI+ communities are ready to stand with us and wave our flags with us. Becuase as much as you needed us, perhaps even more so, we need you.

It’s telling, perhaps, that at my workplace, a very LGBTIQ+ safe and supporting workplace, that on the 15th November something like 70–80 people crammed into a ‘Rainbow Room’ to hear the results of the horrendous non binding postal survey. Shouts and cheers and tears and hugs abounded when the result was announced. It was a most memerable moment, perhaps one of the most memorable and important moments of my lifetime. It was wonderful.

But, here’s the thing, the telling thing.

Just 5 days later on November 20th Transgender Day of Rememberance, at that same workplace, that same supportive workplace, we gathered in a room that comfortably holds a few hundred people to pause and remember those trans humans who have lost lives due to transphobia. On that day in that place we had a small select group of perhaps up to 30 people gathered to take stock and remember.

The contrast as a trans woman who did what they could to support the campaign over the previous few months, was stark. It was another reminder that the T in the acronym is still very much fighting for acceptance in a way the L and the G in particular do not have to anymore.

What is evident currently in Australian society is that the LG part of the community have achieved much. The BTIQ+ have still a massive fight for human rights ahead of them.

Already it is clear that the defeated No campaign who had already targeted us T people throughout the campaign are already turning their bigotry and hate against us even more pointedly. They squarely point to us as the ‘Consequence’ of marriage equality. It is a certaintly that the fight for Trans and gender diverse rights is truly upon us. Already we have seen the targeted campaign against the anti LGBTIQ+ anti-bullying program Safe Schools targeted, and the target on that program just got bigger with the loss of their hateful fight against Marriage Equality.

What is certain is tht Marriage Equality should be rightly and roundly celebrated. This is a significan and wonderful victory for our community. What is also certain is that their are many fronts still to fight. Intersex Trans and Gender Diverse rights is a key front where attack from the right is already happenning.

As we celebrate marriage equality, as we drink it in, bask in it, get ready for all the weddings, let’s do so with the biggest of smiles and warmest of joys.

But too, please, remember, the Trans community in particular is hurting and needs support. Throughout this campaign we stood side by side waving your flag and ours, as our existence and rights were targeted relentlessly we stood with you waving the flags in solidarity, even when the attacks on us went unanswered by many in the wider LGBTIQ+ we continued and continue to stand side by side with our siblings, our tribe.

The question then, is will you stand by our sides, waving our flag and your flag in solidarity with us. Will you stand with us? Will you call out the bigotry and hatred against us where and when you see it? Will you stand in solidarity for our human rights.

We’re hurting, we need you. Please, pick up a pink and blue and white striped flag and wave it with us.

Let’s not box people in…

Tonight, when I purchased my box of noodles together I noticed that the lovely noodle shop man, always says the same sentence as one leaves. Yes, I have purchased quite a few noodle box meals. I caught myself wondering to myself about this man’s little script. Was it a sign, was it a tell-tale hint that perhaps this man might be autistic.

As I walked to my car I chastised myself for that thought. I’ve noticed how often in autistic spaces there are discussions where speculation about people we know might be on the Autism spectrum. They always seem innocent enough, and when these people we discuss are people we know well, possibly even intimately, then perhaps we have a level of insight that might allow us to make such a judgment with some level of accuracy. In some respects, this is just a natural thing.

But, to make such judgments, about people we hardly know, seems, as I reflect on it now, just as bad as the stereotypes and so on that we autistic people tend to find problematic as they are made about us by non-autistic folk.

It’s almost as though what we are doing is the autistic equivalent of those non-autistic micro aggressions like- “well everybody’s a little bit autistic”, or “well that was a bit autistic”, or even “I think I am a bit on the spectrum”. Perhaps we should pay a bit more respect to the complexity of all that goes into diagnosis, whether that be a professional diagnosis or a self-identification.

I had this thought myself, just tonight, so I can count myself as nothing but guilty as charged. From now on I am going to attempt not to do this anymore. I am sure this will be a challenge as autism is such a massive aspect of my life, not just being autistic but in doing advocacy for myself and others, spending time with autistic friends and attending and speaking at autism conferences, and not least being a part of the implementation of an employment program for autistic people.

It’s easy to think this is not a big thing, and I guess in some respects it isn’t really, it’s just a thought we have, that we sometimes share and speculate with our friends about. No biggie really. Well maybe it is a bit more of a biggie than we think.

Being autistic, living as an autistic, is the only thing I know. It’s not a deficit or anything like that, though, dealing with how society relates to me, dealing with stereotypes imposed upon me and everything that goes with that can make negotiating the world more difficult than it needs to be.

The non-autistic world would kind of like it if we autistics just stopped being autistic and be more like the rest of the world. Many of us autistics tend to react to that pretty negatively. Let us be who we are is often the message we try to convey to the non-autistic world. We are not disordered we are different, indeed, Different Not Less is often the catch cry.

So, then, should we not be the same for those that are not autistic too. Is our making assumptions or presumptions about others just our way of imposing an autistic order upon them, our surreptitious way of imposing expectations of their behaviours based on our own stereotypes?

Just as we proclaim we are different not less, it is incumbent on us autistics to accept too that the non-autistic population of this world we inhabit are also different not less. Just as we are, so too are they. They may outnumber us, but that doesn’t change that they too are different not less and it is, I think, as incumbent on us to not impose our view of the best way to negotiate the world onto the non-autistic world.

Perhaps live and let live is a nice little maxim to live by after all.

Searching for Solace

Today, I just have a need to write something. It will be whatever it will be. These last few days have been incredibly emotional, I am not great at identifying emotional stuff within me much beyond happy and sad, angry and and pleased. Going further than this into the nuances of emotions is a thing I struggle with.

It’s not that I struggle to know that these words that I have are inadequate to describe the feelings and emotions I am experiencing. I know fully that these are not adequate descriptors and I feel the nuances and the extreme fluctuations in my feelings and emotions. Naming that however is much more difficult a task. A task that is not much more than a stab in the dark for a word that might fit.

It’s the last day of the what is colloquially known in Melbourne as Cup weekend. It’s a bit of an unofficial four day weekend in Melbourne. The first Tuesday in November is when the famous Melbourne Cup horse race is run, and for residents of Melbourne that Tuesday is an official public holiday. What invariably happens is many people take the Monday as an extra day off and make it a four day weekend.

Primed for a relaxing and enjoyable weekend, I was planning to work the Monday, but nevertheless have a good weekend with some time spent with my kids as well as chill out time for myself, I arrived after a bit of a sleep in and a lazy late morning coffee at a local cafe at my former partners home to catch up with my kids.

I was not ready for what greeted me. News that my former father in law, does someone really ever become a former father in law? Well he was in hospital and the new was that he was dying, it was just a matter of time. I was somewhat shell shocked and shattered at this news.

My former partner was resting after spending all night with her father. It was by all accounts harrowing. Her dad had gone into a state of delerium and it was tough to hear some things, and bizzare too off course.

I suppose, I am not sure what the process really was for me, but I seemed to click into being a supportive person to my ex and of course my kids. It was as though this just happened, it wasn’t as if a consious thing happened. It just was what it was.

The next couple of days really through to Monday morning, I spent with my kids and ensuring my ex had what she needed as she negotiated this time with her dad. I did my best to be strong and supportive for my kids and my former partner. I think that overall I did a good job.

I ended up taking Monday off work after getting the news he had died at 1am in the morning. I felt I needed to be there, to support, in whatever way I could my kids, my former partner. I wasn’t sure how that was going to go down but I needed to do it.

Well it turned out they just wanted space and I was pretty much on my own. In that I realised that I was beginning to grieve myself. I had held it together for the others and not thought about my own feelings and emotional responses.

The relationship I had with my father in law had been fractured at times, and yet, we both loved each other. He had wanted to be a father to me, and I had wanted him to be. My own father was incredibly abusive and I went no contact with him many years ago. With my father in law, though, it seemed matching up our complimentary desires never quite worked out in reality. Some of it of course was my fault and some of course was circumstance and some of course was his projections of what I should be, and of course my receiving of those projections in a distorted and twisted sense of what they were.

We shared times of joy and laughter. Unfortunately we also shared times of hurt and judgement at each other. This was exacerbated when the relationship with my former partner fell apart, and my transition as a trans woman was something he really struggled to accept. There was one occassion that was extremely difficult, in anger and raised voices he called my by my birth name repeatedly getting louder as I refused to answer, he demanded I stand up and be a man, and asked my former partner if he ‘had’ to use my chosen name.

It was an incredibly traumatic day. It hurt deeply, and I wasn’t sure what the future held for us.

I only got to see him a few times after this, and thankfully they were positive exchanged. My transness was kind of just not mentioned and somehow we muddled through.

I know it is only a short timeframe since it happened, I get that, but I have this feeling of not knowing where to place my own grief in this situation. Almost as though I am meant not to have this, but I do, and that is what it is.

It is as though I have to forget it all and be the supportive one, be with the kids, provide the space and support for the rest of the family and somehow not have any support thrown back to me by them. It’s really hard.

I am hurting, and finding the words to name that hurt is difficult, naming the feelings and emotions is difficult. All I know is that they are raw, deep and painful.

In a couple of days is the funeral. Internally I have questions raging about how I present at the funeral, am I truly welcome even? I will have to travel from work to attend the funeral and so another layer of complexity to that quetion of presentation is added. If I just wasn’t going to work that day, I guess I could just present in some kind of androgynous way, not because it is the way I want to present but, really, if I am honest, because it would be easier, easier for me and definitely easier for the family.

I have been presenting full time as a woman for more than a year now, and the idea of presenting as anything different feels like a kind of betrayal of myself. I have never presented as anything but female at work and so it would be somewhat out of the box to be doing anything other than that.

Where I am at I guess, at this point, is in a place of pain, a place of trying to understand that and process it. Process the complexity of the relationship I had with my father in law, for all its difficulties the reality is that his loss is a great source of pain.

I wish I could more easily name the things that I feel, I wish I could, but it seems very very difficult and I am not sure how to proceed.

I’m hurting and looking for solace I guess. I wonder where it will come from. I know it will come, but from where at this point is something of a mystery.