Yesterday, two conversations that I was a part of, held great power. A young coworker had the vulnerability to express that she was a person with autism. I was blown away, because I’d had no idea. Then, another coworker chimed in, “No, you aren’t.”. She immediately said that she indeed was, as the other person still vocally denied. That’s when I interjected with something along the lines of, “It’s incredibly rude to tell someone who has autism that they don’t.”. I know I said more, but to be completely honest, I don’t remember every word I used. I do remember the intensity in which I expressed it, though.
I was heated. I was instantly brought back to all of the research I’ve done and all of the first person point of view videos I’ve watched. Right then, the mama bear in me came out. I took on the invalidation that people with neurodivergence receive, and I was defensive. Just this last week, I’ve set up an appointment with the autism director for CTF, and I’ve been researching pediatricians for Skylar. I’m daily writing and recording examples of Skylar’s neurodivergence, so that I will be listened to and not dismissed, like I have been with everyone else I’ve presented my concerns to. I took her comments personally.
My coworker with autism said, “It’s ok. I’m fine.”. I realized I had taken over a conversation that wasn’t mine to begin with, and I’d done so in a less than kind manner. I told my other coworker I was sorry for the way I had expressed myself. She didn’t appear to be very happy with me, and shortly left the room. I immediately texted her and said that I was sorry for hurting her feelings or making her angry. I apologized for speaking over her and our other coworker.
And then, a truly magical (to me, anyway) thing happened. The young lady (who’d had the courage to share that she had autism) and I, connected through our shared love of the topic of autism. She shared her story. Her late diagnosis, and the why’s. The state of overwhelm she gets into, her love of schedules, her hiding to compose herself, the ever so exhausting masking, and her hurt feelings when people unconsciously invalidate her when she shares that she’s a neurodivergent individual. We shared similarities and laughed at examples together. It all clicked, when she had the courage to share her story. I then understood the monotone sound when she greets guests and the blank expressions she often wears. Don’t get me wrong, she also shares sarcasm, humor, and affection in her face and intonation, but her gifting us with this information, gifted us more of an understanding of who she is. We found commonality. I teared up listening to her. She’s choosing to be vocal, to help bring understanding to others who are in the unknown of neurodivergent people. She chose to acknowledge me as a mother who knows my child best, and she gave me a safe space to express my knowledge and my journey. And that held so much validation for me.
That conversation was powerful. It came full circle. Awareness. Understanding. Empathy. Validation.
My other coworker soon sought me out, and we both expressed ourselves. Without divulging intimate information, I acknowledged the other person’s feelings of embarrassment, and I again apologized for coming across as aggressive, rather than assertive. I further explained how I had taken the dismissal as personal, because of my own short walk with autism. We both, emotionally expressed, acknowledged, and learned from the conversation. I thanked her for being vulnerable and addressing our situation rather than dismissing it.
That takes courage.
I’m blessed to work with two beautifully courageous ladies who helped me learn about the power of being vulnerable, really listening, validation, and how I need to continue to work on how I present myself in real time.
P.S. Did Albert Einstein have autism? 🤔
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