Chapter 3: Unmasking My Autistic Self

Hardships, friendships. This is autism!

In 2017, I was finally on vacation, after I had reconciled with the burnout of trying to land the right job, with more than 5 years invested to avoid ending up exactly where I was.

I had just finished attending the full-stack course in a Toronto-based institute used by top tech firms for onboarding and career training purposes. I did not finish the course, I was struggling to, as I was privy to observing all the wrong ways we were being asked to go about things.

I had to attend the course to try to turn my life around, after waking up one day to find I was not willing to even get out of bed. When I could not do it until I phoned my supervisor and told them I am not coming in. When I was already doing it a handful of times in succession. When it was the one-day weekly gig I’d readily volunteered at for a little over a year.

I did not give up trying. Until I had to accept, that it was obvious to me, I’d already given up. That pushing it a day or more each time, it was all chore to allow me to see myself convinced I had not given up. When through it all, I genuinely believed I was trying still. When at the same time, on a much deeper lever, I was slowly learning that it was no longer the tenable outlook I once thought it to be, no matter how hard I would end up trying.

I had already given up trying. When I was there volunteering my time. When deep-down, I was privy to observing when each time I went, I was tricked with words. When I was told what would make me think I was going there to do what I was willing to be there to do in the first place, when we’d agreed to a year prior. When all I did so far was exactly what I said I was not there to do, and I was perpetually growing trapped indulging in many personal favours and seemingly logical precedence.

I had given up trying. When I was unconsciously aware of what I was not allowing myself to reconcile with in my conscious mind just yet. When I was masking my innate gifts and most genuine of feelings.

I had given up trying. When I was using socially accepted narratives, to mask how far off my world actually got.

I had previously given up caring. When before I volunteered, I invested 2 years lining up the perfect jobs, then 2 more years trying hard to reconcile with how pointless all that work I had put turned out to be.

I had previously given up caring. When my peers openly disclosed to me how they lied to get the jobs I was never even interviewed for. When what I was putting up in my resume was the real deal. With more than 10 years of careful hard work to make it all real. When I was not willing to do what they did. That I was instead hitting burnout. When I was stuck seeking this balance in bullets and language. Where I cared genuinely that I did not make it sound more or less than what I considered I’d be implying.

I had given up caring, and given up trying. When I was using socially accepted narratives, to mask how far off my world actually got.

I had now given up hoping. When each and every time, I had cared, and I still tried. Until I was hopeless to the point known only by few. When I was now in the darkest place, where most try giving it all up when they do.

I was blessed in those rare moments with the gift of mindfulness in acceptance, that it was not possible for me to do with what’s most offered, to mask how far off my world actually got.

I had given up hoping, for hope. I saw my world for what it was. Even when I was still being motivated by those around me, to not look like I had give up trying, nor to look like I had given up caring. When without hope, it was the one thing left for me to hold on to. The sense of belonging offered by those who tried and cared, who hoped, who masked, who seemed, and only asked for the same in return, to mask how far off my world actually got.

I was finally on vacation, after I had reconciled with the burnout of trying to land the right job, with more than 5 years invested to avoid ending up exactly where I was. I found my way back to the lost sense of belonging, preparing myself for a new 5 year journey. To discover and unmask who I really am, figure out what I’m meant to do, learn how I’m meant to do it, and find out where I’m meant to belong. This is autism.

In 2018, I realized I was making and retroactively revising toxic comments on GitHub, passing through a regression phase in my communication, I will never allow myself to forget how this all played out.

I was met by a rare individual that day, who reminded me of something I had missed for a very long time.

The issue was my own, as I was furious with the current state of developer tooling, trying to find frictionless ways around hardwired defaults that keep cluttering my world.

The issue was not my own, as I was internalizing suffering from what I saw as audacity of mainstream popular appeal, trying to find frictionless ways with hardwiring defaults that ought to be making everyone’s lives less cluttered.

Everywhere I went, every issue I was opening, I needed to find good words to make and defend my case. No, I understand very well what the underlying principles are, and I’m telling you, you’re not seeing things right.

Everywhere I went, I was quickly deemed the ignorant buffoon. I was corrected for not understanding how the world works, until people decided to give up on trying, and now they would ignore me like I was supposed to somehow get somewhere with all those unresolved disputes.

Everywhere I went, I had to notice the miscommunication patterns. I had to observe those discriminatory patterns, because I was not being heard, and my world was growing more and more toxic by the minute. Until one person decided to do something different, and they got rightfully pissed.

I did the most intuitive thing. I made sure I edited my words to make them less toxic, then kept my head down hoping they would act like it was not as bad as they made me want to think, until later, when I then decided to stop and actually think.

Everywhere I had gone, I had to learn to guard myself from the toxicity of those miscommunication patterns. I had to force myself to observe their discrimination, and it is something very painful for anyone to try to stick around long enough to actually see. Which they would, if they may find emotional tradeoffs in why they ought to see. If they are neurologically wired to be able to stick around long enough to see. If they are neuropsychologically vested, liking rewards to want to, hating punishment to need to, or folks like me, who just end up trapped pivoting in between.

Everywhere I had gone, I went in hoping for liking, I left hating, and the cycle repeats. I was growing perpetually traumatized, over the course of 3 years, until I was already going in hating, before I even waited long enough to see who was on the other side. I was no longer aware of how toxic my own words read, because my toxic words did not stick out much in those weeds, where empathy was no longer obliged. Until I was reminded once again, that it was always only my own tone that I had to mind.

Everywhere I had gone, I ended up forgetting a little more of who I was, I tried to fit into the right mask, until the moment I was met by someone with a most genuine passion and empathy, true to form constructive criticism, a conflict averted, my toxicity and gaslighting, none of that was getting rewarded, until kindness was the only currency I was left to mind, something I had missed for a very long time, where I was absolutely the bad guy, and so I will never allow myself to forget how this all played out.

Everywhere I had gone, I went there thinking I was tending to my issues, thinking I was there to become a better developer, but what I was not yet privy to, the next few months will forever change my life.

Everywhere I had gone, I went there looking for a friend, and I am not mistaking my words. Until proven otherwise, for me, I will consider someone I’d never met before to be my friend, and I always want to get to know anyone I consider to be my friend, because all a friend is, someone that makes you see the self you actually are, who makes you look underneath, to mind your mask, and to realize, it was you who is meant to come to belong. This is autism.

In 2019, I made a lot of enemies, along with a few friends, working to understand the true meaning of Diversity and Inclusion, empowerment and disempowerment, ability and disability, to see the world from a different frame of reference than most would.

I saw the meaning with my own eyes, along with enough patterns to know how immutable the world is to anyone trying to point out when there is discrimination, that I was discriminated against was never a problem. But, once I dared say it happened, now that was enough for almost everyone to stop even wanting to have around a faint reminder of my existence.

I saw the meaning, when hardly anyone wants to face the giant, especially if they do not even need to face Goliath, aside from few, some who are meant to audition for the role of David, but for the most part, it was auditioning in itself that was seemingly exclusive from the start.

I saw the meaning with other eyes, when my friends saw it with their own eyes, and later on when it was portrayed in an episode of one of the more popular medical dramas, which painted a picture of a young teen who was trapped in observing injustice.

The all too familiar paintings by vested media, empathizing with the suffering, yes, but not with the meaning. When they would diagnose this brilliant youth with disenfranchisement syndrome, like it was their sickness to dare complain there’s abuse.

I had seen the meaning, when hardly anyone wants to face the sickness. If it was the condition of those who were not willing to realize their role in any of it. If it was the condition of those who get offended when you dare react to their very clearly displaced microaggressions. If it was the condition of those who get offended when you dare demand they mind what they are leaking, when they are more angry with you, about what they are too afraid to face. If deep-down David was in fact Goliath, or the reverse, depending on which side of the narrative your world offers in it more meaning.

I had seen the meaning with my own eyes, along with enough patterns to know how immutable the world is to anyone accepting those patterns, that reflect what for them was meant to be their world, to anyone trying to point out, how that was not discrimination, that I was doing it, that many times over we are all doing it, and that was always the problem. This is autism.

In 2020, I made a lot of friends, along with a few enemies, working to understand the true meaning of Neurodiversity, typicality and atypicality, accessibility and functionality, to see the world from many different frames of reference than most could.

I saw the reality with my own eyes, when discrimination is the most easily traded currency in society, it will be best to avoid pointing out the obvious when it was starring us all in the face, but even when the question remains unasked by most, I already saw how it was a mistake to not ask it early on, because as obvious as it may sound, we do not live in a society immune to the effects of the underlying message.

I saw the reality, not that only black lives mattered, but also not quite that all lives mattered. When certainly the privileges and crimes are aligned with what might be implied, as you start pondering how your own world offers in it more meaning. When in this society we share wording only when it resonated so that it went far, when it was resonating with the more familiar patterns, the viral popular appeal of a viral mainstream. When it was not quite a dare in the form of a dare, in the face of centuries of a similarly elusive unrelenting dare.

I saw the reality with other eyes, when it was keeping everyone busy to notice that it was. That it was only when everyone got a second and started looking around for the first time, that it was long enough to notice two-steps out, but not long enough to notice a third or more steps, along those same lines.

I saw the reality, the unfortunate effects of fighting against robbed pride while the fight was always meant to be for inclusion and equity. That we may find empowerment in belonging when it is about pride, that we may even confuse it, genuinely become convinced that it was about inclusion and equity, until the music stops. When we would realize, those songs about pride, they had resonated far and wide, with the ones about inclusion and equity falling further apart, and the difference all in the meaning.

The songs which had come to resonate with the masses of like folks, and those on the other side. The songs that articulated where lies the boundaries and distance in the divide. Because they sing of pride, that they resonate most with those who had the most to lose more than most.

I had seen reality with other eyes, those who will still prefer to cut as little of their losses, at the expense of those who will first have to dare. And, those who will now have to make their own elusive dare. If they too dare to sing to their own tune. If they too choose to sing one that would come to resonate with the masses of like folks. If they too would ever escape the injustices trickling down, to offset losses still not being taken, by those who have the most to lose more than most.

I had seen reality with my own eyes, when discrimination is the most easily traded currency in society, it will be best to avoid pointing out the obvious if that is the society we wanted to see ourselves trapped in. If neurodiversity was not about neurotypicality, as much as it was about neurodivergence. If diversity was not about neurodiversity, as much as it was the other way around. If discrimination was not about what we do, as much as it was about what others do. If it was obvious that it was all just too stressful for us to find it all too obvious otherwise. This is autism.

In 2021, I made more friends, even when some were left to wonder if we were not just meant to be enemies, even when I myself almost gave into wondering the same, and yet we still decided to push against the most deep-seated of fears, than to default and let them sink. This is autism.

In every interaction, we were learning how it was more so in hardships that we may find the most genuine of friendships. This is autism.

Two friends, they cry, then laugh. This is autism.

In every interaction, when we try to see the other side, when we try to see our own side from the other side, this is friendship. This is autism.

Two friends, they argue, then heal. This is autism.

In every interaction, when we are doing that, when we may not even be aware that we are, when it is not even considered to take place from the other side, this is hardship. This is autism.

Two friends, they mind, then feel. This is autism.

In every interaction, when we try, when we fail, when we then try again, until we succeed, that is all it takes, the hardships, that we choose to overcome, what it takes to genuinely grow our friendships. This is autism.

Hardships, friendships. This is autism.

In every interaction, we find what is wonderful and meaningful, because it is truly the most empowering of all gifts. When we embrace autism, when we embrace diversity, we embrace inclusion, and equity. This is autism.

Belonging. This is autism.

In every interaction, we get to choose. We get to decide try to stick with what we choose. If it was the masks that made us belong, if it was autism that made us mask, and the difference all in the meaning.

In every interaction, we get to dare, to learn, until we find meaning, when it was always about the hardships of daring to be who we are, deep-down, that we’d come to grow into who we are meant to be, to belong.

Daring to mask when it is meant.
Daring to unmask when it is meant.

Daring to dare when it is meant.
Caring to care when it is meant.

That it was autism that made us care.
It was autism that made us dare.

It was autism that made us cry.
It was autism that made us laugh.

It was autism that made us argue.
It was autism that made us heal.

It was autism that made us mind.
It was autism that made us feel.

It was autism that made us mask.
It was autism that made us strong.
It was autism that made us belong.
It was autism all along.

This is autism.

When your gut tells you someone hates you, you have to accept, some folks are just that, and you never ever change for that!

If you genuinely want, when you are trying to be my friend, you could start by appreciating that you don’t know me enough to judge me, unless you first learn how to actually include and accept me.

If you genuinely think, when you are trying, that if you are judging me before you learn how to actually include and accept me, you’re only coercing on me what you’d find implied by your own experiences and culture.

That I’d have to work very hard to not let the very justifiable emotions I must feel add to our miscommunication.

And I’d need to dwell on our interactions, to process and accept my emotions and feelings, along with your own.

Otherwise, they will just end up leaking.

If you genuinely dwell, which we all must, you come to accept there being displaced anger, even hate, at others, and in the unknown. Where the harder I must try, the more substantiation and reinforcement others may find for mischaracterizations and misjudgements so inclined.

If you genuinely reflect, the harder I have to try, it is where the unspoken pains and fears of those who find belonging end up leaking. That the harder I will try, the more the underlying sense of rejection not being minded by others grows obvious in it compounding in our distance and divide.

If you genuinely mind, when you learn how to actually include and accept me, you would learn to recognize when I may try doing it myself. That I will and must try, to recognize when others try, to appreciate when they need to share and explain things from their side, to respect, and reciprocate.

#AutismAcceptance is #AcceptanceForAll

Until there is effective conflict resolution, effective diversity and inclusion, every community is going to end up causing a lot of damage for people who are not sharing the same culture. Where judging another culture by the shared subjectivity of one culture does not lead to objectivity, as it reinforces a façade of ethnocentricity, by those sharing in their subjectivity.

Without objectivity, there will always be discrimination.

With discrimination, there can never be inclusivity.

Without inclusivity, there will always be punitive judgement.

Such judgement festers most, where the lack of proper conflict resolution will leave those in conflict of interest trying to do what is right, ending up exactly where they did not want end up due to subjectivity biases growing reinforced.

You see, there is more to diversity & inclusion, and those who are fighting for neurodiversity must learn and invest, just as others had to work hard to learn and invest, to appreciate and outline where lie the gaps.

Your attempts to help are not in question.

The outcomes are not one-sided, and the tools to reconcile with the feedback being opted for is how you would go about closing those gaps.

Without feedback, we end up where we think we are, until we realize, we are further apart from where we thought we were, and the “we” here, singular or plural, it still applies.

I know there is more to you than I will ever know. I hope that you can respect that there is more to me too than you will ever know.

Please respect my right to not feel further discriminated against by the view of your culture, as that is the respect I deserve from every single person who chooses to think of me as a friend.

I hope that one day you may know me better, and I may know you better, than to let the errors of judgement leave there words, spoken or written, indirectly causing either of us more harm.

It is my privilege to always try to be my best, when what I choose to be is your friend ❤️

This is Autism.