I’m Tired of Altering My Speech to Stroke Neurotypical Egos

Let’s get something out in the open: I am done playing linguistic dress-up to make neurotypical people feel comfortable.

A week or so ago, I ranted over the phone to every fellow autistic person I could think of at the moment. I broke down to Dani as I did split squats, I sobbed on the stair climber while sending voice notes to Adnan, sobbed some more to Kara as I walked to, and then raged to Kat as we walked through SoHo. One tense and difficult conversation with a particularly belligerent neurotypical became the straw that broke Iman’s back in the midst of a booked and busy 7 days. Kat and Kara are both equally disillusioned with those people, so they offered empathetic displeasure. Adnan is sympathetic to them, so it kind of felt like I was Magneto talking to Professor X, but you need that sometimes to keep from developing a full blown prejudice. He urged me not to have an “us vs them” mindset and I am trying. I really am trying, but those people make it so hard! They do not make any effort for us! Ever! In a later discussion about what occurred once I calmed down, he even told me that I should work on speaking with “grace” for them. The problem is, I AM SPEAKING TO THEM WITH GRACE! I'm not detailing to them how slow and redundant I find them. I'm not letting them know how frustrating I find it to speak slowly enough for them to comprehend. I see what he was saying. I do, I slipped up. I could have done better, but can't a girl have a rough day? I simply got caught in a fixation on solving a problem that was occurring instead of understanding the woman's emotions. Like damn! 

I spent years smoothing out my tone, over-smiling, adding ten layers of unnecessary fluff to a sentence, pretending my directness was a flaw that needed correction. For who? For people who hear the word “Actually” and have a full emotional meltdown like I just kicked their childhood pet.

Neurotypicals love to say they value honesty and clarity. They preach “good communication” like it is a religion. Until they meet someone who is actually clear. Then suddenly I’m “blunt” or “intense” or “maybe too serious.”

Translation: I didn’t perform the emotional tone they silently assigned to the words in their head. I didn’t play along with the unspoken script. I didn’t decorate my sentences with sparkly social glitter to soothe their anxiety. So apparently, I am the rude one.

Let’s break that down for a second.

Neurotypical communication:

• Say what you do not mean

• Mean what you do not say

• Expect everyone to guess both correctly

• Get offended if they do not

Autistic communication:

• Say the thing

• Mean the thing

• Done

• 
  

I do not think one is morally better than the other. I just think it is wild that one communication style is praised as “normal,” and the other gets labeled as unprofessional, unkind, robotic, or immature. Especially when the autistic one is often more efficient, clear, and respectful of people’s time.

Here is what I am tired of:

• Hyper-translating my natural communication into “palatable.”

• Performing warmth so other people don’t interpret neutrality as hostility.

• Pretending I didn’t understand the meaning behind someone’s vague, contradicting sentence just so they can avoid admitting they were being unclear.

• Being punished for clarity.

  
  

I am tired of sitting in meetings rephrasing “We need this by tomorrow” into “I was just wondering if maybe, if it’s not too much trouble, would it be possible to try to maybe get this done sometime soon if that works with you?”

For absolutely no reason.

Here is what is real:

Autistic communication is not cold.

It is not emotionless.

It is simply direct.

My words are not a threat just because they are shaped efficiently.

My tone is not disrespectful just because I do not pad it with 17 layers of implied meaning.

My communication style is not broken.

It is simply different from the majority, which means the majority is not used to adjusting. They are used to being accommodated by force of population.

Well. I am tired of being the one doing all the adjusting.

I am allowed to speak in my native tone.

The tone where:

• Questions are questions

• Statements are statements

• “No” is a complete sentence

• And emotional clarity is not a trick question

I am still kind. I am still thoughtful. I am still whole.

I just no longer feel obligated to convert myself into a neurotypical dialect to be understood.

If you want to understand me, great. Ask. Clarify. Communicate.

I think of my Uncle when I think of what it means to truly feel safe speaking. He is not diagnosed as autistic, but to me, he is the only person in my family that I can talk to normally. He is very autistic to me. When he talks to me, he tells me clearly what he is thinking, he doesn't alter his inflection to sound like anyone other than himself. His syntax is abnormal, but perfect to me. He is concise, clear, and efficient. He is thoughtful, kind, and adaptive. Growing up, I noticed that he did a lot to accommodate others. He still does. He is more intelligent, more efficient, more knowledgeable; I often saw him frustrated with others and their egos and their high emotional responses, but he was always so able to navigate it. I really tried to learn from him. In the past couple of years, I began to see him stand up for himself too. To set boundaries for the lengths he goes to, to accommodate people that won't even attempt to meet him halfway. That inspires me too. 

If you want to be coddled, catered to, or gently handled like a Victorian fainting noble who cannot withstand a direct sentence, maybe take a moment to consider why honesty feels dangerous to you.