My Brilliant Disguise

When I found out, in 2003, that I had Asperger's syndrome and was "on the spectrum" as people like to say, I read as much as I could on the subject but never went as far as trying to integrate a "support" group or seek any sort of help. Denial maybe. Who knows?
However, I started to make sense of a lot of things in the present and the past, pretty much like a jigsaw I've been trying to solve unsuccessfully for years, suddenly, I could see all the pieces fit.
"On the spectrum" is always a bit of a foreign concept as I don't see it as an issue, though looking back, my "condition" seemed to have raised some worries in my surroundings over the years, something I figured out years later.
Anyway, while I recognized some of the traits and issues described in articles, journals, and books, I could never fully see myself in any of it.

I couldn’t check all the boxes that would wrap up my personality into a neat package with a warning label that read, “Fragile, handle with care.”
As far as I could tell from what I was reading, I wasn’t at all like all the other autistic people in the world.
I didn’t fit in anywhere.
To my great dismay, people often want to call autism a disorder, a handicap, or maybe even a disease.
Neurodivergence, or autism, isn’t something that’s separate from who I am. It’s who I am.
Usually, people don’t think I’m on the spectrum at all, mainly because it doesn’t always look the way they think it should. Sadly, still a lot of people expect Charlie Babbitt when meeting an autistic person.
With many years of training, I’ve become really good at mimicking conventional social norms — even when it feels strange to me.
Pretty much  every single thing I do in public is so nobody thinks I’m weird. I’ll probably always alter my behavior, because it’s easier for everybody. Because, if I didn’t, I likely wouldn’t have the life that I have now.
Studies call it "camouflaging". I don't like that label so I tend to stick to "mimicking" or I call it "my brilliant disguise".
Anyway, I found myself doing a lot of the things that are mentioned in those studies.
For one, I often struggle to make eye contact. A great way to "pretend" this is to look _between_ the eyes of the other person. Usually, they don’t notice this slight shift in gaze. Everything appears “normal” to them.
When I’m uncomfortable in a social situation because of too much noise and other stimulations, my desire is to get away to a safe, quiet corner. I usually manage to step away casually in an "orderly fashion" so that it doesn't look weird. When "getting away" is not an option, I grip my hands tightly together in front of me and rub and pinch the skin between the thumb and index so that I can concentrate on the squishiness of the skin and suppress the urge to escape.
Social interactions and conversations take preparations. I often, in my head, rehearse conversations ahead of a social interaction. I am not always prepared and that, said interaction, becomes an awkward moment where my weirdness blooms fully. Fortunately, I've reached an age where I am not that bothered how I come across.
Unfortunately, all that mimicking comes with costs: exhaustion, anxieties, stress and sometimes meltdown.
As an introvert, just being around other people for long periods of time without a break can be tiring.
I don’t separate my mimicking from my socializing. They’re a package thing that, for me, a neurodivergent introvert, requires copious periods of alone time to recharge afterward.
I don’t necessarily think that my brilliant disguise has had a negative impact on my development, but I do know that much of my teenage years was peppered with the phrase, “Stop being weird, be more normal, be more social.”
A way to come to terms with that fact that I wasn’t like any of my friends. For a long while, I thought they were more real, more authentic, than I was.
Some autistic people actually feel _more_ emotions than regular people. We are, in many ways, more in tune with the nuances and ups and downs of the psyches of those around us.
I think that’s true. One of my traits is compassion and kindness. I truly believe you can change the world with these qualities.
I can easily step back and see where the other person is coming from. And I can appreciate what they’re feeling.
Is there something wrong with me? NO.
Society sees people with autism as “damaged”.
I don’t think we are damaged. I just think we evolve and see the world differently than people who aren’t autistic. Being atypical doesn’t mean we’re weird.