Disclaimer: Any views, opinions and tips on this blog are personal and belong solely to myself (Kyra) and don’t represent the views of affiliated professionals and organisations. Additionally, I’m not a professional advisor regarding Autism and the content produced on this blog is solely from my own experiences.

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“That’s stupid! You should have known he was stealing your bike.” It was a summer afternoon at secondary school when I recalled to my “friends” what happened yesterday. I had gotten back from school and had been alone in the house when a man knocked on the door. Although I was told to never open the door to strangers, I thought “Surely this man couldn’t be dangerous. He looked friendly with his bucket hat and wise features, and it was daylight.” The man noticed that I had a pink bike in the garden and asked whether I was still using it. Immediately, I responded with no, thinking about not having used it for a couple of months and not registering when the man leisurely took my bike out of the back gate.

After recalling this story to my “friends,” I was immediately hit with responses that I should have known he was a burglar and it was stupid for me to have let him run off with my bike. At first, I felt confused with the whole situation, as I didn’t notice anything momentarily wrong with the man, but then felt angry with myself for not taking action to stop him. This resulted in me crying throughout lunch in frustration with myself.

To this day, this memory has stuck with me. I always asked myself “Why didn’t I realise his true intentions? Why did I open the door to begin with?” But, it all became clear in December 2022, when I was formally diagnosed with Autism.

What is Autism?

Research into Autism has largely focused on understanding the spectrum condition from the perspective of White cis-gendered boys, with it commonly being associated with qualities including being cold, blunt, and rude (although, these qualities are controversial in itself). There is limited understanding of how Autism affects those who belong to groups including cis-gendered women, non-binary and the LGBTQ+ community.

For me, Autism is a spectrum of conditions and every Autistic individual sees the world in their own unique perspective. Some Autistic individuals (including myself) experience co-occurring conditions such as depression, anxiety and ADHD, and experience the world through a different lens themselves.

Although I felt relief for finally putting a name to something I felt from a young age, I became angry with myself and everyone due to not feeling fully understood by my family, friends, and society. There’s an expectation put into being formally diagnosed - like there should be an “aha moment” or a “revelation.” However, it felt more anti-climatic, like there’s been something missing a part of me all these years, and this isn’t talked about within the neurodivergent community.

Mourning my Diagnosis

After disclosing my diagnosis to family, friends and healthcare professionals, the common response was that I was lucky for being a “high-functioning” Autistic because I was able to overcome barriers throughout my life. This included surviving A-Levels, finishing university, and holding down a job. But, I didn’t feel lucky. All of those “achievements” resulted from my blood, sweat and tears, which involved experiencing loneliness, meltdowns, and trying to fit into societal expectations of me. As Irene from the YouTube channel The Thought Spot says:

From a young age, I’ve always struggled with understanding people’s facial expressions. There were moments when I didn’t realise when my “friends” gave me the cold shoulder and it took for people to tell me instead. It affected whether I developed close relationships with others, as I could never figure out what was “wrong” with me or why making friends was difficult.

When I started university, I believed that I could start fresh and make friends with people who had a passion for education and learning about the world. It became my mission to ask people how they are, if there was anything I can help with, or if there was anything I did wrong. I believed that if I did all of those things it would prevent repeating everything that happened before university. However, this tactic to conceal my confusion soon went against me, and the “friends” I made at university became strangers to me due to misunderstanding my actions as manipulative or needy.

After my diagnosis, I felt angry and hurt by everything that happened in my life to do with “friends.” While mourning, I was stuck at university, in the midst of my final assignments and had no time to reflect on my feelings. This was in the midst of living in an environment where I felt unsafe and isolated, alone with my thoughts. And I didn’t know who I was anymore.

Those three months were the darkest moments of my life, and I’m thankful for having my sister and healthcare professionals to support me through those moments.

What Next?

Although I’m still on my journey towards healing my trauma, I’ve become more appreciative of the friends and family who have stuck with me throughout these years. Despite everything that's happened, they’ve been the light of my life.

After a month of healing, I felt ready to start reflecting on my past friendships where I thought I was the one at fault or there was something internally “wrong” with me. It made me realise that I wasn’t the one at fault, but rather that my “friends” were taking their trauma and making me feel like it was. Furthermore, I’ve learnt not to feel resentment towards them, as we’re all on our journey towards healing and sometimes we make the wrong decisions. This doesn’t mean to say what they did was right, but rather I understand how trauma can sometimes make us feel a multitude of emotions that we cannot control.

Further Information

The Thought Spot (2022) Mourning Process Post Autism Diagnosis. The Thought Spot.

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