This week, there has been a recurring theme in the neurodivergent circles I move in: It is time to get real!
In one Zoom catch-up, not naming any names, but this powerful thing happened:
The first person to be asked “How is it going?” asked in response whether we wanted to hear the masked version of the answer, or the real answer.
“Please spare us the neurotypical niceties and tell it like it is” was my response, which wasn’t very trauma-informed, I admit.
“F*cking sh!t, actually” was her reply, and the whole meeting transformed into a raw and cathartic exchange of how we are really feeling. One said fine currently, but admitted to struggling last year. Another has experienced medical horrors. Many of my self-employed friends have been struggling to make ends meet for many months…
If this Zoom meeting sounds re-traumatising, I promise it was anytime but that. Most of us left the Zoom feeling lighter, as it was a mutually supportive safe space! And many of us checked in with each other afterwards.
Me, I have been riding the crest of a wave over the last four weeks. My limited company has broken even, and I have lots of work that I really enjoy…
But riding this wave does not come without personal sacrifice.
My mum messaged me this morning, asking if I’m ok.
Today is the sixth anniversary of losing my firstborn child Iggy. He ended his life aged 15, after being bullied for being weird and girly.
I replied to my mum “I’m OK, but I am not making a big deal out of Iggy’s anniversary this year, as I’m so busy with work”.
It is more than that though; I’ve had to mask my bereaved parent identity because when I’m networking, or doing a Q&A after a speaking engagement, then I often don’t want to start that conversation unless the other person already knows.
It is actually pretty easy to talk about Iggy with people who know, who have followed me for years. Less easy when it is a passing question from somebody new to me, just making conversation, asking about how many kids I have…
My answer: “Two”.
“Two left, that is” I finish silently, underneath my casual networking persona.
But let’s not go there now, this is not the time and place. I know I need to stay forward-looking, positive, and hopeful – not bring everybody down.
But this reminder of who we have lost, and who we have left, strengthens my resolve to fight for our meaningful inclusion and acceptance in society.
The client who booked me, Alex, my favourite manager from twelve years ago who kept in touch, shoots me a knowing and understanding look.
Autism awareness is not enough; We need you to value us, to actually want us to stay.
Society needs to become a safer and more accommodating place for us all!
Image description: Cartoonised photo of Charlie and Iggy, on one of their long walks, just before he died.
#IggyRocks
Ausome Charlie 