Written by Naomi Schranz
I always knew that I was different, but until this year I didn’t know why. As I grew these differences grew with me; when I was a child I sat alone in kindergarten, and wasn’t particularly fond of hugs or kisses, even from my mum. I couldn’t stand loud noises and wouldn’t stop talking about Pokemon. The other kids and teachers picked up on my ‘otherness’ too, calling me such things as ‘strange’ and ‘freak’. After years of this, and noticing that I desperately wanted friends, I learnt to hide this ‘strangeness’, to not wince at loud noises or bright lights no matter how much they hurt. To not to talk too long about things I was passionate about, to stick to a socially acceptable script that I picked up from books and made sure that I was always looking into their eyes, even if it made me understand them less. Now, at twenty years old, I realise that I wasn’t broken, or a freak, I am just autistic.
This revelation occurred after I started seeking answers for my mental and physical illnesses that never seemed to go away. Most answers yielded nothing, until a video popped up on my YouTube feed titled ‘diagnosed with autism (aged 33!)’, I clicked and as I was watching I said to myself, ‘but that’s me, that’s my experience!”. After this I went down a rabbit hole of researching specifically how autism was presented in girls, and the experience of late diagnosed individuals. This research continued for about two years until I had the courage to be open about it and pursue a diagnosis… and to the surprise of everyone except me, I got it.
I thought the hardest part would be over. I had confirmation about my identity, I was at university studying psychology, I was in a stable relationship, and I would now be able to accommodate for myself and reach further heights. Except, I couldn’t be more wrong. One wouldn’t expect grieving to come from an event that one would consider positive, but after my diagnosis, I couldn’t help but grieve over the life I could’ve had if I had been diagnosed earlier. This is sadly a common response to a late autism diagnosis, which happens more often in those who have been assigned female at birth like myself. Many more adults have to remain self-diagnosed due to how inaccessible adult diagnoses are, in terms of price and awareness from medical professionals. Even then, after a diagnosis not much support would be given anyways past university, as no real support systems exist for adult autistic people with presentations like mine.
However, as I settled into the new community of autistic people, I came to know that I wasn’t alone in my experiences, and this was comforting and saddening at the same time. The latter being due to the realisation that most of us have to go through so much trauma for what can easily be rectified with awareness and acceptance. And so began my unmasking journey. I became aware of how many traits I was suppressing, which was why I felt so sick all the time. Exhaustion from masking, headaches from sensory overload, and much more. It was extremely difficult at first, for a multitude of reasons. The most prominent reason being those around me. I do not have the typical presentation of autism, and the lack of social awareness about non-stereotypical presentations leads many to believe that I am not. As such, they continued placing neurotypical standards on me, and, due to years of conforming to these standards, I felt uncomfortable unmasking, no matter how much harm it brought to me. However, I still remained open about it, and delved deeper into the community, and even joining TikTok for the community of autistic people who settled on that platform. And slowly, I was inspired to make content of my own, and was inspired by others’ unmasking journeys.
I had realised that most of my hardships came from the fact that the ones around me, even myself, did not accept who I truly am. Autism is a part of my identity, I would not be myself without it. I do not view it as a flaw, as it has never brought me harm, only the lack of understanding and acceptance from others has harmed me. I would not be as passionate, dedicated, or as empathetic without it. I share the same sentiment as many other autistic people that we do not need a cure, only to be accepted. I long for the day when one can consider autism as a trait much like we see extroversion and introversion. When you first hear about autism it is all about the ‘deficits’ the ‘problems’, but we are not burdens. Autism should not be viewed as some disease that needs a cure. We are humans, and just because we are different it does not mean that we have something wrong with us. All diversity, even neurodiversity, should be respected.
Follow Naomi’s journey on her TikTok account where she speaks about her experience, and join her Facebook group dedicated to autistic students.