I Love Who We Are

Honest Autism

by Lennon

Starting from early childhood, I always had this intense, pervasive feeling that something is deeply wrong with me. I was an undiagnosed autistic kid, and when I started to read books in preschool, I put two-and-two together that being smart meant being praised.

Starting with the very first grade, I was a personal assistant to all my teachers because I finished my work early. I taught science lessons and read aloud to the class. When my teacher's-pet-shtick grew annoying rather than helpful, I was sent away to an "Academically Talented" program, an "Avant Garde" program, and the Special Education room. I really should have been tested. I was better friends with everyone in the SpecEd room, especially because my best friend Tristan from the bus was in that class.

Tristan was non-verbal and used an AAC picture book, which I admired and envied. Not having to over-explain yourself to adults? Pointing to concepts and phrases to easily show your needs and wants? Instead of letting adults know what I needed or wanted, I decided to be the perfect child. I was a suck-up and a snitch. I followed the rules. I kept quiet. I never had wants or needs. I existed to serve, to please, to perform. I performed so well, I was a woman for 19 whole years.

I should have been comfortable with myself enough to form a personality and explore my likes and interests, but I wasn't. I unfortunately lived in a Free Methodist Christian household where no one had any hobbies other than worshipping Jesus Christ or talking about the bible. My dad showed me his special interests like Star Wars and Star Trek, but they were both somehow about God to him. I began to hide all the things I was into, because I knew my parents wouldn't approve. I didn't know it, but I was starting to hide myself- from myself- more and more too.

In secret, I tried out masculine names online when I was young, but I never put any pieces together when it made me really happy. I wasn't that kid, I was a good daughter and older sister. I couldn't be queer, or mentally disabled, or depressed or anxious. God's love cured all those things, but it hadn't cured me. My happiness and opinions didn't matter, my parents' did. God’s happiness, or something, mattered more than me. And God didn't love people with things deeply, irrecoverably wrong with them.

Thank GOD (haha) I'm out of that situation now. Well, I still live with said parents, who are still self-righteous assholes who won't address their own problems. But I did address mine! I transitioned five years ago and have taken HRT testosterone for four. I got top surgery three years ago, despite thinking it would have never ever been possible. I wish I could tell my preteen self- you will find yourself, someday. You will get to be yourself, and it will feel millions times better than sucking up to adults for a smile and a compliment.

Today, I am a very proud autistic and disabled gay trans man. I am very cool, and fat and strong, and my autism is a part of me that I love way more than I hate. I have found my hobbies and interests, and I've found other autistic people, including an autistic boyfriend, who all feel more like family than my parents ever have. It can be easy for autistics to play a part to make other people like them, but the biggest lesson I've learned in my life is that honesty and sincerity are worth more to the people that actually matter.

Lennon (they/he) is a queer and disabled multimedia artist in Michigan who specializes in digital art, acrylic paint, buttons, and charms. He dabbles in writing when encouraged by kind friends. Find them at @citriqq on instagram.