At a young age, I asked my parents if they had adopted me. A common question. My twist? Had I been adopted from an alien family?
Like many neurodivergent people, I struggled significantly to fit in and often felt I didn't belong. I felt allured by the fantasy that there might be another planet of beings I would feel more in common with who might be more welcoming of me.
Alas, no mothership arrived, and as I accepted my human-ness, I took strides to adapt.
I wanted to be a "good kid." So, in grade school, I memorized classroom rules. Still, somehow, my name seemed permanently etched on the blackboard.
As middle school rolled around, I wondered if joining cheer could be a gateway into the social hierarchy. I attended their orientation seminar. Yet, when my question of whether I could write a cheer for my dog instead of the school stood greeted by laughter and jabs rather than a serious answer, I knew I held no potential for the squad.
Most adolescents have a squiggly self-discovery journey. Mine proved to be especially so. Yet, in my differences, I came to embrace authenticity. Today, I feel a strong sense of self-direction and confidence in who I am.
In addition to my personal experiences, I have often encountered an interweave between autism and one's sense of self in my work as a therapist. It's common for me to be told tales of masking to an extent where one does not know what the true self is or what the mask is. In the same vein, I've noticed at times that my autistic adolescent clients seem to experience a different pattern of........