All The Things We Are Supposed To Be And Not Be

Has anyone ever felt or noticed that there are so many things we are supposed to be? So many things, which, for most of my life, I have felt *I* am supposed to be, or to conceal if I’m not.

For instance, we’re supposed to be perfectly neurotypical, to not be autistic or ADHD or dyslexic or any other neurospicy flavour. Or if we are, we’re not supposed to be a ‘burden’ or let it ‘impinge’ on others, we’re expected to put up a perfect pretense of ‘normal’, no matter what it costs us. And if we can’t, then we should Just Go Away. Disappear.

We’re supposed to be completely able-bodied, no illnesses or disabilities, whether physical, neurological, learning/intellectual, metabolic, acquired or innate. Or, if we aren’t, it’s often seen as ‘our fault’, and again we’re supposed to pretend we’re not, even if it hurts and exhausts us, and to ‘not use it as an excuse’. And if we can’t, then we’re supposed to keep out of public view, so as not to ‘force’ the sight of us on ‘normal’ people. Oh, and you mustn’t have any mental health issues either, or keep them/yourself out of sight. Heaven forbid you have a breakdown in public.

We’re supposed to be completely cis and hetero, because gay, trans, non-binary etc are weird/abnormal/disgusting/It Would Just Be So Much Easier If We Weren’t. If we’re gay/lesbian, then we ‘shouldn’t push it into everyone’s faces’ (i.e. stay in the closet). If we’re trans, then we’re ‘mutilating’ ourselves, and should ‘just accept’ the body we were born into, even if it jars every last nerve we have. If we’re bi we’re ‘confused’, if we’re gender-fluid, same, or lying. Intersex people? Either ignored or denied. And if we’re asexual or aromantic, then OMG what’s WRONG with you??!!

And it doesn’t end there.

We’re supposed to be, if not well-off, then at least financial enough to not need any help from ‘the system’. Being poor is somehow offensive, and being dependent on welfare is especially a Crime Against Society. It’s considered a personal lack if we need anything of anyone else, in any way. (But if we’re female, paradoxically we must always be ready to assist others.)

We’re supposed to be able to eat anything, anywhere, anytime it’s offered or available. Allergies, food intolerances, sensory difficulties, even simply strong dislikes, are all ‘nuisances’ or ‘stupid’ or ‘made-up for attention’, or just plain ‘fussiness’. Similarly with clothes – sensory problems or dislike of certain fabrics or styles are ‘silly’, or even ‘dangerous’, especially if you’re non-binary or trans.

And of course we can take it as a given that non-white people, both native and/or descendants of slaves, have been routinely made to feel ‘other’, inferior, and unwanted. (Non-white) immigrants are told they ‘should go back where they came from’, no matter no matter what awaits them there. That the rest of the world (ie white people, even in countries whose population is largely descended from immigrants) shouldn’t have to tolerate them. That they should not exist.

Perhaps the most‘shoulds’ and ‘oughtas’ are reserved for those born into female bodies, regardless of what else we are. The list is long, and has been covered elsewhere, most notably the soliloquy from the Barbie movie. And these things are often contradictory, so that women can never win. We must be assertive, and honest, but never ‘threaten’ or ‘undermine’ men. We must be gentle, but not so much we become victims.

We must be perfectly groomed at all times, never too over- or under-weight, fit and healthy. Our cooking must be perfect, and as much home-cooked as possible. Our children of course must always be perfectly clean and tidy, and, naturally, well-behaved and without any ‘issues’.

Our homes must always be tidy and clean, preferably looking like a show home at all times, and a carbon copy of others as much as possible, even if that doesn’t work for us. Heaven forbid we have belongings scattered around, or if our daily routines just aren’t like other people’s, or that we arrange our homes to suit ourselves. It’s ‘selfish’ or ‘weird’ and grounds for some pretty severe criticism, especially online.

Yes, in many places things have improved. Somewhat. Laws have changed, there are pockets here and there of people very welcoming of difference, and others who at least pretend to be… well. Nice. Polite. Accepting. And yet… There are assumptions, misconceptions and microaggressions. Pauses, smiles that don’t reach their eyes, turned heads and cleared throats and outright snubs. What with that and images in the media, TV and movies, we can still end up feeling like we’re burdens, that we must conceal our true selves/bodies/sexuality/race/religion/whatever, in order to be acceptable to others, to not place a burden on them, to be seen as ‘okay’ or ‘normal’. And this is in comparatively ‘safe’ countries. (Because some countries are decidedly unsafe for many.)

Why? Why should we have to hide or erase our differences in order to be even grudgingly accepted? Why is there still this dislike of those who are ‘different’? How on earth do we tackle it, both collectively and individually? It damages us. It erodes our self-confidence, makes us hate ourselves and feel ashamed and inadequate, and causes us to self-erase. All in a desperate need to become part of a world that doesn’t truly accept us as we are – or to avoid its outright attacks.

But is it really so awful that so many of us are not ‘Default Man’? (ie white, middle-class, cishetero, able-bodied, neurotypical, etc, etc.) Are our needs really ‘too many’, ‘too costly’, ‘too much of a burden on society’, blah blah blah? Are all these demands - usually unspoken but not always – legitimate? I don’t think so. I think we have the right to simply be what we are, whatever that is. Default Man is a highly privileged minority anyway.

I must admit, I find it hard to eradicate these buried attitudes in myself. While I have consciously rejected them, there are still fragments of them deep down that sometimes erupt to the surface in unexpected ways. But becoming aware of how they affect me is a start. You can’t tackle what you don’t know is there, constantly undermining your attempts at self-actualisation.

I do feel strongly however that somehow the attitude that This or That is Normal and hence
Desirable/Better/Superior must be seriously challenged, at its very root.

WHY THE 'LABEL' IS SO IMPORTANT

I’ve written before about identity and labels, eg here. But I think that I haven’t made it quite clear why one becomes the other, and why both are so essential.

To illustrate, let me give two examples from my own life.

The first is the ‘label/identity’ of being autistic. I grew up and spent decades of my adult life knowing I was ‘different’, but having no idea why. From the age of about seven onwards, I knew there was something ‘wrong’ with me, that I wasn’t like others, and much of my life has been dominated by that fact. I spent decades trying to either find out what my ‘problem’ was, or to get rid of it, to forcibly make myself ‘normal’, and just like everyone else. Neither effort was fruitful.

I became convinced that I was just not as good as other people, that I was weak, useless, pathetic, because I couldn’t cope with or do the things that others coped with or were able to do so easily. I was told ‘don’t be so sensitive’ ‘it’s not such a big deal’, ‘what are you worrying about’, ‘you’re making a fuss about nothing’, and so on. I was laughed at for ‘moving funny’, or ‘saying daft things’, or criticised for being ‘insensitive’ or ‘rude’ or ‘selfish’. It often seemed like nothing I did was right, I became scared to do or say almost anything. In the end, I withdrew from much human interaction, because I just couldn’t cope with it.

The result of all this is that I have suffered from low self-esteem, depression, anxiety and self-hatred for most of my life. This self-hatred went so deep, that even now, I haven’t gotten rid of all of it all. But an amazing thing happened, almost by accident. I began to read up on Asperger’s and autism, in order to help a student I was working with, and quickly recognised myself in the descriptions. To say I was surprised is something of an understatement. To say I was relieved, when I finally found that there were others like me, that I wasn’t ‘one of a (weird) kind’, a sort of lemon off the human reproduction line, is even more of an understatement.

What was a label quickly became an identity, as I studied more, read more, listened to my fellow autistics, discussed my ideas with them, shared my thoughts and feelings, asking ‘is this familiar to you? Have you ever felt/done/said this? Had this reaction from others?’ And the response was overwhelmingly YES! Yes, I know what you mean, yes, I’ve done that/been in that situation/felt that, yes, I’m like you.

I’m like you.

I wonder if anyone who’s never felt like they don’t truly belong anywhere can understand how profound that can be, to have people say that to you. To be understood, to finally, finally, FINALLY  know who and what you are. To be validated. To have the right word, the right ‘label’, the right IDENTITY, to describe yourself, a community to fit into, a ‘place’ to call home. To belong.

I don’t think there are words strong enough to describe that feeling.

This autistic identity is one that’s formed over the last ten to fifteen years. But there’s another, more recent, identity that’s been forming, and that’s to do with my sexuality and gender identity.

I always knew I was ‘different’ in this respect as well, and again, I had no labels for it, no words to describe it, I just felt an unease, a sense of ‘not fitting in’ to the prescribed feminine roles. I was designated female at birth, and have a female body. All my life, I’ve been okay with this in the sense that I’ve never felt like I’m male, but... I also always knew something wasn’t quite right (on top of the ‘difference’ I mentioned above, that is). I was called a ‘tomboy’ as a child, and had a sense that I ‘wasn’t like other girls’. Then as a teen and young adult I was totally uninterested in fashion, makeup, long nails, elaborate hairdos, etc. I conformed just enough to avert criticism, but never felt happy doing so. In fact all things ‘womanly’ felt… just not me, somehow. Yet  I didn’t like very ‘masculine’ clothes, or behaviour, either. I found both extremes not just an ill-fit but almost oppressive, like a sensation of being smothered.

Then, when I was in my mid-20s, I came out as a lesbian, and thought ‘oh, this is why!’ I joined the feminist movement and lesbian community, and for years this was my world. It liberated me (or gave me an excuse, take your pick) to chuck out ‘feminine’ clothing, ditch the makeup, and wear mainly jeans, t-shirts and sneakers. But I still felt somehow different to my lesbian ‘sisters’. I never called myself a ‘woman-loving woman’, for instance, as some lesbians did. I told myself it was because it was ‘too much of a mouthful’. I felt uncomfortable with many of their behaviours, and privately ruminated on how so many of the lesbians I knew hadn’t really ‘undone their feminine conditioning’. But I still felt like I was missing something. I groped for the words to describe it, I searched the literature, but there was nothing. Just a blank void that I echoed around in.

I struggled with relationships too – I always wanted to get to know a person first before jumping into bed with them. The result was that I’d often have to choose between being sexual before I was ready to, or missing out. Mostly, I missed out. And when I did get into a relationship, the problems weren’t over then. Some difficulties were due (I see now) to my undiagnosed autism. But there was also something else that yet again I struggled to define, a sense of being trapped by the ‘romantic’ role, or by simply being in a romantic relationship. And when it ended, my biggest feeling was always one of relief - the kind of ‘oh thank god’ relief that comes when you quit doing something that’s truly beyond your capabilities.

After my last relationship ended, I drifted away from the lesbian community, mainly because I just didn’t feel like i fit in. After a while, I found the autistic community, and made new friends. This soon became a new ‘home’, not least because of its higher rate of sexuality/gender variations, and higher rate of acceptance of them. Eventually, however, some deeper, nagging sense of difference reasserted itself.

I avoided (I realised later) describing myself as a ‘woman’, or even as a ‘lesbian’, and would say things like ‘well I’m female but not feminine’. I also developed an interest in reading about trans people, and in fact anyone else who didn’t fit into the gender binary. More recently, I also found myself reading about other different gender/sexuality identities, such as intersex, asexual, aromantic, all the grey and demi-identities, non-binary, etc, without quite realising why. I soon realised that I’m almost certainly ‘demi-sexual’, and probably also ‘aromantic’, though I’m still exploring both of those. It is however a relief to know that I’m not crazy, for feeling the way I do about relationships!

But it wasn’t till a trans woman friend chanced to remark “you’re a woman if you identify as a woman”, that something clicked for me. Because even as some part of me was mentally nodding, going ‘uh huh, yup’, another part of me suddenly said “….But I don’t identify as a woman”.

Well! To say that was a shock is yet another understatement! I reeled, and then it began to click. Of COURSE I’ve never felt like a ‘typical girl’ or a ‘typical woman’, I’m not one! I dived into exploring the whole non-binary thing, and was amazed. ‘You mean, there’s actually a WORD for what I am?’ There’s a reason I don’t feel comfortable with ‘feminine’ clothing, hairstyles, behaviour, etc, but feel almost equally uncomfortable with ‘masculine’ things/behaviour? There’s a neutral territory beyond gender, devoid of extremes, that not only myself but others exist in? Wow, wow, and wow!

Anyway, although many of my friends on Facebook already know, I guess this is my official ‘coming-out’ as non-binary! In case you’re wondering, I’m still fine with female pronouns, and have no plans to change my name or official gender registration, etc. (Please also note, I’m NOT criticising any non-binary who does, everyone makes their own choices according to their inclinations and needs, and this is mine. I’m too old, too cranky, too tired, too used to my current name - which I chose for myself anyway! - to feel any need to do it, even if I had the spoons, which I most emphatically don’t.)

This is my story, but it echoes that of many others too. Discovering that ‘label’ which becomes an ‘identity’ won’t solve all your problems (I still have plenty!), but it will solve one big one – that of your core identity; knowing who and what you are. No more floundering in whatever kind of social/emotional/sexual/gender/neurological wilderness you were in before. These labels I’ve mentioned, and so many others, are providing real clarity, real self-discovery, real comfort, and a real sense of belonging/solid identities for so many now. And no-one has the right to take that away from us, and to attempt to push us back out into that wilderness.

So think on that, before you disparage ‘all this fancy label nonsense’ or talk about how you ‘don’t want your child to be labelled’, or claim ‘it’s just a fad the young are getting into’. (Need I remind people that I’m far from young? And yet here I am, non-binary etc, anyway.) You may be denying someone the chance to find themselves and their true identity, and to finally feel ‘at home’ in their own skin.

So please, just think before you judge. Close your mouth, open your heart and mind, and listen instead. You might be amazed at what you find out about those you thought you knew.

I'm Tired of People Defining Me

I’m tired of people trying to define me. My whole life, people have been telling me who and what I am, how I should act or react, and how I should live my life.

It started very young. When I complained about bright lights or strong smells or loud noises, they told me “it’s not that bad”, and I should “stop being such a whinger”. When I was a teenager, I was told I “shouldn’t be so anti-social”, and I should “just make friends”, as though this was easy. If I tried to say I couldn’t do something, I was told that “of course” I could do it, and that I was just being “unco-operative”.

If I wore certain clothes that I felt comfortable in, I was either ridiculed or pressured into wearing more “fashionable” clothes. I was told that my behaviour was “rude” and “un-ladylike”, and that I must be “nicer” to people, especially men. Later, after I became a feminist and came out, a different bunch of women let me know I was expected to be a “right-on-sister” instead - a different set of expectations, but no let-up.

My differences were cast as personal flaws or deficiencies, and I was told that I just needed to “try harder”. They would tell me to “just relax” and “be myself”, but when I did, they said “not like THAT!” If I expressed my real feelings or thoughts, people told me I was weird, or that “nobody” felt like that, and that I needed to “shape up my ideas” or “get real”. Or they would tell me I “must” feel such-and-such, or have this or that neurosis, because of my behaviour or attitudes. I was told I should “speak up more”, or that I was talking too much and should let others have a turn. I was “too quiet” or “too loud”, “unfriendly” or “clingy” or “nosy”, and on and on. No-one, it seemed, was quite content with me, no matter what I did.

My (now-ex!) partner would oh-so-confidently explain to me what I “really” felt. Or that what I felt “wasn’t normal”, that it was symptomatic of all that was wrong with me, and that if only I listened to her and did what she told me to do, and became what she told me to be, all would be well. She told me exactly what sort of person I was, and what my faults were, in great detail. According to her, I was a terrible lover, a lousy friend, a bad mother and, she implied, deficient even as a human being.

When I became ill, some thought I was “just being lazy”, or a “piker”. Even when I finally got diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, it didn’t stop. There was the alternative healer who told someone else that it was a “pity” I’d been diagnosed, implying I’d use it as an “excuse” to “wallow” in my illness. And the counsellor who asked one day why didn’t I “just go for a run round the block?” This same counsellor also once spent almost an entire session ripping into me for being on a benefit. It became obvious she had a low opinion of beneficiaries, and me for being one.

Even those who accepted the diagnosis and meant well, would tell me I needed to “just take this seawater solution”, or do this or that pet therapy of theirs, or some other “miracle” cure, or “just think positively”. Or that the vitamins I was taking were “just expensive pee”, always without asking me what worked for me.

And then I discovered Asperger's and autism, and oh look, another lot of definitions. The ‘experts’ solemnly pronounced me incapable of empathy, of having emotions, of understanding others or even myself, of being able to relate to others or be a good parent, etc, etc, etc. It seemed that, once again, I was a deficient creature, barely even a human being, in the eyes of others who had never even met me.

Being autistic and physically disabled aren’t the only things about me which others have used to try and define me of course. Religions have tried to reduce my innate sexuality to a mere “lifestyle choice”, and tell me that I’m a “sinner”, and even claim, as one NZ religious leader has, that gays cause earthquakes (no, I’m not kidding).

Men have tried to ‘mansplain’ things to me, told me I “should smile more”, or suggested I “don’t understand” how the world works. Able-bodied people have tried to ‘able-splain’, in the same patronising fashion, without bothering to find out first what I actually already know or don’t know. Or they’ve treated me as if I was mentally deficient, again without bothering to find out anything about me.

Sometimes even other autistics don’t understand me, their image of me seems to be incomplete, or even totally wrong, like the one who told me I was a “man-hater”, when I challenged his sexism. It never seems to end.

But my feeling now is – NO.

NO.

Enough.

I’ve had enough of this. I refuse to allow my life, my very self, to be defined by anyone else, ever again. I am what I am, and that’s good enough for me. And it’s just going to have to be good enough for the world too.

Everyone has their bottom line, the point beyond which they won’t and can’t go, and this is mine.

I don’t mean I’m going to go around wildly starting arguments or pushing anything on anyone. I do mean I will stand my ground, and no longer allow others to define me, to tell me what I am or should be or how I should live my life. I will back off, but I won’t back down.

This is me. The real me, as defined by me. Get used to it.

A couple of links to other stuff i've written

Here is the link to the (short) version of my story that was published on Alyson Bradley's website, for those who are interested or who have asked me about my earlier years.
It's at http://asplanet.info/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=138&itemid=184

Also, here's a link to another piece i wrote, also on asplanet, about how the world MIGHT look if aspies/auties were in the majority, and NTs the minority. I would probably write it a little differently now, but the basics still stand.
http://asplanet.info/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=93&itemid=139
Let me know if you have trouble with the links.

Just a bit about me and why i decided to start a blog...

I'm not sure yet what or how much or how often i will be posting here, but i thought i'd give it a go anyway. I also have no idea if anybody will be interested in what i have to say, but even if they don't, no biggie... this is just about me getting my thoughts 'out there'. I don't care if people agree with me or not, but i do hope they will be respectful.

So... Mid-50s, female, self (so far) diagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome, after a lifetime of struggling through life without knowing why. After several years exploring the ramifications of this, it seems to me there is a lot of confusion and misinformation about AS and autism 'out there'. I hope - perhaps - to clear a little of that confusion. If i can. Enough said.