The rainbow, the grey and the clunky in-between

Developing a ‘positive autistic identity’. That’s been my mission since 2017, the year I received my diagnosis.

And truth be told, I’ve been working flipping hard ever since. Through therapy, coaching and a whole bundle of personal development added into the mix.  

Until eventually, I began

• embracing my quirks and differences
• identifying my strengths
• figuring out what I needed to navigate my challenges and
• letting go of a lifetime of ‘shoulds’ and neurotypical expectations.

(I know, this is all far easier said than done.)

Reframing

It’s been an ongoing process of reframing, now seeing myself through an autistic lens.

I’ll give you an example. Where I used to think:

“I should be able to cope with the hustle and bustle of the world around me…”

I realised:

“I see and experience the world in intensely great detail. This means I offer a different perspective, for example, within my work. But that detail-focused mind is exhausting, it requires self-care.’

And I had a whole long list of these ‘shoulds’ to reframe.

I’m not talking about reframing to see autism as my superpower, or ‘of being capable of anything I put my mind to’. That feels a risky stumble towards toxic positivity. I’m a human being, just like you. I have a blend of strengths, challenges, and differences.

But I’ve been working to uncover and see what was always there, until the world told me otherwise.

The twists and turns

In my head though, it was a nice, neat timeline, all mapped out. Do the work, figure out how my mind works, shift my thinking from deficit to difference, and hurrah, I’m there. Self-acceptance, healthy self-esteem and a positive autistic identity.

If only it were that straightforward.

The post-diagnostic, or self-identification process, is full of twists and turns.

As an example, let’s consider the impact of the environment.

We live in a world that is largely not designed for neurodivergent minds. I move through environments that have fluctuating levels of understanding, acceptance and accessibility. No matter how much I work on self-acceptance, I’m not immune to the effects of this bigger picture, of the stigma and misunderstanding that can still exist.

I soon realised there was no start and end to this process. I’m in this for the long haul.

The rainbow and the grey

My own lived experience is that self-acceptance ebbs and flows. There are days, and weeks, that my thought process is somewhere along the lines of, ‘I’m there, I’ve got this, I wouldn’t want my mind to work any differently.’

I call them my ‘rainbow weeks.’

I have a recurring flow of these rainbow weeks where my mind is alive with colour. Imagine a (silent) firework display that never seems to end. Each colour that launches is a different shade, representing a new thought or idea. I’m energised by hyperfocus, a swirl of colour and joy. My mind is working with me, not against me.

Until it gets exhausting, and the grey rolls in, often without warning. This isn’t a depression kind of grey, but a grey where my processing speed slows, and my communication alters. I stumble for a moment, and I crave the colour. There’s a sense of loss, all wrapped up in sheer frustration.

My autistic challenges are heightened. My needs change, often overnight. And in all the blur, I have to figure out how to meet those needs and what I might need from others.

During the grey, I’m going to rock up to that meeting and not be able to contribute there and then. I’m going to have to take a back seat. My thoughts, reflections and ideas will need more time. My self-compassion has to ramp up a notch and the grey weeks have to become my opportunity to recharge.

The clunky in-between

But what about the clunky in-between? This is all the adjusting I have to do as I shift between the rainbow and the grey. The time spent getting my feet firmly planted back on the floor, settling back in.

I’ve had to learn that the rainbow, the grey, and the clunky in-between, are all part of my autistic identity. For a while, I’ve sought out that positive autistic identity, a constant state of acceptance, a consistent way of being, with a predictable set of needs and strategies.

But these are all my different ways of being. And in writing this, I’ve scrapped the ‘positive’ and I’m re-framing it to ‘balanced autistic identity’. And over time, that may change. Much to my discomfort, the way I experience being autistic, the way I describe it, evolves.

So, why am I sharing this?

The post-diagnostic journey, or self-identification journey, is clunky. (I’m sorry, that’s likely providing zero comfort, but hopefully some validation.)

And if you resonate with that sheer frustration I mentioned some time back? That’s okay.

There are moments, fleeting moments, where I wish my mind worked differently. Where I say out loud that I wish I wasn’t autistic. And I say that without shame, it reflects the realities of some of the challenges I experience, living in an overwhelming world.

I can still sit hear and say I’m proud to be autistic, and adopt neuroaffirmative approaches and practice within my work to support others.

All of this can co-exist. It comes back to balance.

But equally I’m sharing this blog as a reminder that just as each autistic person is diverse, our individual experiences also shift and change. Understanding requires a dynamic approach.

And finally, these are my words. Through my process I continue to understand what autism means to me. We may share similarities, or many differences. If you’re exploring the way your own mind works, your process will be yours. Perhaps similarly clunky, but most certainly, beautifully unique.

Please do explore my website. You can read my other articles, listen to me talk about my mission and get in touch with me using my contact page.