Autism: Embracing My Disability

Author: Lizzie Cameron

Lizzie Cameron is using her gap year to change lives and inspire others as a Yipiyap tutor.

I'm not sure where to start. Every disability is unique, and every neurodivergent person is different. My experience isn't necessarily applicable to the whole disabled community; it isn't even applicable to the entire autistic community but I am sure it will resonate with many disabled people.

Can I use the word “disabled”?

Disabled isn't a 'dirty’ word; it's not an insult; it's a fact. So many people feel uncomfortable acknowledging difference and this leads to the stigma of disability and prevents disabled people from accessing the support they need. I would argue that whilst fear of difference isn't innate, it is very much conditioned into us as we grow up. Whether we like to admit it or not, remnants of that discomfort will remain in most of us throughout adulthood.

What does a person with autism experience?

For as long as I can remember, I felt different, I know this seems cliche, but I felt different even in my own home. I couldn't understand basic communication, I didn't understand how to behave appropriately, and I couldn't express myself. I wasn't unintelligent; if anything, I was the opposite. I overcompensated in academics from birth. However, as I grew up, I still struggled with things that, for everyone else, seemed natural or 'inbuilt'. Making friends was pretty much impossible for a while as my social skills weren't developed enough. As a result, my attempts weren't met with kindness.

I was severely bullied from primary school all the way up until Sixth Form, and as a result, my mental health crumbled. I was diagnosed at 13 with autism, but it was something that I felt ashamed of; I thought that it marked me as different. I refused to acknowledge it and therefore continued to struggle. My peers and school were expecting me to fit neurotypical standards, which was unachievable.

How I embraced autism

My mental health continued to deteriorate, and it wasn't until lower sixth that I finally hit my breaking point. I took an extended leave from sixth form and started the long journey to repair my sense of self.

Once I stopped expecting myself to keep up with my neurotypical counterparts, I realised that I just needed to do things differently. My mental health started to improve, and I returned to my studies. I realised that I needed time in between events to recover my' social battery' as whilst I was now open with my friends about my disability, I still had to 'mask' around them to fit in.

Masking and burnout

Appearing neurotypical, to the best of my ability, takes a huge amount of energy. In addition to all the stimulation that comes with going out would drain me. Little things like wearing a mask or labels in clothes or the wrong kind of socks can cause me a lot of stress even now, and I still have trouble understanding people's tone when they talk to me. But since I've embraced my disability and overcome my own fear of difference, my life has been so much easier.

I now ask you to introspect and look at how you can address that fear of difference, whether directed at yourself or others, as that is the first step to undoing the stigma around disability. Hopefully, this piece will prompt you to have a conversation with your disabled family members, friends, and colleagues about how you can help support them personally.