When I first started playing with the idea that I was autistic, I heard beautiful and empowering stories of people who felt free and whole when they realised they were autistic. I went into my assessment with rose-coloured glasses on, believing the outcome would unlock some magical healing from all the rejections in my life. Instead, I was left processing.
Processing how every friendship I had since Primary school was filled with misunderstanding and rejection of my autistic communication. Processing how on earth I made it through a very traumatic schooling experience as an autistic ADHDer. Processing that not one adult during my childhood picked up that I was autistic and struggling despite being assessed at age eight.
I feel like I’m in a space that doesn’t feel right. I’m trapped in the middle of pain from the rejection of my authentic autistic self throughout my life and the freedom I now have from masking and hiding who I am. I now occupy spaces where I am fully accepted and have the privilege to be out and a proud autistic person but I’m still riddled with anxiety as my body and nervous system are stuck in past rejection.
I still beat myself up daily for not communicating effectively, for saying things 'wrong' or for not being able to articulate myself well. I’m still the me that was rejected and I’m living with the very real threat of repeated relational rejection that is so common for autistic folk.
That is the hidden trauma that autistic people carry. Repeated relational trauma. It may not even be conscious to the mind but most autistic people have experienced repeated relational rejection throughout our lives. Our nervous systems are designed for social engagement. We need it for survival. Our nervous system will use social referencing to survive a threat. We will automatically scan the room looking for reassurance from others to feel safe or see if there is social danger that we need to run from.
Autistic people have been repeatedly reassured that sociality is a risk or threat to our survival. The social cues we receive are that our communication style is bad or wrong and therefore, we feel that we are bad.
Three years after my autistic identification, I’m still feeling the impact of not fitting in or being accepted. I struggle to completely let others see me. I am still healing the deep root of rejection in my soul that has permeated all of my life.
I feel more vulnerable than ever and more socially awkward than ever. I feel exposed with nothing to shield me from the hurt and pain of rejection. I think this is part of the growth. I need dependable, loving and accepting relationships to heal the deep root of rejection within. This is how we heal relational trauma. We get now, what we needed then. Acceptance of our autistic selves.
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