Reasons I thought I may be autistic: Childhood Signs Edition - Part 1
In the process of my diagnosis, I elected to write a voluntary dissertation of 10,000+ words, in one non-stop 6-hour session, as to why I might be autistic. Guess the assessment wasn't really needed.
Last summer, on the waiting list for my autism assessment, I decided to sit down and write down as many reasons as I could about why I thought I might be autistic. I’m sure the bemused looks on the psychiatrists’ faces when I turned up with those thirteen pages in a binder defined the moment they telepathically agreed: “there’s no way in hell she isn’t on the spectrum”.
In my quest for discovering what on earth was making everything so bafflingly difficult - when everyone else just seemed to be getting on with it and not having nervous breakdowns every eighteen months - I found other peoples’ first-person accounts of their autistic experiences to be life-changing. So I thought I’d share mine.
The experiences below are by no means universal; the saying goes: “if you know one person with autism, you know one person with autism” - but I hope some may resonate with you and be helpful in your own journey.
Last time, it was sensory differences, this week it’s childhood signs:
Supermarket meltdowns. Something that only came to light in the midst of my autism research/exploration, but I used to have full blown meltdowns in the supermarket as a child, with very little apparent reason. My mum sometimes would hide in the next aisle due to embarrassment until I calmed down
Touch avoidant. I was not a particularly tactile child - but I’m not sure whether this is a result of having a suspected-ASD dad and a self-professed ‘unmaternal’ mum
Very independent and introverted. My mum recalls being upset on my first day of school as I just ran straight into class without turning to wave, whilst my younger sister had a full on nervous tantrum and had to have the headmistress peel her off of my mum
Bizarre social obsessions. I would fixate on very random things as a child, such as the velvet headband that my Year 3 teacher would wear, to such an extent that my mum once brought it up to her thinking it was cute at a parents’ evening. I was understandably mortified. In Year 4, I took a liking to a young male supply teacher, who I found out was a fellow cat-lover (long-standing special interest) and orchestrated a group of girls to create this huge A2 encyclopaedic scrap-book of cat breeds, to present him with when he left the position
Accidental bluntness/not reading social cues. At Disneyland (aged 13), my nana had hinted that she really liked a little keychain in one of the shops - it was cheap and, in hindsight, she clearly would’ve liked it as a keepsake gift for bringing myself and my sister there. Without realising at the time (I didn’t realise for another decade or so), when she said “aww isn’t this nice?”, I just responded emphatically with “yes, you should buy it!”. Despite the fact I can now recall her seeming upset at the time, I didn’t put the two together for a long time afterwards
Not fitting in with other girls. I technically had a ‘friend group’ in primary school, but I always knew I didn’t quite fit in. I always wanted to organise and almost categorise all their dolls’ clothes, rather than engage in any imaginative play. When we did, I was always clumsy and tended to break things - which did not go down well - e.g. playing horses in the playground with the summer dresses that had waist-ties, and managing to be so overzealous that I ripped one of the girls’ dresses. I always felt a bit too much when I tried and too little when I tried to only observe
Preferring to socialise with adults. On the days where I got temporarily ousted from the friend group for one of my many well-meaning mishaps, I would gravitate towards the school dinner ladies/playground monitors/teaching assistants, finding that conversations with them made so much more sense and could often be centred around niche things. E.g. We had a teaching assistant (not the aforementioned supply teacher) who really liked Siamese cats, so we would spend lunchtimes exchange nerdy facts about cats. I suspect looking back that he was also on the spectrum, but I cherished those interactions in a world that was otherwise pretty lonely whenever I thought about it for too long
Hyperlexic. I devoured books as a child and was classed as ‘gifted/talented’. I was offered a scholarship to a private girls’ school, but turned it down as I was concerned that my working class background would cause me even more social issues than I had already experienced in a standard school setting
Peculiar interests. When I was in the last year of primary school, we had to write a biography in English about somebody we admired. All the girls in my class chose someone suitably en-vogue at the time - a Spice Girl, or Britney Spears - but I chose… Dido. I was absolutely obsessed with Dido - particularly the unique vocal inflections she sings in her songs - and the lyrics. Once when my cat died, I reworded one of her songs to be about the cat… I think that’s a good place to finish
Again, all to be taken with a pinch of salt insofar as true indicators of being autistic go - as we’re all individually weird and wonderful - but those were some elements of my childhood experience growing up undiagnosed. I hope some of it may resonate. There will be a part two for this one…
This is very relatable! After being diagnosed I began to reflect heavily on my childhood, and every day new things come to mind that make me go “hmm.” Like staring in the mirror to see exactly how my face moves and making sure I know how I look, so others perceive me correctly. My constant fidgeting or “dancing” when I need to be still. I also devoured books as a kid, so much so that I’d pick my book back up when my teacher stopped talking for only a few minutes.
I think about these things and want to hug little me, what a confusing world she went through! Not to mention all the social cues I inevitably had to learn from my own parents 🥲
Great remembrances. I can certainly relate to a few.
I remember the teacher asking us all what we wanted to do when we grow up and I had said Ghost Hunter because I was obsessed with the supernatural. He told me that wasn't a real job and I was outraged.