#I’ve always been aware of neurodiversity but I never thought of being neurodivergent myself

[saiwestfield]

Guys like a month ago I dissociated for the first time in so many years and man

What an experience

Wow the fact that the human mind can just do that that’s kinda crazy

So cool (I was trembling)

[vendeavendea]

How Entrapta Has Become My All Time Favourite Autistic Representation in Media: Long Version

Just so you know what to expect, this is more of a very long and boring personal post and less of a character analysis. By "very long", I mean "very long". Also, half of it was written at night when I was supposed to be sleeping (like, right now), so some parts might not even make sense. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Just days before I started to watch She-Ra, I answered a question in a writer group where someone asked what are the do's and don'ts of writing an autistic character. I've been told a couple of times in my life that I can’t be autistic based on the fact that I'm not really interested in or good at science, so I think special interests of autistic people are something that definitely has to be presented better in media. So I advised this person to make their character have a special interest that's NOT related to science, technology, space or computers, because it's a very common misconception that people on the autism spectrum are always into these stuff, and there are so many autistic fictional characters based on this stereotype that I feel like we absolutely don't need any more.

And then I saw Entrapta.

I didn't know she's canonically autistic until a much later episode, but it didn't surprise me when I was told she is, because my autism radar went off like a hundred times while watching System Failure and all her other season 1 appearances (so did my ADHD radar, by the way, but as far as I know, this hasn't been confirmed by the creators, so it's just my headcanon). And she looked like the purple ponytails princess version of the autism stereotype that I didn’t want to see any more of. The genius who is into space and robots, knows nothing about human relationships and keeps driving everyone nuts with her long and impossible-to-follow scientific monologues. Also cute and funny, yeah, but still, as someone on the spectrum who is super artistic and has nothing to do with science stuff, my first reaction was "dang, not this shit again." Just for once in my life, I wanted to see an autistic representation that's not just that typical weird tech-lover but a character that's at least a tiny bit more like me. Seeing her only in her first episode, little did I know that Entrapta's character has an incredible depth and her whole arc was going to be hair-raisingly personal to me (I know I'm not funny, but pun intended).

First, let’s talk about robots, because we can't talk about Entrapta without talking about robots. Entrapta builds robots just for fun, because technology is her thing, but there's actually a lot more behind this. Starting from as early as her debute episode, we see through the whole series that she creates robots with different designs, abilities, personalities, very similar to real people, as a sort of substitute for the human (or whatever species) company she'd wish to have. She even gives them names. She programs them to like being around her, to understand her, something that she hasn't really experienced from real people, which is sad enough on its own, but even sadder if we consider that she actually has human staff working at her fortress. She pretty literally makes friends, and she does it with the help of her special interest. And this totally reminds me of my primary school years when I had zero real friends and used my special interest, which was writing fictional stories and creating worlds/universes/languages in my head, to make up imaginary characters that could be my "friends" so that I wouldn't be that lonely.

Then, her interactions with other characters, especially with Hordak. Entrapta consoling Hordak in Huntara is a very powerful scene to me, not only what she says, but also how she says it. When Hordak starts venting about how he is a failure and all, Entrapta's first immediate response is to provide a practical solution, to design an armor for him, and comforting him with words is only a secondary action. She's helping in her own way, with technology, because that's what she's the best at, but she also wants to make sure he understands that fixing imperfections isn't always the solution, embracing them is. I also love how it's hinted with the "loved" crystal that Entrapta's love language may be acts of service (and probably quality time as well), which is another thing we have in common. And there's another thing in that scene I found very relatable: that part when she stops consoling him and starts to talk about herself being a failure instead. In real life, most people would read that in a negative way. I've been in many situations where I've tried doing something similar to people who were venting to me, and normally, they're like "ew, I'm the one complaining now, stop making it about you." But Hordak's reaction is different, all he does is try to tell her she's not a failure before she shushes him, then he just listens. He understands what Entrapta means by saying all those things about herself isn't "hey, look, my life is also horrible, so I get to complain, too" but rather "I feel you, we're the same". For a person who thinks and acts as differently from average people as Entrapta does, connecting with someone through similar experiences and feelings is a huge thing, and this is so relatable to me that I cried like a baby while watching that scene. Also, kudos to Christine Woods for making Entrapta's monologue sound so factual and casual. It really gives the impression of someone who is fully aware of her own strengths and weaknesses and accepts herself as a whole with all her flaws. The way she lists all the things that make her feel like a failure right after saying "imperfection is beautiful" is just... wow. But seriously, this whole "imperfection is beautiful" thing in general is such a cliché that it's not even supposed to work on me, but hell it does, because it's so well-presented that it's actually one of the most powerful moments of the whole series. Entrapta giving me self-acceptance lessons is all I've ever needed in my life (Hordak probably agrees, lol).

Speaking of self-acceptance, I also love how Beast Island shows that it's a long and difficult process with its ups and downs instead of just a door you walk through once in your life and then stay on the other side forever. Even if I accept and love myself the way I am, it's still totally normal to have low points with thoughts like "I'm not suited for friendship" or "everyone leaves me behind". And it's very nice and uplifting to have someone's love and support when I'm in a bad mood with stuff like this on my mind, but personally, I often find it easier to deal with if I have something related to any of my special interests around that I can focus my thoughts on. My "we flew here on an ancient First Ones ship, do you wanna see it?" would be something like "do you wanna create some characters and then write the shit out of them?" and before this show I've never actually realised how neurodiverse it is to use a hobby or interest for self-care like this. The "definitely the ship" part called me out so hard, and I just adore how the writers were able put so much meaning into a single joke line.

Back to interactions, there's also something painfully relatable in the way the other princesses treat Entrapta. Even in the beginning in No Princess Left Behind, but mostly in season 4 and 5. In most cases, Entrapta is only considered to be worthy enough to not be left behind in situations when her skills are useful. Other characters "liking" her isn't really about herself as a person but her tech knowledge. Just like when you go to school and the only reason your classmates want to make friends with you is because you always do your homework and let others copy it, or you're good at explaining stuff and are willing to help people getting prepared for tests/exams. When I was in grammar school, my classmates ignored me or mocked me for liking animation and comics, but every now and then they did the bare minimum of treating me like a human being and expected me to do their arts homework in return, because I was the only one in my class who was good at arts. When I studied linguistics at the uni, I was really into phonology and historical linguistics, and those were the compulsory subjects most of the other students were struggling with, so many people wanted to hang out with me just to make sure they could get my notes before the exams. The same people kept calling me nerd and making fun of me behind my back. I also had a few genuine friends, which I'm grateful for, but I still know what it feels like to be needed only for a specific skill while not being noticed and respected as a person, and Launch portraits this experience in a very clever way. It's so amazing to see how the princesses realise who Entrapta really is and start to treat her as someone who just thinks differently instead of someone who's a deliberate bad person. They finally get to see that she's not just an unwary tech nerd, but also a determined, caring and loyal friend who gives others so much love in her own geeky way and deserves love, too. But I shouldn't even be surprised, I mean, we're talking about a show that teaches us "you worth more than what you can give to other people," and it's great how this message applies to other characters as well, not only to Adora. And the best part is that this whole conflict is not presented as something black and white, it's not like Entrapta is the poor misunderstood autistic person and the princesses are the evil allistic bad guys who mistreat her. It's simply a miscommunication between neurotypical and neurodivergent individuals, and while the other princesses get to understand that they hurt Entrapta by their actions and that they should be more respectful of her, Entrapta also realises that she's made mistakes and hurt people, becomes aware of her own bad habits and makes efforts to get rid of them in order to save Glimmer. Plus I also love the faint implication that most of the princesses never really, genuinely, 100% make friends with Entrapta even after this scene, because sometimes people just don't resonate with each other enough to become close friends, but they learn to accept her differences and treat her with respect, nonetheless. This episode is so full of realistic interactions and character development it blows my mind every time I rewatch it.

I could just go on and on about all those tiny relatable details such as "I've waited years for someone to ask me about my theories!" I think this was the line that first made me fall in love with Entrapta's character. I mean, if someone from the crew wrote this line, that means they might know the feeling, too, so I'm not the only dork who feels this way every time someone asks me a question about my hyperfixations. And it's just so reassuring. Entrapta has many lines of the kind, they're not even important plotwise, but still super relatable and validating.

Now that we're here, and I know that I probably should have said this at the beginning of the post, but I'm too lazy to rewrite the first paragraph accordingly, I'd like to note that these are all my own interpretations and reflections on Entrapta's character based on my own experiences. This whole thing is totally personal, and I don't want anyone to think that this is how Entrapta is supposed to be seen by the whole fandom. So yeah, that's pretty much it for now.

[vroenis]

Part 2

This is part 1.

It turns out reflecting over my whole life is going to be a daily affair. It doesn’t really feel that different. Also I don’t know when it started.

- When a domestic interaction induces stress, my immediate response is to reduce external signs of my presence in that space. I look for objects that indicate my presence and remove them. I am an extremely tidy person, but things like shoes etc., I’ll withdraw them from a common area i.e., foyer, and put them in the most invisible place possible such as in a bedroom wardrobe.

I’ve been doing this for a long time. I also do this socially. When I read friction or difficulty between myself and others, I withdraw from them, even when it’s one-sided on my behalf. I wait for them to demonstrate to me that they want my company, which leads to

- I’m confused as to why people don’t demonstrate that they’re desirous of my company enough, even if obvious and understandable logistics prevent it.

I appreciate that as an autistic person, I spend a lot of time in self-observation, so I may have quite literal timers running on how often I’ve been communicating with the various people in my life. For neurotypicals, I assume much of this is allegedly natural, whatever that means, so if it isn’t, I don’t know what’s happening. I’m left to assume I’m not welcome. If I’m not welcome, I’m abandoned.

- There are people in my life who have had greater awareness of my health states than others and for a longer period of time, who have nevertheless behaved in manners that I can only describe as controlling, manipulative and abusive.

Today is the day I’ve realised this and I don’t know what to do about it. They hold positions of immense power in communities. I don’t need retribution, that’s not something I’m ever interesting in, but knowing something means reconciling it and never unknowing it. They won’t acknowledge it, won’t recognise it, will absolutely deny it, will be deft and intelligent at disarming and gaslighting, and I suspect may have for a long time been subtle in what they communicate to others in shared social circles about who I am and behaviours I exhibit. This is the first time I’ve ever spoken about these things. Until now, I’ve thought of these people only in good faith. The sinking feeling I have is that their behaviours have for a long time affected others and will continue to into the future. And I don’t know what to do about that.

- I keep thinking back on things I’ve done and now that I understand myself and autism, I know exactly how I fucked-up and I wish I could go back and explain to everyone I ever met why I did the things I did and how I wouldn’t do the same things again.

Over time my self-observation and self behavioural analysis has taken over so much of my time and energy spend, not only on the present i.e., what I do in the present right now, but on reflection and how I’ve made mistakes in the past and even things I’d taken for granted; interactions from the past I may not have ever rostered for assessment. My entire life would have had a myriad of different trajectories had I been aware of ASD. The earlier I’d had awareness, the more things may have changed. I did mention this before with regards to bipolar, as in I’ve had my bipolar diagnosis for longer hence more awareness, more education, more management, but now with autism and neurotypical/neurodivergent behaviour I keep going back thru my entire life or events and interactions keep coming to me - my mind brings them to me for assessment as if to say “so what about this, then?” - not in a malicious way, either, I genuinely enjoy it, it feels like the action comes from a place of curiosity because I genuinely want to know. So many things that hadn’t made sense or had baffled me or were incongruous in my life are beginning to connect and make sense and it’s simultaneously pleasing but also sorrowful to have happen.

I don’t ever seek to alleviate myself of my accountability, I would never seek to say something wasn’t my fault as if to treat my autism as this thing that’s somehow separate from myself. I’m still me. I still did what I did. I just wish I could explain it to people and apologise to them because I’m still so so sorry and no matter who they are, even if I still don’t like them, every human deserves respect and dignity. Outside of the fact that so many things are so difficult for me to navigate in this life, regardless - I still don’t want to harm other people.

- Showers are surreal and wonderful instances of suspension and isolation.

There are few activities that can suspend time but a shower seems to be one of them. Being enveloped in heat, moisture and constant, sustained sound is immensely pleasing. I enjoy clarity of thought in which I can meditate, pursue linear, parallel, multi-dimensional, scattered or nebulous meandering thought-spaces, or simply be in suspended null-space and simply hear and feel. There are the actions of washing, including those times that are wash days for my hair, and then the rest of the time is simple state of being. I can’t simply treat a shower as brutal utility. I have few moments of peace left in my life, let me have this one.

- Oddly either I don’t stim as often or only in specific circumstances, or in specific ways, or I’ve been admonished so often by others that I’ve clamped/suppressed it so hard I can’t do it any more. Nevertheless, when other people keep making human noises all together at the same time, I become distressed.

This is a different statement to the human noises of people doing their shopping at the grocery store/supermarket. These situations are more specific to perhaps being in a room together attempting to focus on something specific or driving in a car. It’s difficult for me to be specific because in certain contexts, a cacophony of speech and noise is not only understandable and acceptable but totally fine and encouraged as in, I will encourage and induce it and I’m totally fine. Some  specific board games would be good examples and I love them and enjoy them. This would make it understandably difficult for the neurotypicals around me to try and understand under which circumstances I might need calm and peacefulness given I’m not always a quiet person, altho perhaps my own behaviour at the time might assist in telegraphing that. In some situations, people seem *to me* to begin emitting strange and unrelated noise that is difficult for me to reconcile and my response is distress. This is likely due to the lack of ability in psychoacoustic filtering. Neurotypicals can remove/ignore sounds, or have some or all of it have a reduced effect on them. I can’t speak for all ASD people but I’ve never been able to do this. All audio stimulus arrives and is processed with equal importance at all times. To loop back to the music and advertising at the supermarket, this is why I have to remove the music and advertising that plays at the supermarket, because it’s so godawful and I can’t bear it and I *can’t not hear it* and I *can’t ignore* it.

- Most neurotypicals don’t know that many of their behaviours induce stress to neurodiverse people. I don’t know how to educate them directly.

This is an edit so I hope I can get this in before too many people miss it. Some people are really receptive to learning about something and making an attempt to modifying their behaviour, others are less so, especially the elderly which for some of us at our age, means our parents. The other challenge is depending on our stress levels, it can be extremely difficult to communicate in a way that is conducive to others hearing it what our needs are. I should stop speaking in the collective and speak in the individual/personal. Unfortunately when I’m distressed and people around me ask “what’s wrong?”, that’s probably the worst time for me to tell you what I need i.e., that something you and/or everyone present is doing something that’s causing me distress. I know and understand that no-one is intentionally doing anything to cause me stress, but neurotypicals tend to take it personally.

Often NT’s first response when we tell them something they’re doing is causing stress is to get offended and say

“I didn’t mean to do this to you”

and we didn’t say you did - that’s not the point. The point is it’s distressing anyway. It’s a bit like an industrial jackhammer down the street. It doesn’t mean to offend me either, it’s a machine. It’s still battering my ears, tho. (I usually don’t mind industrial jackhammers, by the way).

This is why I’ve generally not ever said anything about anything that distresses me my whole life, I’ve just suppressed my reactions and endured it.

I’ve been suppressing and carrying so much my whole life and I think doing that has been taking it’s toll and I don’t know what the long-term consequences of that are. It’s beginning to leak, now, at my age, and I can’t really do it any longer, because I’m tired. I need the people around me to understand and help me cope.

- Only this week, in May of 2021, am I learning that Tumblr is actually a wonderful place and resource for neurodiverse people.

I will always adore and respect the rebloggers, I love you all. I’ll never be someone who reblogs endless content but I’m so happy to see people doing this, it’s a way to keep content alive, keep it distributed and keep it visible - don’t ever stop. But what I have found is that the autism tag has a high volume of people actively writing about their experiences, whether it’s their encounters with the medical industry, the process of diagnosis, social stigma, daily interaction, challenges or triumphs. All of it is important - all of it - the memes, the writing, the twitter screencaps, the push against the bad orgs and systemic misunderstanding, it’s been heart-warming to go exploring. While I write wholly on my PC, I tend to go exploring on my phone and I’ve saved started to save a few hilarious memes, but also really touching and meaningful images that mean so much because they capture so perfectly what our lives can be like.

We might be strewn across the globe, separated by kilometres and miles, we may never meet in person, and we may be very different people and personality types with broadly different artistic and cultural tastes from a myriad of different backgrounds, but in this we are united and we have this common understanding. 

So far this week if I have two good things, it’s showers and Autism Tumblr.

[rotten-zucchinis]

“Neurodivergence”vs.“mental illness”... and connecting over those things in ace spaces

This is written for the February 2018 Carnival of Aces on the topic of Mental Health. [Call for submissions] [Round-up]

Mental health is a really broad term and not something I especially want to talk about,1. But there’s something related which I do: the difficult meeting of the “mental illness” and “neurodiversity” paradigms in offline ace spaces, and the potential in ace spaces for sharing experiences and changing perspectives about things *other* than aceness.

Ace communities are extremely diverse in terms of experiences of subjectivity, including a lot of experiences that “aren’t what society said they’re supposed to be”-- whether that falls under one or more of the umbrellas of “mental health issues”, “mental illness”, “neurodiversity”, “neuro / developmental disabilities” trauma, “disordered” eating, moods, thinking, etc., and experiences with / surviving the psychiatric system. 

The idea of neurodiversity is about diversity in how people's brains and minds are wired. And people who are “brainweird” or have minds “wired” in ways that are different from what society expects people to be— that diverge from the (prescriptive) norm— are neurodivergent. The idea is pretty straightforward and usually taken up to normalise and depathologise forms of subjective diversity.

For example, my “autism” isn't a disorder to be cured. I'm just autistic and that's okay, even if it is sometimes inconvenient in a world that isn't built for people like me (i.e., autistic = shorthand for being “wired” differently-than-expected in terms of things like sensory processing and social communication).

I’ve found that there’s an enduring tension in ace spaces between people who frame their experiences fully in terms of “mental illness” and people who frame their experiences at least partly in terms of neurodivergence (including people who view some parts of their experience as an illness and other parts as reflective of human neurodiversity). 

To be clear, that’s a tension I’ve encountered in other spaces too, but it comes up frequently in (my offline) ace spaces because those spaces so frequently involve a bunch of us who have these kinds of experiences all together talking about them (both with and without the presence of aces who don’t). And also to be clear, those aren’t the only two options for framing, understanding and interpreting experiences...

I didn't always think of myself as neurodivergent. It was actually only through participating in certain specific ace spaces that I came to recognise that I could claim that word for myself. And that might sound incredibly odd given that I’ve been acutely aware, for as long as I can remember, that I've experienced subjectivity in ways I knew were not “normal”— years before I had the language to name things like “dissociation” — and that “autistic” was always sort of part of my personal self-understanding2.

The thing is, while I was always acutely aware of the other nameless oddities of my own mind and the lengths I took to conceal things like dissociation (among others I don't care to mention here), I never really thought about that as anything beyond an individual level.

There’s a flip side to the neurodiversity framing that I don’t often encounter— that these are kinds of experiences that many people have, that other people might share them (even if they don’t all experience them in the same way). Regardless of *how* a particular person is neurodivergent, chances are there will be others out there that are wired at least somewhat similarly, because all of these things are part of human variability. In that sense, neurodiversity (or even neurodivergence) isn’t an “individual” thing, even if each neurodivergent person is neurodivergent in a somewhat unique way.

It is actually only within the ace community (in offline ace spaces and interactions) that I've been able to share my experiences with others around some of my not-specifically-autistic neurodivergent experiences, including some kinds of experiences that I don't talk about online.

I think part of the reason why that has been possible has to do with the sheer number of us— neurodivergent folks— who are ace. For me, being in rooms of other neurodivergent aces talking about similar experiences helped me name some of these experiences, and move from conceptualising them as a personal experience to part of a larger pattern of neurodiversity. That has been very positive for me.

And I’ve seen other people encounter the ideas of neurodivergence and neurodiversity for the first time in these kinds of spaces, and come to understand that their struggles don’t necessarily have to be described in terms of “mental illness”. But I’ve also seen some of the backlash within these spaces against this framing, against the idea that the ways in which we are neurodivergent should not automatically put us under the authority of the psychiatric institution, and against the idea that we might neither need or want a “cure”. And it doesn’t parse up as neatly as might be assumed along lines of what we’re talking about— it’s not all “autistic as neurodivergence” vs. “episodic depression as illness”.

At the same time, I've also encountered resistance among aces to admitting generally that so many of us are indeed autistic, otherwise neurodivergent and/or struggling with mental health issues. The idea that this knowledge should be kept strictly within the community. Their concerns have mostly seemed to centre around the idea that people will use that to invalidate us. People very well might use that to assess whether asexuality is some sort of mental disorder— and indeed if you look at some of the arguments academics have been having, that's part of it. And if you look at media representation... those things are connected in ways that really ultimately aren't very helpful for anyone.3

But it shouldn't matter if or how they’re connected. Being autistic is valid and doesn't need to be “cured”. Being asexual is valid and doesn't need to be “cured”. For me (and many others), dissociating is valid and doesn't need to be “cured”. (Some people will have a different relationship to dissociation, particularly if it's directly a response to trauma— but even still, even as an outcome of trauma, it isn't necessarily something that needs to be “cured”. Something can be valid even if it's an outcome of something that was not okay-- validity doesn't depend on “cause” or on being “natural” or “inborn”4).

At the same time, some people describe different aspects of their experience in different terms. For example, there are also aspects of my experience that “aren’t what they’re supposed to be” that are not part of the way I’m neurodivergent— things that I *would* consider some kinds of mental or cognitive pathology, such as the types of memory issues I've been experiencing in recent years. These issues are not instances of “how my memory works” but instead examples of “how my memory isn't working properly” (even if the way it's functioning might be “normal” for some other neurodivergnt folks— it’s not normal for *me* and that’s the point.). 

It's unclear how “treatable” or “reversible” these issues might ultimately be for me, but they are certainly disabling in a way that is very different from a developmental disability. And more importantly, the nature of that experience is very different from the “this is part of who I am and how my mind works” nature of my experience being autistic (or for that matter as someone who has always experienced periods of dissociation).

Being neurodivergent is something I have come to accept and understand in those specific terms through interactions I've had in ace spaces. Having those interactions has helped me find people with resonating experiences— mostly around the “otherwise neurodivergent” part of my autistic and otherwise neurodivergent self (because it’s also really not that hard to find other autistic folks in other communities I frequent, like trans communities). And those specific terms are useful to me.

Some of the powerful things about ace spaces are the possibilities they open for sharing experiences and changing perspectives about things beyond simply “asexuality” or “aceness”... even if sometimes those very possibilities are at sites of controversy and conflict.

Lengthy Footnotes:

1 Part of why the idea of “mental health” is loaded for me is that (as a chronically ill spoonie), I have a complicated and troubled relationship with “health” and “healthcare” generally. I’m also acutely aware that the discourse of “health” is routinely used to legitimise so much gendered, racialised, disableist violence in “healthcare” systems (most notably in the psychiatric system) and to enforce standards of (white middle-class) propriety. I grew up with the threat of this violence routinely levelled against me as a mechanism of control (including to minimise outward expressions of my being autistic). But beyond the threat, I was never actually subjected to the violence directly.

Medicine and healthcare have a high moral status and it is not always popular to critique them, even among people who've endured and/or survived their violence. There's an enduring tension in my various communities between the need to access healthcare, including psychiatric services, and the violence enacted by these services— so much so that naming this violence is often constructed as tantamount to devaluing or delegitimising people's very real needs for medical care, even if it's not. People's concerns and needs can be very real even if they're not “medical”, and they can also be both real and medical without being best- (or well-) served by the medical/psychiatric establishment.

Sometimes people need and want access to healthcare, treatments, medications, therapies, support, etc., for things related to “mental illness” or “mental health issues” or “neuro/developmental disabilities”, experiences with trauma, “disordered” eating, moods, thinking, etc. Sometimes people find help and support through the psychiatric systems, especially when there are no viable alternatives. And people should be able to seek and access the treatments and supports they need. But they should be able to access healthcare and/or support that recognises their humanity and that exists to help them. 

The psychiatric system does not exist to “help people”. Its institutions and practitioners collectively (and often individually too) do not value the experience and knowledge of the people they are there to “help”. The psychiatric system functions as part of a broader system of violent regulatory power over society's (angrily-disenfranchised or “unproductive”) “undesirables”. There are possibilities for people to find what they need outside of the “medical system”— some that already exist in communities and some with the potential to be created in the future.

It is against a backdrop of recognising the violence of psychiatric systems and the pathologisation of many experiences that are “normal” for many people-- even if they are not “normal” by society’s standards-- that people developed the neurodiversity paradigm.

2 The “autistic” part was always quite private in a sense, largely because of how I was treated growing up-- as “weird” and as morally accountable for my “weirdness” but not as “autistic” (including by parents who were fully aware that I was indeed autistic-- or Aspie as the labels were in those days). In particular, as far as my family was concerned I wasn't “autistic autistic” because if I tried hard enough and/or people yelled at me enough then I could pass for close enough to normal that I was just “weird”... unlike, say, my cousin.

On the other hand, my cousin was “autistic autistic” (also Aspie) and it was therefore okay for him (but not me) to not respond appropriately to small talk, to wear the same clothes everyday, to “have body movements” (I hate that expression, but it’s how they described things like rocking or using hands and feet in ways that don't conform to neurotypical standards), to take time alone, etc. The extended family made plans around his schedule and sensory needs and never acknowledged mine. Meanwhile, I was severely pathologised and condemned for doing “autistic” things without them ever being named as “autistic” in those moments (even though people were fully aware that they were.) 

Because of that, I basically grew up learning to manage sensory issues and trying somewhat to fake neurotypical body language and speech patterns as best as I could on my own, without talking about it. I was only privately “autistic”. Publicly, or outwardly generally, I was just “weird” and “overly sensitive” (to things like smells, noise, lights, crowds, certain kinds of touch, etc.) 

Even now, a lot of people seem to treat me like I’m not “autistic autistic” and react in strange ways when I do say something about it. This includes people who don’t know me in person (and who therefore aren’t in a position to observe how my “weirdness” permeates my everyday life) as well as people who have long been familiar with my real-life “weirdness” but who have never thought of that as anything other than my own *personal* “weirdness”. People react like I don’t talk about being autistic enough to justify my ever talking about being autistic, which in turn, contributes to my not-often talking about being autistic.

But the point I’m getting to is that while being “autistic” has been part of my (private) self-concept for a very long time, I never felt like that let me “count” as neurodivergent. (And I recognise that’s strange, given that the neurodiversity paradigm is strongly rooted in autistic self-advocacy). 

3 For example, we have Sheldon Cooper from the Big Bang Theory. He might be clearly autistic and asexual and aromantic (like me!)— even if he's never named as such— who's eventually in a long-term romantic & sexual partnership (not like me! and unlike most but not all aroaces). But he's not an example of good representation, and he's certainly not going to help anyone understand me (or anyone else) better or be more willing to respect autistic, asexual and/or aromantic ways of being.

For example, in addition to being autistic, asexual and aromantic, he's also an inconsiderate jackass who displays lots of misogyny, racism and intellectual elitism, while simultaneously fitting the archetype of the “man-child” who is of course also white. None of those characteristics are specifically or causally tied to being autistic, asexual or aromantic— individual autistic, asexual and/or aromantic folks might be any of those things, but so may anyone else. But stereotypically, they are all linked together.

In terms of “representation”, the problem with Sheldon isn't that he's an autistic aroace. The problem is that he's portrayed as asexual and aromantic because he's an oppressive man-child, and portrayed as an oppressive man-child because he's autistic. It's not “representation” for autistic, aromantic asexuals (and wouldn't be even if it was name as such)—it's a dangerous and inaccurate stereotype of all of those things played for humour and plot devices.

4 Sometimes the neurodiversity paradigm is taken in directions that presume that diversity is “natural” and then argue it is therefore valid. I actually think that's backwards: the emphasis on diversity comes out of the recognition that there are multiple valid ways of being— out of the rejection of the pathologising of those ways of being. Many ways of being are “valid” (or more literally non-pathological) and therefore the diversity must be normal... or at the very least that the validity and descriptive normality coincide. Personally, I don't think we're ever going to get anywhere by trying to prove that neurodivergence is non-pathological and/or “okay”— that needs to be the starting point and not the conclusion.