
shortly after delivering the strong suggestion of autism, my therapist pointed out that of all the things I could pick, my chosen major in college was anthropology. I literally picked the study of humans and why they are they way they are. I am not sure to what degree being autistic can actually be said to influence that, but I can see how one might think that I was so baffled by the creatures around me I just gravitated to anthro. BIZARRE CREATURES ALL OF US.
Anonymous
I think it’s not actually that uncommon for us to be interested in people. I’m fascinated by history and culture, and if I’d known about anthropology (and had the money) I might have gone into that field myself. And I know I’m not the only autistic to feel that way, either.
I don’t know how much us being autistic has to do with it. Maybe some, maybe a lot, maybe none. Maybe, because we already have to study people a lot, it’s easy to get fascinated by it. Or maybe we have the same ratio of interest in things like anthropology as allistics do. Now that’s a study that would potentially be interesting; not how many of us go into STEM.
[“Until all the pieces fit.”
Hey look, I’m working on it, but you allistics are hella difficult to figure out.]
Sorry, guys, I know it took me a pretty big chunk of my 20+ years to get it down, but you’re tough. You do all these weird things, like beat around the bush instead of saying what you mean, and bumping into people in crowds as if you somehow can’t tell they’re there. You have to understand that even after years of intensive study, we can’t be expected to fully understand you; sorry, allistics, but you’re just too bizarre.
Don’t worry though. We will keep trying until the puzzle is complete. No, no, there’s no need to say a word. You can’t possibly understand you as well as we can. Trust us; we know what’s best for you.
(It’s really not comfortable being on the receiving end of that, is it?)

I’ve mentioned before that I wanted to write science fiction starring an autistic character. I’ve written the first manuscript, though it still needs work. As a plot out the series and more ideas come to mind, there’s research I need to do. In this case, a question I need to ask my fellow autistics.
I’d like to repurpose the term ‘quiet hands,’ filled with so much negativity to so many of us, and use it for something else. In my sci fi universe there are a group of neurodivergent people who hide, sometimes in plain sight, to protect themselves from those who would want to erase them. Starting with autistics who pass very successfully (hence the use of Quiet Hands) they formed a group that works to protect other neuroatypicals from erasure. They work within the neurotypical population, finding others like them, giving them a home, ensuring that their needs are met. Throughout the history of my universe they’ve grown as a group, encompassing other neurodivergences and other disabilities.
I like the double meaning of calling them the Quiet Hands, but I wanted to know what other autistics thought about the idea. Is it too much? Would it bother you, or do you think it works?
[“Making friends will get easier with practice!”
No.]
[I understand the theory of social interaction just fine
It’s the practical application that escapes me]
Just me?
[“But you seem so normal!”
Give it time.]
I’m not denying that this is a really insulting, ableist thing to say, because it is. But it’s also almost always said to me by people who’ve spent hours, or even only minutes, around me.
Like, you haven’t seen me curled up on in a sobbing puddle because public transportation. You haven’t seen me home alone with only my iPod and my horrible white girl dance moves to keep me company. You haven’t seen me that time I was ranting to my husband and kept stopping mid-sentence to gleefully squish my Hello Kitty squishy things. You haven’t seen me running the satin ribbon on the edge of my blanket through my hands over and over again. You haven’t heard even a tiny fraction of the sorts of things that come out of my mouth. And most importantly, you sure as hell didn’t see my fucked up childhood and everything I went through, being an autistic girl in a public school during a time when people were only just beginning to even acknowledge that girls could be autistic.
So to the people who tell me I seem so normal, I say to you: Sadly, so do you.
Do Aspies often focus on what they're not good at?
Anonymous
Maybe? I don’t know. I mean, if there’s something I’m not good at, but I really want to be, I’ll focused a lot of energy and determination into getting good at it, but I don’t know if that’s an autistic trait, or if I’d be like that anyway.
I do think sometimes we can feel pressured by society to be good at things so people won’t act like we’re worthless, so I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re a bit more prone to putting effort into things we’re not very good at. Beyond that, I’m not sure. Anyone else have thoughts/experiences on this?
I'm an Aspie but wasn't diagnosed as a child since I knew how to mimic NT people enough that I didn't "fit" the stereotypes. Not so much as an adult, but I can mostly pass with effort. But over the past year I've started swaying/flapping, having more frequent and severe meltdowns, and many textures/sounds now hurt so bad that I've had to make routines to handle them. Since these symptoms aren't from childhood, is this maybe another disorder? Or can one's place on the spectrum change?
One’s place on the spectrum can change from day to day, sometimes even from hour to hour. It’s not at all a static thing.
Many things affect our coping abilities. It may be that the past year has been more stressful for you in some way that is depriving you of coping skills, thus requiring you to stim more, causing more meltdowns and making you more sensitive to sensory stimulation. Speaking as someone whose been under a lot of stress this year, I’ve had a number of problems including such raised sensitivity to sensory stimulation that there have been foods I can’t eat.
Spending time passing can also lower your ability to cope. Really, anything too stress, too traumatic, too painful—all these things can potentially cause heightened symptoms. It can help to find ways to combat the overstimulation: Carry something to stim with if you have any sort of tactile stims (I keep a satin ribbon with me); use an iPod or sound-dampening headphones to cut down on noises that bother you and stress you out; choose clothing that you’re as comfortable as possible in; eat foods with textures that comfort you. (If any of my hedgehogs have any other useful coping methods, hit up my inbox.)
I wouldn’t worry about whether this is some other disorder at this point. It’s perfectly within the nature of autism and we all go through up and down phases when it comes to dealing with everything life throws at us.
So I just found your blog and there's something I'd like to ask regarding special interests. Mine tends to shift focus every few years or so to something different (e.g. from a particular webcomic to a particular video game), and I just wanted to know if anyone else has experienced this and if it's a normal thing to experience?
Anonymous
Well, I can only speak for myself, but not only do my interests tend to shift, they come in different levels. Like, I get very surface fixations, and then I’ll want stuff to do with that fixation, and that can be as simple as buying a bunch of things in a color I’m fixated on. Other things run much deeper, and I’ll continue learning about them and being interested in them my whole life.
Like, for example, there was a period where I was fixated on owls, and wanted to collect lots of owl stuff. That waned. But I’ve been interested in history and archaeology for a long time, and though sometimes I don’t spend a lot of time on it, it always comes back. (I also have a very special place in my heart for maritime disasters.)
Very few of my interests go away, but the intensity of them changes. I’ve heard of other autistics who, for example, learn everything they can about a special interest and then aren’t interested anymore. Based on what I know about my followers, my guess is that there are a lot of different (and perfectly normal) ways that we interact with our special interests. So I’d guess that your experience is no more unusual than any of ours.