The waiting game…

The waiting game is hard. The internal dialogue that runs around and around whilst you wait, well, it’s a bit never ending. It runs in all directions, positive, negative and everything in between.

That dialogue can be completely convincing. Countering it with rational thinking can be in itself quite the emotional task.

It’s a task I am currently engaged in. I had a really great interview earlier in the week. I genuinely feel I did a reasonably good job in presenting myself and connecting and building rapport with the person interviewing me.

There was positive discussion about the role and how I would fit in to it and it all felt, at the time really, really good. Almost as though it was in the bag. Of course, I dare not actually believe that it really is the case, lest I be setting myself up for yet another disappointment.

I sent off a thank you email the day after and received a positive reply. Confirming as we discussed I would hear more later in the week and to reach out if I hadn’t heard anything.

But the waiting game….

The interview was Monday afternoon, and it’s now mid Wednesday, so the wait is hardly anytime at all and yet it feel and seems like it has been several days, many days in between.

My head is kind of doing me in.

Rational thinking is what is needed. Analytical thinking about how it went, what the process from here is. Centring myself in the known things, the actual things that were said, the actual things said and not said.

Focus on those things, and waiting is the task ahead over the next few days.

Ah the waiting game. It does things to your head and your heart. Just focus on the positives. Focus on the things known and the way ahead.

The waiting game it has me in its clutches just now.

Functioning Labels – What are they good for.

Autistic people are described by functioning labels all the time. They are used by clinicians as short hand, they are used by parents to make things sound better or worse to others, they are used by diagnosticians to try to be more palatable when giving a parent a diagnosis.

The question I ask is What are they good for – cue the music – absolutely nothing.

Well not exactly nothing. I mean it is actually true that the diagnosis of autism is itself a functioning label. As an autistic person I know it is actually a lot more than that. I know with a surety that it is the way I am wired, the way my brain works, the way I think, feel, experience and do life. But the fact remains the diagnosis of autism is the observation and interpretation of functioning and behaviour.

So I think, there’s my answer. Functioning labels what are they good for? – A diagnosis, maybe some funding, perhaps access to some services.

If that’s true, that a label can provide such access then functioning labels good right. Well, yes, but no.

Just one functioning label. The word autism. That’s it. Nothing further is required.

There’s a real reason for this. Autistic function is not static. It changes. And it changes all the time. Not just year to year, not just month to month or week to week, but it can change moment to moment and second to second.

With this being a thing to try to box a person up with a functioning label is just simply a false thing to do. Not only that it treats a person, a human being, as if they were just something to be described, to be assigned a particular label and not treated with dignity respect and not given the same access to basic human rights all human persons are entitled to.

Functioning labels other us. Functioning labels silence us. They are used to say what we can and can’t do. They are used to ascribe a sense of permanence of what we will and won’t achieve in life.

Quite frankly, they are just bullshit.

And the really crazy part of all this, the most common functioning labels we are saddled with, Low Functioning and High Functioning. Well, they aren’t now and never have been diagnostic terms or labels described in the official diagnostic manual the DSM, currently DSM5.

Sometime in the history of diagnosing autism, clinicians seem to have got the idea that calling a child high functioning was kinder or more palatable to the parents. It’s easy to see why that might seem to be the case. But it is of no benefit to the autistic person at all.

In a cruel twist of circumstance, the difference between these two labels has come to mean, in the minds of many, whether or not one has the ability to speak with their mouth parts. To that we must call bullshit.

If the ability to speak with one’s mouth parts, is an indicator of functioning level then quick, someone better go tell Stephen Hawking.

Another cruel twist of circumstance has meant those labelled with low functioning, because of this lack of speech with their mouth, have also been assumed to not amount to anything, treated as if they are a non-person and have their human rights ignored and breached on a constant basis.

This must stop.

When it comes down to the essence. Functioning Labels are not to the benefit of the person to whom they are applied. They are to the benefit of those around them, their parents, therapists, diagnosticians and so forth.

In terms of the autistic person, beyond diagnosis, they are good for essentially absolutely nothin.

Autistic Burnout I bid you good day!

I’m sitting in a little cafe, these words are hard to write. They don’t flow in the same way as they normally seem to. My stomach is leaping and bounding and whirling with that phenomenon known as ‘having butterflies’.

It’s an apt metaphor, it really does feel like things are flying around in there.

Today I have an interview, it’s the first interview I have had in quite some time. I am as they say somewhat shitting myself.

It’s not just the first interview in a long time it’s the first interview since coming out and starting my transition. The decision process of what to wear was all new, in the past not so much.

This is one of those times, where, being visible, being out, being public; well it’s one of those times when it’s all really real. It’s kind of like putting yourself out there on a slab to be judged.

I mean, well that’s the interview process anyway I guess. But it’s kind of feeling like, it’s a double whammy of that. On the slab to be judged worthy or not as a worker and also at the same time as to how I pass, or don’t etc.

Yet, at the same time, I am aware that this company I am interviewing for are awesome in terms of diversity. Especially it seems in terms of their support for LGBTIQA+ people. So, in that respect, I feel pretty OK.

In another aspect is the being autistic part. And, I am told, they specifically want to employ an autistic person. It seems I meet up on all the diversity factors of being a suitable candidate for this position.

The question is, then, will I measure up as a suitable candidate as a worker for this position. Thankfully the person interviewing me, has two autistic children, and from that perspective, will have some insight.

It might be easy, reading this, to think I am being a little negative about all this. Nothing could be further from the truth. I am actually really positive that this will be a good experience, and hopefully a positive outcome.

The thing is, though, of course, that doesn’t change that it’s a really nerve inducing situation. As a person who deals with Dysthymia and Generalised Anxiety as well as everything that goes with living as an autistic in a neurotypical world, I don’t think it is going too far to say it is an anxiety inducing event.

It’s been some time since I had a normal kind of job. I’ve done some bits and pieces here and there. I have had caring responsibilities at times which have precluded going out to work, but this being out of the employment system for a few years makes it all a bit scary in finding my way back in.

I mean there are things that are hard to explain. Like the massive gaps in work history. Like explaining that you have spent a few years in recovery from autistic burnout, and your most recent position, which is in itself a few years ago, you left in a cloud of meltdown.

Having said all that, it actually feels like this is the best chance I have had in a long time of getting some employment again. I am actually a good worker. I believe autistic people generally are good workers. Personally what I find to be the case is once I am in a job, understand what is required of me, I get in and do it, and for the most part, do a pretty darn good job at it.

Doing the work, has never been the issue for me at all. It’s all the other stuff, the hidden workplace curriculum. It’s a curriculum that the neurotypical mind just seems to get, to understand innately somehow. But for the autistic person, this one anyway, it’s like the old saying ‘it’s all Greek to me’.

Autistic burnout has been an interesting journey. It’s one that has actually taken me quite some time to recognise in myself. And, I think it is a fertile ground for research to gain some insight and understanding.

It actually took me a long time to realise that I was in fact experiencing this burnout. It’s a kind of intangible sense, feeling, way of being. On one level functioning is fine. I could care for kids, exist in the home, write blogs and articles and even do a little bit of work from home here and there. For example working on some websites for people, working on transcription bases typing jobs.

So this burnout, wasn’t a total not able to function at all burnout. It has been something different. Something that debilitated in bits and pieces. It fluctuates and changes how you manage depending on the thing you are trying to actually do.

As listed there have been a bunch of things I could do, and do reasonably well. However, when it came time to open a JobSearch website and look for a job, to sit in front of a word document to rewrite my CV, a debilitating force seemed to overcome me.

It’s amazing how long one can stare at a blank word document. It was as though a force like extreme writer’s block was coursing through me.

Perhaps the most difficult part of all that was that it actually took until really the beginning of this year, just about five or six months ago, that I was experiencing this situation.

I would be encouraged by friends and family to try harder, and they had the best intentions I know, but the debilitation was seemingly impossible to explain. Even more so, it seemed, because functioning in so many other areas of life was actually going ok.

I would be given the expectation by the Government Unemployment service to be looking for work. I had activity requirements to meet in order to qualify for the payments I was receiving. I get that that’s the right thing too.

Meeting those requirements was debilitating, it found me in front of the doctor, then the Psychiatrist trying to explain how debilitated I was. I was not disabled enough to claim disability, but kind of not able enough to manage to look for and find work.

It’s been a somewhat long and arduous journey to get to the point I am at today. A demarcation point where, the journey changes. Regardless of the outcome, something internal has changed.

No longer is the whole idea debilitating me, leaving me staring at a blank document with a seeming inability to add details to it. The very idea, the very reality of having an actual interview has changed everything.

Suddenly, sitting here as an autistic, transgender woman, an hour out from their first interview for a long time, I feel a sense of hope, positivity and eagerness for the future.

Regardless of the outcome today, it kind of feels like today is the day I have emerged finally from the tendrils of autistic burnout that have held me so tightly for so long.

Of course, my stomach is still dancing a storm. I am still nervous as hell. I am still worried about the things like maintaining the right amount of eye contact, not talking too long, not being negative about past experiences, being positive about my strengths of character, and my skill set.

It’s been a wild ride, a long journey. There has been a lot of pain, frustration confusion and struggle. But it’s over.

Autistic Burnout, I bid you good day.

Once again, the discussion of Autistic adults was neglected.

Autism, is once again, in the public eye, and it’s not even April. And no I’m not just talking about fidget cubes and fidget spinners. No this time it is all about diagnosis. Well it was, this week on one of our national Television stations. It was not, I was pleasantly surprised by this, a terrible program.

The program Insight, was on diagnosing autism. Which is, in Australia a topical discussion as the rollout of the National Disability Insurance Scheme continues to roll out across the country. In the wake of the NDIS discovering the size of their autistic client base, and the discovery of a lack of national standardised practice in the method and mode of diagnosing autism across the country.

The show highlighted well, many of the issues of how differently autism is diagnosed across the country, how in some states it must involve a panel of clinicians and others a single doctor can make the call.

The participants in the program effectively communicated the difficulties in the process, the difficulties when a family moves from one state jurisdiction to another jurisdiction.

Discussion of how difficult it can be to obtain a diagnosis, especially for girls was thoughtful, and at times, heart wrenching.

Of course the question of prevalence, over diagnosis, and misdiagnosis were passionate parts of the discussion. Over all I would compliment Insight on an overall well done discussion in terms of diagnosing Autism in children.

There were two autistics given a voice, a small voice, but a voice of sorts. A young autistic man closed the show off with a compelling speech of how we as autistics are not broken, sick, diseased and in need of cure. We are different, we are not problems, there’s not something wrong with us, but, it’s the rest of you that need to catch up with us.

The show was entitled diagnosis Autism, and so it really was beyond the scope to talk about support, accomodation, life options and so on for autistic people. It would be wonderful to see Insight do a show on some of those issues. It would be a well needed conversation that could be had on a national stage.

However, having said all of that, notably absent, yet again, in a conversation about autism, was the question of diagnosis for adults. The rise in prevalence of autism numbers in this country is not all that more kids are being diagnosed, but also, that as those kids are diagnosed, that their parents recognise that they might just be autistic too.

I suppose, what happens, is we, see ourselves in the things our kids are experiencing, in how they explain their world and so on. The question of our own neurology and if perhaps we might be autistic ourselves, starts to burn within us.

For many of us, little was known about autism, other than the specialists in the field, when we were kids. The diagnosis just wasn’t there for us. And in many ways, it still isn’t. Well, it’s there, but it’s as if it is unattainable.

For adults to obtain a diagnosis in Australia, there is no standard method, there is few places to turn for information within the establishment of clinicians and diagnosticians. We turn instead to that ubiquitous monster of information, both reputable and not reputable, known as the internet.

We read blogs, we join forums, we take online tests. We learn what is true and we often stop there and identify as Autistic. No we may not have the piece of paper, but for many this is either enough for us, or, it’s all we have the means to access.

Personally, I got to this point, and felt it wasn’t enough. I like to know for sure, I needed confirmation. I went looking for an official diagnosis.

I learned very quickly that services to diagnose adults are few and far between and the ones that are out there are expensive.

My journey to an official diagnosis began with a call to my state autism peak body. They were able to offer virtually no assistance at all. They did email me a list of psychologists that diagnosed autism. Many of them did not work with adults. There was no guidance on which might be helpful or what the costs might be.

I was fortunate though, the psychologist involved in my youngest daughters diagnosis was someone I felt comfortable enough to talk to. I kind of came out to her about being pretty convinced that I too was autistic. She showed non surprise at this information, and was caring and helpful.

She didn’t have experience in diagnosing adults, but she was able to put me in contact with another psychologist who was.

Actually obtaining that diagnosis was, though, an expensive process. In a country with a universal health care system, obtaining a diagnosis for an adult has zero financial assistance. There are no rebates, no bulk billing, no insurance to cover it.

The process of diagnosis is not a quick ten minute appointment either, it is a multi-visit, prolonged process involving a battery of assessment instruments. It’s also an utterly exhausting process.

The cost in this country for an adult to gain an official diagnosis is in the range of around $1000. It’s not cheap by any stretch of the imagination.

Add to that, that, the employment rate for Autistic adults is 40%, and that’s not necessarily full time employment, it could be as little as 5 or 6 hours a week of casual work.

Add to that, that many adults seeking diagnosis are already financially stressed in providing the support and services their already diagnosed children require.

And that, readers, I believe, is the elephant in the room. As autism has caught the national interest, the worldwide interest, the conversation continues to centre around young children, and occasionally young adults. Neglected and ignored are the cohort of adults who never had a name for what it was that made them different to others, and mark my words, we always knew we were different.

Obviously it is critical to provide services for children and young adults who are autistic. It’s important, we want the very best for these human persons. It’s good and right and proper that we do everything we can to promote the best life outcomes for all children.

The question, I have seen asked a little bit, is what about when kids age out. This is a pertinent question, and we are seeing some programs rise up to answer this question.

The question that is not being asked on the national and international arena of autism though, is, what about all those that have already aged out of the system.

We have had to work very hard to try and fit in, to try and do what we were meant to do. We have done it without supports, without accomodation, and certainly without understanding and acceptance. Some of us have done a pretty great job of it and managed to be somewhat successful. Many of us have not. The employment rates show this up clearly for all to see.

There are more than a few of us that for quite some time, looked like we were doing well, and in a sense we were. Unfortunately the exhaustion catches up, the pretence of playing at being neurotypical becomes too much and we lurch into meltdown, shutdown and burnout.

A key theme in the program, was that in the impact of diagnosis is the allocating of supports and accomodations. Without diagnosis these supports remain unattainable.

The question then, of course, is, if diagnosis for children leads to support for them to be the best they can be, wouldn’t it then be the same for the diagnosis of adults.

It seems, that, in the national conversation about diagnosis, that we who have aged out have again, yet again, been forgotten at best, or is it more insidious and we have been deliberately ignored.

It could seem a bit narcissistic of course, a bit, what about me and all, but it’s a genuine question.

What about those who’ve already aged out of the system? What are we going to do for them? How can we help them live the best lives they can? How can we accomodate, support, and assist them to be active, productive and contributors to society?

And of course, why aren’t we listening to them more closely and heeding what we can learn?

It’s Astounding but true.

I’m an Aussie, born here, never left here. There are things about this place that I love. There are things about this place that are frustrating beyond all measure.

Some really great things got their start here in this country, like, awesome things, like Microsurgery, yeah, you know, like sewing fingers and toes back on.

There are other great things here too, like the fact we have a universal health care system. It’s not perfect, and some would like to see that change, and break it, but so far it stand as a functional if not perfect system.

We have a welfare state, in the view of some it would be considered socialism, but it isn’t that, nothing like it. It’s a social democracy I guess. The welfare state is far from adequate in actually providing a living income to those that need it.

And yes we have our issues too. Lots of them. Every country does there is no utopia, it just doesn’t exist.

But today I remain astounded at the stupidity of how our federal government seems to work. I am reminded of it after seeing that Taiwan has made marriage equality a reality as I scrolled my newsfeed last night.

Overnight I have been thinking on this, and, perhaps the best description I have for how I feel is, after you ignore or the expletives that is, utterly astounded.

It is astounding that this is the case. That we still don’t have marriage equality. We as a nation sit politically with a government of an economic rationalism bent, but the leader of that government, our Prime Minister, has previously and regularly pronounced his support for marriage equality. We have a leader of the opposition also with declared support for marriage equality. And yet, astoundingly we don’t have marriage equality.

It’s a pretty simple thing for it to happen. Actually, it’s so simple it could probably be done in a day.

What’s required is a change to The Marriage Act of Australia. – Nothing complex like a constitutional change, nothing ongoing and long fought out like legal proceedings in through our court systems. No, just a simple change in our Marriage Act.

Currently the act has the words – a man and a woman as a caveat of the two people marrying. Strangely enough this line itself was added only in the last 15 years when a conservative Prime Minister was intent on thwarting state legislation. That change was done, very quickly and very quietly. With minimal debate, no public vote or anything of that kind.

And yet, our Prime Minister says in order to remove this and ensure that marriage equality is enshrined in the Act we must have a public vote on it. Even though, it’s not a constitutional change, and therefore it could not be a referendum and would need to be a plebiscite.

A non-binding plebiscite!

The issue of the plebiscite is nothing more than a delaying tactic being pushed and prodded forwards by the hard right within our ruling government party. They won’t be bound by the results of it, and so, it’s an expensive, pointless waste of everyone’s effort.

It’s a simple thing. A vote on the floor of parliament to approve a change of the Marriage act. Well two votes in fact, a vote in the lower House of Representatives, and then a vote in the upper house The Senate. We have in fact had votes on this in the past, they have failed, and not because the majority of our politicians don’t support it. No, because the Conservative party rulers have refused to allow their members to vote according to their conscience.

Meanwhile, LGBTIQA+ people wait, hope and long for the same human right to marry the one they love that heterosexual people have. They long for the same protections under the law. People are dying whilst waiting in hope to marry the one they love.

To my Australian government I implore you to understand that this is not your political play thing. This is people’s lives, hopes, dreams, families, love, and of course, human rights. Please, I implore you, stop playing games, stand up and be counted on the right side of history, on the side of equality, justice and humanity.

The state of things at this time are in fact a blight on this country. Not the only blight, don’t get me started on the treatment of refugees by successive governments, but a significant blight.

Australian politicians, regardless of party affiliation, it’s time to stop the bullshit, the games, the delays and obfuscations. It’s time to get into that building we pay you to be in and do what we pay you to do and make marriage equality a reality.

It’s astounding that this is still needing to be said.

What do we really mean when we say we’ve had an ‘aha’ moment?

The ‘aha’ moment. Lot’s of people seem to have had one, or at least claim to. What does it really mean though. Sudden clarity? Is it really reasonable to think we suddenly have ideas complete and formed just pop into our heads, complete and ready to be acted on?

I don’t actually think so. Well maybe in minor things, like ideas about what to wear, or ideas about a chair we want to buy for our home and, you know, minor things like that. Things that don’t have hugely important impact, on ourselves, our identity, our security or safety and what not.

I saw an article posted somewhere in the last couple of days, and I confess I didn’t read it through, I did skim it, I can’t recall what site it was on, other than it was shared within my social media feeds somewhere. The article was titled with something along the lines of when “I had that ‘aha’ moment in that I was abusing my husband”

The parts of the article I read don’t really talk about an aha moment as though it was a complete idea, in and of itself, but something of a culmination of thinking, reflecting, reacting and responding to stuff in her relationship. And that’s what I think an ‘aha’ moment actually is. It’s our conscious minds getting a bit of a handle on how we have been processing stuff internally, often with minimal awareness of that processing.

What we describe as the ‘aha’ moment really does feel unique, it certainly has a sense of suddenly realising a thing and suddenly being clear about a thing. It’s actually, well for me anyway, a little bit euphoric, a bit of a high.

The two most important ‘aha’ moments I have had in my life, are to do with my identity, and it stands to reason that moments of realisation and crystallisation on something as important as how we see ourselves are indeed going to be moments in which we do have a sense of a high, a sense of the euphoric.

The first of these moments was the day I sat in the rooms of the clinical psychologist who diagnosed me as Autistic. It really was a moment of clarity, a moment of understanding myself, a confirmation that I wasn’t actually imagining the way things were for me over all the years.

But to see this moment as a one off moment would be a mistake. In reality I had been moving to this moment for several years. I can track the first written thoughts about this to about 5 years prior to that moment. The fact that I had written even those few words of ‘maybe I’m autistic too’ in a little note on Evernote, likely indicates quite a bit of internal processing prior to that.

I have three offspring, both the eldest and the youngest are diagnosed autistic, and always have I been able to see elements of myself in them. My former partner had made this clear to me too, and even at times referred to things as I did as ‘your Aspie stuff’. This was long before I really thought about it for myself in any deliberate way.

A strange thing started to happen, I kept meeting adults autistic people. I kept seeing myself in them and the wondering kept niggling at me. Eventually I headed to google, and did some searching and reading. I already had a fair idea about things, through both being a teacher in the education system and being a parent of autistics.

Once I found some online tests, such as ‘The Aspie Quiz’ and ‘The AQ’ it seemed more than just likely that, yes, I really was Autistic, and no, it’s not just you imagining things.

Of course, though, me being me, wasn’t satisfied with the idea of being self identification, I wanted, and in a sense, needed, a professional to confirm it. So began the process that eventually led me to be sitting in those rooms with that psychologist and having that ‘aha’ moment about myself as I received the official confirmation of what I really already knew.

It wasn’t really an ‘aha’ moment so much as a whole bunch of moments coming to a fruition that made real clarity suddenly possible.

Another ‘aha’ moment, was the ‘aha’ moment of knowing I am a trans woman. It’s a kind of similar journey in a way. Almost as though, when I was ready to move beyond the repression of this identity and an understanding that was strongly influenced by a bigoted upbringing within a conservative evangelical Christian family.

I mean I never really got the whole man thing anyway, I never really got the whole boy thing, I would always prefer to be around the girls, I as a pre-teen would love to get the chance to hold and cuddle babies.

My childhood outworkings of my gender were very much pushed deep down inside never to be looked at, whilst I pretended to be the boy and man I was supposed to be. For the longest time, I tried and failed and tried again. It was never going to work though, it was, destined to fail.

Over the last two or three years, I kept meeting trans people, mainly online, but also in person too. I seemed to keep getting myself into conversations with a whole spectrum of gender divergent people. My understandings of what it was to be trans, what it meant, were being challenged, and pulled apart little by little.

Then about a year ago, I sat in a coffee shop, with my former partner and had a conversation with her about how I was questioning what my gender was. It was a hard conversation, and to say it was an ‘aha’ moment wouldn’t be reasonable, the ‘aha’ moment seemed to be over a bit of time. I had already, by this time, realised that I was definitely not a man, and I think this was, a kind of dipping my toe into the water and feeling the temperature sort of experience.

Some time went past, my partner went on a holiday, I experimented with some of her things, I joined forums, I asked questions, and I kept coming to the idea, the question, that, actually it is a bit more than just not being a man.

I distinctly remember the moment I actually came to believe and accept the truth of my gender as a trans woman, that I had actually always been a woman. It was a moment in front of the bathroom mirror. It really did feel like an ‘aha’ moment in that case, but again, I can’t simply isolate that as single moment either, because so much had to come before to get to that moment of clarity. And certainly there was more to come.

My wife come back from holidays and we had another conversation in another coffee shop. Then we didn’t talk about it, she was, to be honest, absolutely thrown by the whole thing. I tried to discuss things with her, but she was not at a place, she really just wanted it to all go away and stop.

We didn’t totally ignore it, we were having some therapy already, and so the focus of that shifted, and with the support of that therapy an understanding was reached.

And so whilst I can point to a point in time of realisation and acceptance in regard to both my neurodivergent identity and my transgender identity, they were both, very definitely culminations of things, events, thoughts, feeling, upbringing, and of course relationships.

As I have got to this point, I am left with the question rolling around my head, is there really any such thing as an actual ‘aha’ moment or is it just a thing we’ve come up with to explain our sense of clarity at a turning point or conclusion of journey of discovery.

It’s hard to believe we are still marching for this.

I’m sitting here in the safety of a local cafe, a short walk from my home. A place I am safe to be me. Of course it’s not perfect, rarely, if ever, is anything ever perfect. But it’s my place, I can be as femme as I like, max it up or tone it right down and it doesn’t matter.

This time tomorrow I will be preparing to march with other, for the simple right to marry the one I love. It’s kind of academic, given I am not in a relationship at the moment. But if I was, it would be with another woman, and here, in this land, this so-called progressive social democracy, this is not legal.

It is not legal here for people of the same sex to marry. Still. In 2017. The hard right of our Conservative party have held sway for a long time in wielding their power within their party to avoid our parliament ever voting on it.

We’ve had advocacy organisations claiming to protect the natural order of things, lobbying with all their might to avoid our parliament actually voting on this issue.

This could have been solved years ago. Our parliament have voted on it before. But this has continually failed due to the parties not allowing their members to vote according to their conscience.

Let’s ignore the fact, just for the moment that they should always be voting according to their conscience and the wishes of their constituents, but no, they vote according to party lines, which generally means the leaders wishes, or the power block that has the power to oust said leader.

Our Prime Minister, who, incidentally claims to personally support marriage equality, has a policy of a plebiscite, an exorbitantly expensive solution that would involve all citizens voting on the issue.

Many seem to think this is a good idea, and it is easy to mistake it for one, what better way to ensure the will of the people than to allow them to vote on it. Democracy at work right.

Except, a campaign for both a no vote and a yes vote would be hard fought, bruising and horrible for LGBTIQA+ people. We would be subjected, with no recourse to bigoted campaign advertisements, speeches, debates and dialogue. It would provide an environment where the bigoted minority who were inclined to use violence against us would feel empowered to do so. And in this case it is a minority.

We all already know that the majority of our people support marriage equality, poll after poll has confirmed this. The will of the people is known, so any plebiscite vote is dangerous for Queer people and a complete and total waste of money and everyone’s time.

Even more ridiculous, if you can fathom it, is the fact that this expensive voting exercise our Prime Minister Mr Turnbull wants us to engage in is not binding. So no matter the outcome, no matter it would most likely end up with a yes vote, the politicians would still have to vote in parliament to change the marriage act and the result of the plebiscite is not to be a binding factor on that vote.

Pretty much all that needs to happen, for marriage equality to be law in this country is for our politicians to stand up and in parliament and vote yes to make a change, an amendment, an addition to the Marriage Act.

It’s not that hard. It’s more simple than can be imagined. We don’t need a lengthy Supreme Court ruling, we don’t need any plebiscite or referendum. We just need our politicians to do what we pay them for and vote for the right thing.

For all the bluster and rubbish we have seen about a plebiscite and it needing to be that way, ignored conveniently is the fact that a Prime Minister in the early 2000’s inserted the words to the effect of between a man and a woman. He did this as states and territories more progressive than the federal government were enacting their own legislation to enact marriage equality. And he did this with no plebiscite, he did this as an act of bigotry, an act designed to render void marriages made in the states and territories. He certainly didn’t feel any need to gauge the will of the people in that case.

Come on Mr Turnbull, it’s time to cut the rhetoric, the bullshit and the fuckerry and have a free vote in parliament. It’s time to end the cishetero privilege of our Marriage Act. It’s time to end the discrimination that says, because I am gay, lesbian, bi, trans, non-binary that I can’t marry the one I love.

Cut the bullshit Turnbull, stand up to the right wing bigots, stare them down, do what you believe is right, bring this to a vote, a free vote for all members.

It’s time to end the discrimination and bigotry. It’s time to stand up for the progressive beliefs you claim to have.

It’s time Mr Turnbull to stop bowing down and throwing your ideals out the window because you are scared of being rolled. Stand up Mr Turnbull and actually lead this country, because so far since you took over from Mr Abbott not much is that different. He may as well still be in power pushing his bigoted hard right agenda.

It’s time Mr Turnbull. Make marriage equality law. Do it now!

Potential, positivity and possibilities.

Anyone looking in to my life through a window over the past few years would have, I suspect, had an entertaining time. They would have seen so many twists and turns that in a sense, it would have made a good screenplay.

There has been much change, much loss, much gain, massive change. There has been trauma, joy and wonder. One thing for certain, although my life on a daily basis is not exactly a riveting sequence of events, over these past couple of years, amidst the mundane things of life has been shifts within me, and in my circumstances that are nothing short of monumental.

In many ways it has felt something of a roller coaster of good things and bad things. Like two sides of the coin with one being good consequences and the other negative ones. But of course it’s so much more complex than any kind of binary description can ever do justice.

About a year ago, I sat down with my partner and began the process of coming out transgender. It marked a moment in time, a moment where I allowed myself to verbalise something of the things within me that I had, in very real ways, been too scared to do. Suddenly the words were out there, they had been spoken and there marks the moment my transition really began.

It was as if this moment was a moment when suddenly all bets were off. It was a moment of opening Pandora’s box, and realising it couldn’t be closed again. It was open and flooding out came everything. All of it, all of the things held down, all of the things pushed down, all of the thoughts, feelings, desires. It was all laid bare, ready and waiting to be paid attention to.

I did pay attention, and I have been pushing forward in transition ever since. I could do nothing else. It was like unstoppable force met immutable object and the immutable object was swallowed up by the unstoppable force and onward we went.

Some have said my transition has been very fast. Well I guess it has so far. It has now slowed, I guess the speed thing, was in the accepting and taking on the reality that I was indeed a trans woman. Once I got to there, I couldn’t pretend anymore and so very quickly, within a few months I was presenting full time as my true gender.

With hindsight I can see how this was a hard thing for my family, but also, I can see that as time has gone on, the end result of where we are now would not have been able to be any different.

Fast forward to now, and here I am, I have endured much pain and loss, I no longer have a life partner as they were unable to continue to be with me, I have had to move out of the family home and begin making a life for myself all over again.

It’s been really fucking hard. I lost my role as carer for my daughter, and with a part of my parental identity. I’ve spent hours with counsellors, doctors, psychologists and so forth managing my transition and my mental health. It’s been tough, but I am emerging through it, and new possibilities arise.

It certainly hasn’t been all bad either, amidst the pain has always been the possibility and positivity of being the real me, of moving forward. People who have known me for long periods of time have commented on the weight that used to be obviously holding me down was gone, that I appeared lighter, happier and more confident.

And it is true. Of course, I don’t pretend that coming out and transitioning is all peaches and cream, because it isn’t. The reality is that every day as I live my life as a visible trans woman that I endure risk, that I am in a state of hypervigillance. A state where every whispered words between others is questioned, when each double take you observe leaves you wondering if you remain physically safe or not.

But in all of that is the day by day feeling of being more me than I have ever been. As time passes and I feel more at home in my own skin the possibility of success seems closer and more real than it ever has before. In pre transition life or since transition began.

Today is a good day. I got some great news, and for the first time in a long time, I feel genuinely excited about a possible employment opportunity. I feel genuinely positive that I an autistic, trans woman in the midst of transition, might just be able to smash down all those barriers to employment and begin to earn again, begins to be able to feel like a worthwhile contributor to society again.

For so long, far too long, it has felt largely and mostly hopeless. That I was destined to be reliant forever on government assistance, that by way of being autistic and transgender there were just too many barriers. But today, yes, today, and onwards I believe, or at least I am beginning to believe that, yes, just maybe, true acceptance is possible.

I can be accepted as an Autistic person and not be a drain and blight on the communities in which I am involved.

I can be accepted and not just tolerated as a trans woman in the communities I move in and out of and through.

Yes. More than tolerance is possible. Acceptance is possible, and who knows, maybe celebration is truly possible too.

When the possible drifts past, grab onto it with every fibre of hope and dreams you can. Not with the bullshit of positive thinking, but with every fibre of you being the best you can be. By being authentic, real, open and honest.

Yes, today I feel it just really is possible, because in a range of experiences over the past few years, I have been the most authentic me that I can be, I have stared Pandora’s open box and begun to answer the questions with an honesty that I had always hidden.

All I can say, I guess, is, be the best you that you can be, and that means, staring down the hard questions, the uncomfortable ones and being open, honest and real. It means being the you that you reserve for those dark and secret places within you, it means opening that secret place up a little and it means trusting. Trusting that you won’t self implode yourself to utter destruction.

Expectations are hard.

One thing about living life is there will always be expectations. In every interaction, altercation we have there will be expectations. We have them of and for ourselves and we have them of and for those we are interacting with and of course of and for those around the interaction.

We can pretend we don’t have them, that we go into a situation without them, but, I contend, that is a lie we tell ourselves. To pretend we don’t have them is of course nothing but fiction.

Absolutely we may be flexible in them, we may be able to change them on the hop, we may be able live with them being quite fluid in the moment and as the moment moves on.

Knowing our own expectations is a challenge in itself. It requires some level of self-reflection and self-knowledge. It requires we have some insight into ourselves.

When it comes to working out, reading, interpreting and understanding what the expectations of others are can be really difficult. As an autistic person, this is particularly hard. It’s already a huge challenge to read and interpret social cues and hints as well as non-verbal communication such as facial expressions and body language.

As an autistic person, going into any interaction with other humans, autistic or not, is a challenge of reading expectations, and this is the case regardless of how much insight into myself I have, and how well I have a handle on my own expectations.

One of the most hurtful stereotypes I as an autistic person am often confronted by is the so-called lack of empathy. I have been on the receiving end of this particular stereotype from many angles and perspectives, professional ones, and personal ones.

Personally, I have found this a really difficult thing to deal with. I find it really painful to confront. And that’s the kind of thing, I feel pain of myself and others with quite a lot of intensity, often an intensity that I fail to find expression for.

As has been said by some in more recent times, the so called lack of empathy of autistics is a furphy and in reality many autistic people are incredibly empathic and feel empathy deeply.

The issue I think becomes confused and conflated with a difficulty with expressing empathy and a difficulty in some situations with ‘Theory of Mind’.

It’s not that we can’t or won’t put ourselves into other peoples places, or try to see it from an alternative viewpoint, but that in fact it is just too painful to do so. So much so that we can at times be seen to be aloof, uncaring and unempathetic.

All of this has me wondering weather, a big part of this is expectations, and trying to work out what they are. As I said it is a challenge to just know your own expectations in a given situation, let alone those of the others in an interaction.

I suspect the difficulty and complexity of this exponentially increases as more and more people are added to an interaction.

Perhaps what’s actually going on with us looking like we lack empathy at times is a combination of the difficulty with expressing empathy we feel, and at the same time being unsure of what the expectation of us is in that moment, and so, instead of getting it wrong, stuffing it up as they say, a sort of abdication occurs instead.

It all ends up a bit like, well I can’t work out how I am supposed to respond here, I don’t know the expectations of this person, I have all these feels going on, and it’s hurting and it’s hard to deal with, and these people are expecting some response, I am not sure what they are expecting, what that correct response is. Whenever I try I fuck it up, so fuck it, I am just not going to try.

And so it ends up looking like we don’t really care about the other people involved, when in fact we do. It all ends up looking like, at times, we are these robotic, repetitive, routine controlled machines that have no theory of mind and no empathy.

That’s just not it at all, for me, anyway, I have been confounded time and time again, in efforts to get it right, but get it wrong so much, that in a way I have bailed out of trying, sure, it might look like I lack empathy but it’s not that at all.

I think what it really is, is, that I can’t work out the expectations, and therefore can’t make an informed choice in responding, and therefore look like an uncaring asshole.

Expectations, mine, theirs, and ours, they’re just bloody hard.

It’s like navigating a maze.

Navigating the terrain of the things you can change and can’t change in official documentation in Australia is like finding your way through a maze that is ever changing.

To do so for some things a simple statement from your doctor is all that is required, for others you must have undergone GRS.

It changes state to state. If I lived in the ACT, I would in fact simply need a few bits of paper from the relevant clinicians and I could have a certificate of recognition issued. I believe this is also the case in South Australia.

In my state of residence, where I have lived for about half of my 47 years, GRS is still required. Although that may be a bit of a grey area too. There was legislation before the parliament to change it so that those of us who are gender divergent and trans would in fact be able to access a change of details certificate without GRS.

Unfortunately finding the information proves extremely difficult. There are multiple new articles about the legislation, and even notation of it on the parliament website, but nothing to say whether the legislation has passed or not.

In my state of Birth, in order to have a sex/gender change recorded I must undergo GRS, and not be married!

Of course the elephant in the room is that GRS is not for everyone. This is for a range of reasons. Some of those reasons are all about affordability, but not the only reason. Many trans and non-binary individuals choose not to seek surgery. The reasons and rationales behind this are complex, and deeply individual and personal to the people involved.

In order to change my gender markers with many organisations I required very little. In order to do obtain a birth certificate or a complimentary document, due simply to the state in which I reside is impossible. And yet, if my address was 600km different I would in fact be able to do so.

Apparently the law in South Australia has changed also, however again, finding the relevant information on the registry website is an exercise in frustration and futility.

This ridiculous situation should not be. We are treated as effectively non people. It’s a simple thing really, or at least it should be, to have official documentation that reflects our true gender just like the majority of the population is able to have. The current situation is treating us as second class citizens. Only allowed some things, as though the authorities will humour us by dangling recognition in a few ways in the hope that will satisfy us and that we will simply go away and stop making a noise.

The situation as it stands, is inequitable and affords rights to some people because of their postcode that others are denied.

Why must a trans or NB person need to either move to another state, or, as I am sure is the case in some situations, obtain falsified address information in order to obtain a document that enables them to have the appropriate identity documents that all other citizens have a right to.

This maze of disinformation needs to be demolished and national legislation that enables transgender people to have the correct gender marker on their documents.

The simple fact is that the current situation is inequitable and unfair.