Showing posts with label passing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label passing. Show all posts

On Autism and Social Camouflaging: An Interview With Lily Levy

Lily Levy at INSAR 2018
[image: Lily Levy, a white British woman,
presenting a poster at an autism conference.]
INSAR 2019, the International Meeting For Autism Research, starts in three days. Before we begin our coverage, we'd like to emphasize research and themes from last year's conference INSAR 2018, in Rotterdam—so we can proceed with a grounded sense of how the two conference's priorities compare and contrast, especially in terms of research that affects autistic people's quality of life (QoL).

A consistent QoL theme of INSAR 2018 was autistic camouflaging, also known as "masking" or "passing." We spoke with Lily Levy, who led the INSAR 2018 presentation For Better or for Worse? Social Camouflaging, Mental Health and Wellbeing in Autistic Adults

Content note: Discussion of suidicality, bullying, and trauma.

Shannon Rosa of TPGA: I’m at INSAR 2018 with Lily Levy, whose group presented the poster on Social Camouflaging, Mental Health and Wellbeing in Autistic Adults. Could you tell us more about the university that you’re at, and the team you’re working with?

Lily Levy: Yes, so I feel like a bit of an anomaly actually. I’m here as a bit of a weird outsider. This work that we  did on masking—well, camouflaging is the term that we’re broadly using for it—was done last year while I was an MSc student at UCL [University College London]. My supervisor is Dr. Will Mandy.

I was doing lots of work with Will and his wonderful PhD student, Laura Hull, who I think has got about one more year to go with her PhD. That was for my Master’s. I still speak to them a lot and am doing lots of work with them, My day-job is back in the National Health Service where I coordinate an autism assessment clinic for young people, between 5 and 13, without intellectual disability. And I’m part of the multidisciplinary team doing diagnostic assessments there.

As an assistant psychologist. I’m a member of the multi-disciplinary team conducting assessments. I do lots of work coordinating the clinic, [managing the waiting list, and contributing to the strategic  development [of the clinic], [for example] how we involve stakeholders in how we run the clinic and the work that we do.

TPGA: So how did you get involved with the masking study?

Levy: As part of our Master’s we all have to do a thesis and they advertise lots of topics online. I was sitting in the computer cluster with a few other people and we all saw Will’s study simultaneously and we all said, “I want to do that!” I’d worked in child and adolescent mental health services previously before my Master’s, and then a bit of research into child development and mental health, I’d done lots of work with autistic young women and it was something that really interested me.

And I think, clinically, most people have a case that’s kind of locked in their mind that provokes them to want to do certain pieces of work, and for me it was this young woman who came to us with an anxiety disorder  where we should have put her forward for an autism assessment. It would have been helpful for her, I think, and she would have got a diagnosis. But I was very young, I was 21 or 22, very junior on the team. I was pushing for it and senior members of the team were saying, “no”.

TPGA: I’m making a face.

Levy: An appropriate one. And so that, for me, has always been logged in my mind as one of those things where I think, “oh! I wish I’d done that differently!” I feel like a lot of the time I use that as motivation.

TPGA: So you actually want to get to the people who need the services but aren’t necessarily being identified?

Levy: For sure.

TPGA: We’re hearing about those situations a lot, and I’m sure you’ve seen it firsthand a lot. It seems like there’s almost a generation of women who missed out on diagnoses because of historical theories about the causes and underlying mechanisms in autism.

Levy: Yeah. And I think we haven’t done a good enough job at backtracking on that.

TPGA: If you were given free rein in terms of this backtracking, what would you like to see happen?

[much laughter among both women]

Levy: There’s been loads of incredible work that’s been done but I do think that we have done—for me this is a feminist issue—we have done autistic women a disservice, especially autistic women in their middle age [who may have been missed]. We have not done a good enough job at all,  in including women in autism research. The fact that we’re still sitting here at this conference and seeing studies with all-male samples makes me so irritated. It is just inexcusable. And disseminating this research, I think, in terms of the science communication, we’ve done a poor job at that because it’s taken an incredibly long time [for this research] to filter down into practice, still.

And then on a practice level we have a responsibility. I look around at my clinic where we have very complex, very interesting discussions about what it means to have a female autism phenotype. I think it’s not surprising that we’re able to have these conversations because we’re a team made up of women. And we are really struggling to help referrers understand—at the grassroots level, this is about families and it’s about referrers understanding that autism looks very different in different people, and making the referrals for these young people in the first place so they can have assessments. Because, generally speaking, when people get to the stage of having assessments, you would expect—you would hope—that that team is specialist enough to be making those nuanced decisions about, “well, actually, she’s just coping or camouflaging really well. But there’s a huge amount going on underneath and we need to be astute enough to see that and recognize what she’s telling us.”

TPGA: Okay. That’s interesting. How did you recruit people for a masking study?

Levy: We did a lot of work with ARC [Autism Research Centre] in Cambridge. Paula Smith, one of the co-authors of the study, did an incredible amount of work because she manages the Cambridge Autism Research Database, and helped us massively by recruiting participants from that. Then there was a large group of us using the same sample for different pieces of research, all centered mostly around camouflaging. Laura Hull was doing lots of the recruitment for that and we were all kind of pushing it on social media and recruiting from different pockets. I think it went out through the BPS Research Digest and through the Asperger/Autism Network (AANE). Lots of different places.

TPGA: How did you find people? What kind of language did you use to describe the people that you wanted?

Levy: We just said, “are you an autistic adult who is…” I’m not sure if we used functioning language or not, but ‘are you able to read,’ essentially, was the requirement, plus a diagnosis of autism. “Are you over 18 and would you like to fill out a questionnaire to help us with some research.” I think it was on "social behaviors," that’s how we couched it.

TPGA: So the data that emerged from that came from the cohort that you had recruited, rather than recruiting specifically for camouflaging?

Levy: Absolutely. A lot of the work on camouflaging that’s been done so far is qualitative, which is one of the reasons why I love it as a research area—it’s literally come from the words of autistic people. I think that’s one of the reasons why, in all of the areas of autism research that I’ve looked at and been part of, it feels like it’s the most genuinely respectful. We’re learning from the experiences of autistic people, instead of imposing this top down research driven, like, “now we’re going to look at your genes.”

TPGA: I don’t know if you saw the INSAR 2018 op-ed I wrote for Spectrum, before the conference began?

Levy: No.

TPGA: It was basically about how this conference, specifically, has become much more autistic-informed. I would say that I was optimistic coming in, but it’s been even more intense and welcome than I had expected. I do wonder how much of that has to do with the proximity to the UK because, having gone to conferences in the UK and the United States, the UK ones were always leaps and bounds ahead, in terms of having autistic keynote speakers and being autistic-informed and autistic-led.

And then at this year's INSAR stakeholder luncheon we had John Spiers from the UK autism organization Autistica, and one thing he was mentioned that really impressed me was how Autistica was doing what you were talking about, how the direction of their research was autistic-informed. Autistic didn't merely ask, “well, what should we study?” They said, “let’s ask people what they want studied.” And then they don’t only want to do studies that with the goal of “let’s study this thing and find out what happens.” They want to study something and then come up with next steps. Which makes me wonder, did your study come up with any kind of actionable items?

Levy: So the findings of our study were related to camouflaging as measured by the Camouflaging Autistic Traits Questionnaire (CAT-Q) which Laura Hull has been developing. We also looked at objective-ish indicators of outcome in a really crude sense, like education status and relationship status.

And then we looked at measures of psychopathology, or mental health. Measures of depression, social anxiety, and generalized anxiety, and a measure of wellbeing, because we wanted to unpick a bit some of the stuff that we’re beginning to see emerging from the qualitative research. Generally most of this work has been done with women thus far, and they were saying that, “yes, we think that sometimes camouflaging is helpful for us because it allows us to pass essentially as neurotypical, but it’s exhausting. It takes a massive toll. It takes a huge cognitive load. It saps your cognitive processes. And it makes me feel like a fraud because I feel like I’m pretending all the time.” So we sometimes naïvely think, from a neurotypical perspective, that camouflaging is a super-positive thing. “Oh, we can make autistic people behave like neurotypical people.”

TPGA: And that’s why we’ve had ABA for so long.

Levy: Right. Exactly. And that’s one of the things that was lodged in my mind, actually. I don’t know enough about ABA to be a vehement critic of it but I do know what autistic people that I work with and who I’m friends with tell me. And that’s, generally speaking, what I’m going to go by.

But also, we think we do social communication interventions with children all the time and we present these strategies that we’re teaching them, you know, “you make eye contact like this” as universally helpful. Yet we know what happens in the brain for some autistic people when we force them to make eye contact. For some, it’s literally painful. So I was thinking about these interventions that we use and how we present them. What we found in the work that I presented here was that camouflaging score was a pretty good predictor of  higher scores on measures of depression, generalised anxiety and social anxiety.

TPGA: So a high camouflaging score…?

Levy: Yes. The more camouflaging you engaged in, the more likely you were to have a high score on a measure of anxiety, social anxiety, and depression. The [Camouflaging Score] had no impact on wellbeing. That’s not a negative impact; it’s just none. And I think it’s possibly because the measure of wellbeing that we used is not validated on an autistic population. We don’t have many good measures yet for quality of life.

TPGA: What kind of criteria did you use for well being?

Levy: We used a measure called the Warwick-Edinburgh Mental WellBeing Scales which is pretty widely used, but again—like most measures—not validated with autistic people. So I was really excited to hear about the work on quality of life and the World Health Organisation’s Quality of Life Measure (WHOQoL-BREF) that was presented [by David Mason and the researchers from Newcastle University] here, because I think it’s so important. That was the biggest thing that bugged me throughout the whole of this thesis, and I was frantically looking for “what can you tell me about wellbeing, quality of life, and outcomes for autistic adults?” And nearly everything that I was finding was about wellbeing and quality of life for autistic people's families: for their parents, for their siblings, or even for professionals working with them. I thought, this is very strange.

TPGA: Yes, it is.

Levy: I think perhaps the fact that the measure wasn’t validated properly on the population that we were working with and talking to was problematic. That’s something that I would probably change. So it’s not just that there’s no relationship between camouflaging score and wellbeing score, but  also, on those objective indicators of outcome higher camouflaging scores for men or women had no impact on whether or not participants were in relationships or whether they were in work. So you might think you’re much more likely to be in gainful full-time employment or in a romantic relationship if you can more easily pass as neurotypical. But actually, in our sample, which was pretty big—315 people—we didn’t find that.

TPGA: Wow. So there’s no associations to be made there?

Levy: Yet. It’s preliminary. We’d like to do more. But what was really interesting is that the "Suicide and Bullying in ASD" oral session. Sarah Cassidy at Nottingham—this is the first time I’ve seen someone do some similar work [with regard to negative consequences of camouflaging]—presented research that indicated that camouflaging was the best predictor of suicidality in their sample.

TPGA: Oh, hell.

Levy: I know. It hit me in the gut. I just thought, don’t tell me this isn’t important now.

[The suicide and bullying session] was the most powerful series—and everyone knew it would be, I think—there was some other stuff, like general suicidality in the autistic versus the non-autistic population, and it’s something like 17% of all autistic women had made a suicide attempt.

TPGA: And I think you said that it didn’t matter if there was intellectual disability or not—it was a similar rate?

Levy: Yeah, that’s what they said in the oral session. But you could hear people gasping and I looked around the row of the people I was sat with, and I think all of us were slightly fighting back tears because it was so shocking. And it’s stuff that we know and autistic people know but to see it so starkly laid out…

TPGA: This is the third year in a row that Sarah Caassidy has presented on suicide at INSAR. We interviewed her two years ago, when was still on the preliminary part of the study and it just seems like the more she finds out about the reality of autism and suicidality, the more depressing it is.

Levy: That's why I think it’s important to be attached to research institutions and to research groups like the one I was working with at UCL, that work so closely with great autistic researchers and advocates—people like Robyn Steward, for example. You have to have those voices in the work that you’re doing, and somebody to lance it slightly and say, “this is nonsense,” or, “you need to add this up, actually this is what’s important. Your focus is wrong.”

TPGA: Yeah, we just don’t have anything like Autistica in the U.S. We just don’t. We have the Autistic Self Advocacy Network but they work more on policy and resource, not so much on funding and guiding research—even though they have members who sit on the IACC [Interagency Autism Coordinating Committee], which is the autism policy advisory board for the National Institute of Health. But nothing equivalent to Autistica. Just hearing Mr. Spiers describe actually what Autistica does in the UK made me think, “Ah! That’s what we need in the U.S.!”

Levy: Yeah. I think it would be awesome to see similar things springing up—because you can tell there’s an appetite.

TPGA: We do have AASPIRE which has been great in terms of participatory research, specifically in health and well-being, I don’t know if you know of them.

Levy: Yes, they’re awesome

TPGA: Yeah, AASPIRE has been around since 2006, but they’re basically three people as opposed to Autistica which has a budget of two million pounds, they said. Something like that.

Well, is there anything that we didn’t ask you about that you wanted to talk about with regards to your work?

Levy: Not really, I guess. We’re just thinking about how to develop it and where to take it next. We’re thinking about its applications and implications. I’m particularly interested as someone who is a practitioner as well. I do post-diagnostic work with families and with young people. I want to think about how we can get other people to do similar things [discussing camouflaging and its potential impacts with young autistic people who have just had a diagnosis].

There are also lots of amazing different ways of operationalizing camouflaging so we’ve used this questionnaire that Laura has developed, which is great. But there are also other people like Professor Meng-Chaun Lai at the University of Toronto, who use a kind of discrepancy-based approach to camouflaging: Taking the difference between your internal autistic state [for instance on self-report measures of autistic traits] and a kind of more external, behavioural state as measured by the ADOS. And the difference between those two scores indicates the level of camouflaging—which is a really elegant way of doing it.

It would be really great to see if we could do a bit more replication to think about how much this research bears out in terms of the positive and the negative outcomes and affiliations, I guess, of camouflaging in autistic people. It’s really important that we carry on doing that with mixed samples because we haven’t quite teased out what those gender differences are yet at all, and it’s really important that we do.

TPGA: Oh, and just in terms of the gender differentiation, did you have just men and women? Did you have any trans folks in your group? Is there any way to quantify for that?

Levy: There was a very small number of non-binary people, and I couldn’t work out how to factor that in [to the analysis just yet], in terms of power, so I think maybe we could have done a bit more specific recruitment, especially now knowing what I know after the gender talks here. I think it would be really interesting and super important, just based on the numbers, that that’s represented somewhere.

TPGA: Cool. Well, thank you very much for talking with me. I really appreciate it.

Levy: Thank you.

----
Transcription by Max Sparrow
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#AutisticWhileBlack: Diezel Braxton And Becoming Indistinguishable From One's Peers

Kerima Çevik
theautismwars.blogspot.com

The author's idea of what displaying autism positivity looks like
[Image: a Black woman over 50 with braided gray hair wearing
Neurodiversity 3.0 by ThinkGeek, a black T-shirt with a world globe
 design on the upper chest area in the shape of a human brain,
colored in physical map fashion i.e., water is colored light blue
 and land masses green, clouds white, looking to her left
 over bent wire-rimmed glasses in that way that mothers look at
 their children when an outrageous behavior has just ensued.]
There is an article in a paper called The Daily Net, about singer Toni Braxton's 16-year-old son Diezel working as a professional model for the past two years. The article refers to him as "formerly autistic." It goes on to say he has, "fortunately, moved past" autism and is now a celebrity himself.

Apparently, when her son was thirteen, Ms. Braxton was told he no longer met the criteria for autism. According to the article, she goes on to say:

“I am one of the lucky parents. Early diagnosis changes everything. I will tell you this. I will shout it from the rooftops. My son Diezel is off the spectrum. Off the spectrum being autistic.”

I beg to differ. There is no cure for autism.

Autism is a neurological divergence that doesn't just go away. One doesn't "move past" the wiring of a brain that has obvious neurological and physical differences. Calling current interventions for autism "treatments" is a misnomer that confuses parents. These interventions do not cure autism. They suppress visible signs of neurodivergent minds, forcing a type of behavioral code-switching that allows an autistic person to appear to navigate the world around them, such that they blend in with nonautistic peers.

This is not a cure. The price paid when forced training in compliance and the suppression of coping mechanisms is pursued—instead of investigating and addressing the root causes of coping mechanisms and misunderstood behaviors—may later manifest later in "formerly autistic" adults as mental health challenges, and PTSD.

A parental demand that Diezel should not display any sign that he is autistic has been issued for public consumption, from a mother who has no understanding of being autistic—except to view her son's brain as an enemy he must fight, and defeat. Is telling your adult son to hate his own brain, and how it works, a good thing? This sounds more like the very definition of how internalized ableism happens.

Toni Braxton would not tell her son that his melanin and hair are abhorrent things that he must combat and chemically suppress so he can be "indistinguishable from his white peers." I wonder why its okay to tell him to hate the nature of his own neurology? Most of the innovations, discoveries, and creative artistry in this world came from neurodivergent minds. Nina Simone was bipolar, as were many other great musicians. Many creative people are autistic. Presumption of a cure when the symptoms of a divergent mind are no longer apparent deprives neurodivergent individuals of their future rights to critical mental health, and other supports they may need to access going forward.

It is truly harmful to hold up an autistic teen and call him "formerly" autistic. If he has trauma, anxiety, or any future issues, his own mother's insistence that his lifelong disability is gone might lead him to hesitate in seeking help, to feel inadequate, to feel unable to request critical accommodations and supports that might significantly improve the quality of his life—or save it.

Diezel is the son of a celebrity, so his life is at this moment might appear significantly better than that of his African American peers. But this path of using an incorrect term for his becoming indistinguishable from his peers is dangerous to our community, and wrong.

Toni Braxton's type of rhetoric, along with parading her teen son around as inspiration porn, could have other parents exerting increased pressure on their own offspring to be "formerly autistic"—and if those young people have a degree of disability that makes becoming indistinguishable from their peers unrealistic, it could irrevocably harm them.

The author's idea of an autism positive autistic male model. 
With permission, and yes, we have matching Neurodiversity 3.0 
t-shirts. He is wearing his, bought deliberately 
large because the collar would disturb him otherwise.
 The photo matters because it defies professional
assessments of his degree of disability.
 He is facing me while I'm photographing him,
 he's looking right at me, and he's sending a
kiss in my direction. 
[Image of a multiracial teen with curly hair
at a table in a black t-shirt with a
drawing of a human brain
colored to look like a physical map of the world
 with the word Neurodiversity in all caps
 and green lettering beneath it.
A refrigerator can be seen in the background as
can parts of a sitting room behind him. © Kerima Cevik]
The crushing element of structural ableism, which breeds internalized ableism when nurtured by this type of parental gaslighting, may have emotional consequences at a later time in Diezel's life, and that truly concerns me. His mother clearly hates the autism label, and views autism in the same way she views the Lupus diagnosis she carries. I wonder how this has informed his identity and his sense of self-worth? I wonder if Diezel has been assessed for conditions like prosopagnosia, synesthesia, or auditory processing disorders? Has he been tested for Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS)? These common autism traits and co-occurring conditions are rarely tested for, or addressed, in African American autistic populations.

As African Americans, we are forced to code switch, to suppress African American Vernacular English (AAVE) and cultural differences that make us who we are—unless those differences in language and manner have already been culturally appropriated. Ebonics is still deliberately treated as something less than acceptable. It is still a major issue when natural hair is worn to school, or work. It is still a risk when AAVE is used in traditional work settings, or public spaces. The suppression of Black identity that necessitates code-switching to gain employment perpetuates structural racism. This type of racism has been exposed, deconstructed, and understood to be harmful. We now insist on being ourselves, and this has direct positive effects on the acceptance of our own Black identities. This reduces internalized racism and has created an entirely new generation of young Black activists who are able to continue to fight for the basic human rights we deserve as African Americans.

Toni Braxton's celebrity, and her wrongheaded understanding of autism, have been used for years to muddle the African American community's attitudes about autism. She allowed herself to be used to present autistic brains as things to be eradicated, and this is unacceptable. Her attitude sets up a dangerous mentality that is unsustainable, as you cannot eradicate your child's brain.

Braxton has been vocal and public in her portrayal of autism as a disease to be suppressed and defeated, rather than as a lifelong disability, and this has had a devastating impact on how our people view their own autistic children. We have a disproportionate number of autistic high school graduates who could succeed in college with the understanding that supports exist to help them navigate university life on every college campus. Our community views autism as a mark of shame, an embarrassment, and celebrity parents like Ms. Braxton continue to be instrumental in perpetuating these attitudes of ableism that hold multitudes of autistic youth back, when her intention appears to give our people some sort of hope and inspiration.

It is time to make the harm Braxton is causing clear, and speak up for the sake of so many autistic young adults and teens who live with self-loathing in part because of celebrity parents who inadvertently gaslight them with the attitudes that the things that make a young person autistic must be code switched off, suppressed—and who they really are must be either hidden away, or eradicated.

The average life expectancy of an autistic person is 36. I would argue that what makes navigating this world as an autistic person so risky is not just being autistic; it is the way every layer of society bakes ableism into the structure of autistic lives, such that from childhood to adolescence it becomes internalized, and increases risks of harm. We parents have to stop contributing to this cycle of loathing and alienation with misinformation, myths, and false narratives. It's time we understand the impact that our words and actions have on our children, and on the entire autism community.

I can't keep Toni Braxton from misinforming the public about her opinions on autism or her son. I can't keep her from continuing to speak about him without him, although he is now a celebrity in his own right and supposedly capable of speaking for himself. But what I can do is point out what is wrong about her behavior, and the damage it is doing. What we can all do is recognize what Braxton is doing, and not pave the road to autism hell by allowing ourselves to be led by celebrity or personalities. We need to seek peer-reviewed factual knowledge of what autism is, and understand how we can facilitate a better life for our children, by arming them with accurate, empowering facts.
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Autism, Transmasculine Identity, and Invisibility

Transgender Pride flag
The Transgender Pride Flag
By SVG file Dlloyd based on Monica Helms design [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
[image: A flag with five horizontal stripes. The center stripe is white, flanked by two pink stripes,
then a light blue stripe at the top and the bottom.

Devin S. Turk
@devinst97

Everyone in my life knows that I’m transgender. Comparatively, very few people know about another major part of me: that I’m autistic.

At age twenty-one, I’ve come to understand that many of my young adult years have centered around trying to bridge the gap between my two ways of being: The way that I present myself to the world, and the way that I perceive who I am. I imagine that someday, hopefully soon, those two components of my life won’t feel far apart. And hey, sharing this essay might even help.

I realized I was trans when I was fifteen, but just a year before had come a revelation of similar scale and importance to me; my diagnosis of Asperger’s syndrome (which is now referred to as Autism Spectrum Disorder.) I experience many symptoms or “traits” of ASD, and I won’t mention all of them here, but it’s worth saying that my traits are not obvious to the untrained eye. Underneath the mask, though, lies a deep unsureness of how to regulate social interaction. To cope, I copy, or “mirror” other people in order to appear more socially fluent and less awkward. And it works. Many people close to me might say that I “blend in” very well, in more ways than one.

Now that I’ve been on testosterone hormone replacement therapy for close to three years now, my voice is deeper, my jaw is squarer, and I even have a bit of facial hair. When I tell people that I was assigned the sex “female” at birth, they often say something to the effect of “I would have never guessed!” This is typically meant as a compliment, but to me, it feels patronizing.

In an eerily parallel way, people react very similarly when I disclose to them that I’m autistic. In both scenarios, the disbelief is caused by the preconceived notions of what it “looks like” to be transgender or autistic. I credit the testosterone as the reason I am not read as female, and to some degree, I credit my socialization as a reason I am not perceived as autistic.

Professionals who diagnose Autism Spectrum Disorder are, in general, proficient at recognizing autistic traits in males. After all, the original model for autism was based on studies of mostly young boys. Some doctors are still catching up to being able to recognize such traits in girls and women, but people are becoming increasingly aware that autism presents itself differently in girls than in boys. For example, autistic girls are more likely than boys to be masters of “social camouflage,” which masks their traits of ASD.

So, where do I fit into this framework as a transmasculine person? Yes, I identify as more male than female. However, I lived the first eighteen years of my life as a girl, and so I believe many of my ways of interacting with the world are byproducts of being socialized as female. But when I walk into my doctor’s office, they will likely overlook the significance of my history because they see that I now present as male, despite having a lot of learning experience in the world as a girl.

I’m the same degree of socially clumsy and unsure as when I was presenting as female, yet doctors who are new to my case and doctors who don’t know me well are less likely to agree with my diagnosis. Doctors will commonly overlook my noticeable lack of eye contact and my significant difficulties with Sensory Processing Disorder (which is a common co-occurring condition in autistic people) or severely under-appreciate just how utterly exhausting it is for me to engage with others. Maybe they don’t understand how much my executive dysfunction holds me back. Maybe they don’t believe me when I tell them that when I’m alone, I often flap my hands when I get excited as a means of expression, or that I rock back and forth when I’m focused on something. All of these experiences are very real to me, and yet they seem invisible to so many medical professionals, simply because I don’t outwardly appear to check all the boxes while I’m sitting across from them.

In addition to feeling unheard and unseen, my autistic traits are sometimes swept under the clinical rug and regarded as symptoms of conditions such as depression or severe social anxiety. I suppose it’s an easy enough mistake to make, but such a misunderstanding of my neurotype can lead to misdiagnosis, which could potentially then cause doctors to prescribe medicine and recommend treatments that may do more harm than good.

After receiving handfuls of labels from the DSM as well as literally dozens of unsuccessful psychiatric medications over the years, I’ve learned that much of the way I am is not something to be treated with various therapies and pills. This is not to say that autistic individuals cannot experience things like depression or anxiety which may be very much relieved via therapy and/or medication. I have simply realized that in my specific situation, the best route from here forward is perhaps to make peace with and embrace the qualities that set me apart from neurotypicals, or those who don’t experience neurological differences.

The intersection of being both autistic and transgender is more common than one might think. While the dialogue around autism and gender identity is expanding, I have a bit of trouble figuring out where I fit into the whole picture. So, I decided to do my own research, and while this subject is a fairly new field of study, I found some pretty astounding statistics:

In 2014, a U.S. study of 147 children (ages 6 to 18) diagnosed with ASD found that autistic participants were 7.59 times more likely to express gender variance than the comparison groups. Another study, conducted in the UK in 2015, involved 166 parents of teenagers with Gender Dysphoria (63% were assigned female-at-birth.) Based on parents’ report of their children on the Social Responsiveness Scale, the study found that 54% of the teenagers scored in the mild/moderate or severe clinical range for Autism.

The relationship has only begun to be explored in research in recent years, but I’ve come to realize that there are a lot of autistic trans people out there in the world. As someone who very much values human connection and simultaneously struggles with it, I have to say that looking at those figures provided me an amount of comfort. I discovered that there are a lot of people just like me.

Being autistic and being transgender certainly each has their own respective challenges, though one that they share is a lack of societal acceptance due to stigma. Many people still believe that who I am as a transmasculine person is inherently invalid, just like many other people still believe autism is some kind of tragedy that is to be cured. In contrast, I feel very strongly that who I am as a person is heavily dependent on both my trans and autistic identities, and that they are beautiful things. 

I would not be the person I am today if I did not have the incredible perspective that being transgender as well as being autistic has given me. My worldview has been altered by these two factors in particular in ways that I consider enlightening. Sure, I have tough days. But would I exchange all that I am in return for the promise of a simpler, more typical life? Most definitely not. Because after all, I’ve found that one of the best things about being dealt a different hand of cards is the unambiguous and fulfilling joy that is learning to accept oneself wholeheartedly.
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