Autism in Heels: The Untold Story of a Female Life on the Spectrum

by Jennifer O'Toole

The point to be made here is an essential one: experience precedes identification. Invalidated realities are not the fault of those who live them. They are the frontiers for those who don’t. Or at least, they should be.

Finding just the right way to convey a feeling can save a life. Having just the right explanation can save a soul. Words matter. Which is why I put so danged much energy into them. Into languages and translations and etymology and writing and speaking well. They’re the best tool I have for making the world a safer place to be human.

Unlike our male counterparts, it’s the level of intensity and almost-professorial knowledge about our special interest, rather than the interests themselves, that set us apart from neurotypical peers.

Oversharing or sharing with the wrong people in the wrong circumstances is a common downfall.

We frequently have a strong connection to poetry and song lyrics and can detect incredibly subtle patterns within both.

Throughout our lives, we often gravitate toward people who are older and/or younger than us, rather than direct peers. The relationships we prefer have clear roles and rules and less need to spontaneously negotiate dialogue, compromise, and group dynamics. In a situation where we are older, we understand that we are in the teacher/leader/big-sister role, so it’s all right to be more didactic. That we’re actually expected to take the wheel, so to speak. On the other hand, if we’re the younger, we can settle into an apprentice role—watching, learning, and following along.

Hyperlexia—very early, very fast, self-taught, highly skilled reading—is common among spectrum girls.

Many girls find it very tough to clearly distinguish between levels of social hierarchy.

Females are more likely than males to try to manage anxiety, depression, trauma, and low self-esteem through self-harming behaviors, such as cutting and skin picking.

We impulsively underthink some things … while chronically overthinking others.

“It’s wondering … always wondering and never understanding: how can I be so smart and still feel so stupid?”

Challenging to Spectrum Minds Because: New, difficult, or large projects can feel so overwhelming to begin that we simply don’t; difficult to gauge amount of time and work involved; social anxiety can hamper clear and regular communication with those involved; our focus and attention are easily distracted and hard to return; adjusting to others’ input or changes in the situation is extremely difficult and anxiety-producing.

When we, girls who use big words and think big thoughts and work frantically on next week’s project while ignoring today’s urgent one, get lost in the minutiae of color coding without actually using the resources, come undone emotionally, miss appointments, or lose what we borrow, of course we’re misunderstood. It’s no surprise that we are seen as lazy, ungrateful, or self-centered. That we wear through patience and second chances. It’s only logical that we lose friends and jobs. That we rack up no-show fees, ruin credit scores, and mismanage savings. Regardless of class rank or intellectual acumen, our most painful struggle is against a never-ending sense of inadequacy. What good is “intelligence”—what good are we when life’s most basic, mundane tasks bewilder, stymie, and derail us?

We have such a difficult time discerning the edges of ourselves and others that we may feel as if we were about to be absorbed, paralyzed, and drowned by their emotions. So when we “catch” other people’s strong feelings—especially if they stir up emotions that have brought us great pain in our own lives—we experience their feelings as our own.

Though most listeners would never realize it, when an autistic person “shows” (i.e., talks about, or shares photos, links, articles, music, or memes about) topics on which she is expert, she’s not showing off for showing off’s sake. She’s trying to “infect” a potential friend with shared enthusiasm—trying to achieve a level of social confidence and transferred emotion.

And Broadway? Because … my heart, my soul, my body speak music. My mind speaks music like a language—swells and syllables and sentiments that are entirely nonliteral, purely emotional—and unhindered by rules. In fact, special interests do present us with the power to articulate an emotional vocabulary we often lack—à la expressing anguish by saying, “It was like Snape seeing himself with Lily in the Mirror of Erised.” I actually did that in a major talk and the entire audience filled with heartbroken faces and a resounding, compassionate, “Awwww. …”

Because fandoms are family. They’re legitimate havens, true subcultures with language, music, stories, art, and even clothing that carry deep meaning. To us, they feel sacred. Which means they should be respected. In fact, they should be harnessed as the greatest glimpses into who we are, how to inspire us, and what we’d like our lives to become. In spirit, that is. And maybe at Comic-Con. When we talk about our passions, it’s sort of like showing that Cookie Monster toy and asking you to play. A gesture at friendship. It may be clumsy, but it’s genuine.

For us, girls and women who often spend their entire lives thinking we are the “only ones,” fandoms are how we find one another—how we discover that we aren’t alone. That we can build real friendships and relationships, have meaningful dialogue, tell jokes that other people will actually find funny, and be valued for being our most real selves. They are the magic of authentic living—made very possible.

we tend to have far greater social success with (and thus prefer the company of) people who are older or younger than ourselves. Clearly defined subordinate/authority roles reduce the room for accidental blunders. Among peers … well, who’s in charge? Is that across the board or situational? Are there vested interests at play in strategies we can’t see? Who says what is right or wrong?

Life changes when you first discover a person who loves you for you and simply won’t allow you to drift away because she thinks you matter and are of value now. You may never agree with her. You may think she was, quite literally, “seeing things” instead of seeing you. But you’d be wrong.

To my mind, experience had proven over and again that given enough time, I could successfully irritate and tire out any coworker, friend, boyfriend, or family member into not just being done with me, but into seriously disliking me … and quite possibly even hating me.