Autistic People Don’t Want Pity

They want this instead

My life as an autistic person has been horrendously difficult at times.

At different times I have endured discrimination, marginalisation, and social exclusion, as well as debilitating anxiety, depression and chronic illness.

But I am not saying this because I want to elicit pity or anything of the sort.

Pity doesn’t really help me in any meaningful way and it doesn’t help other people like me.

There are certainly things that be done to help people like me but that ain’t it.

The fact of the matter is that much of the difficulties I have faced and in some ways continue to face are not due to the autism itself.

They are down to the way that autistic people are treated. Or perhaps to say mistreated would be a more accurate way to out it.

It’s the mistreatment that’s the main problem, at least from my perspective.

The main problem is not my autism.

It stems from this.

What might be described as classically autistic traits are not generally accepted in society.

If our traits we characterised positively then we would be venerated as scrupulously honest original thinkers who prize depth, rigour and accuracy.

But this is not the consensus interpretation of our autistic traits.

Instead, we tend to be viewed as rude socially inept pedants who have an irritating penchant for being awkward.

Because of this many of us hide our autistic traits by doing what is called masking.

Understandably we want to avoid negative feedback. We want to avoid being treated with hostility.

Our communication style is consistently misunderstood, so we moderate it.

This helps us avoid being mistreated as much.

But having to constantly decouple our outward behaviours from our authentic selves can have a profoundly negative impact on our self-esteem and our general sense of well-being.

It’s also exhausting and can annihilate our mental health.

So understandably we don’t really want to mask. We do it because we feel we have to.

It’s a survival technique. It enables us to navigate what is often a hostile world.

Institutions are also designed in ways that make our lives hard.

They put us in chaotic environments that create a sensory nightmare for us.

Imagine having to work in a place that was constantly engulfed by the screeching sound of nails on a chalkboard.

At the same time imagine that every time you tried to settle down to get some work down somebody prodded you in the back with a sharp object or gave you a little shove.

Then imagine someone decides to recognise your workstation so you don’t know where your stuff is.

That’s what many work environments are like for autistic people.

They’re a chaotic nightmare that consistently throws up distraction after distraction to the forefront of our consciousness.

Needless to say, this is a less-than-optimal environment in which to be productive.

But again, we don’t want to be pitied because of this.

So what do we want?

We do want people to understand the challenges we face in some kind of reasonable context.

We want people to stop making our lives needlessly difficult. We want change to the architecture of institutions so they no longer disadvantage and marginalise us.

We want the opportunity to be able to flourish. We want the system to enable this instead of putting ridiculous barriers in our way.

We want our autistic traits to be recognised for what they are and for the real value they bring instead of distorted through a prism of ignorance and prejudice.

Pity does not help us attain these things.

We don’t want hollow words no matter how fine the sentiment they express. We want action and we want real change.

More than anything, we want to be understood. And if you understood us, you would know that pity will not achieve anything of significance or substance.