I like finding video game analogies like autism is like you're an Xbox and everyone else is a playstation; sometimes y'all can do the same things but that doesn't mean you are running the same way. Or like apple/android etc
I'm so glad you wrote about this -- my son (8) was diagnosed with ADHD, and his pediatrician (who diagnosed him) told me not to tell him his diagnosis, and to refer to his medication as "vitamins". My son is a bright kid, he obviously notices that he gets special "vitamins" in the mornings while his little sister doesn't. I'm glad to read this post and see that the approach I ended up taking with him is validated. I am also ADHD, but unfortunately was not diagnosed until after my son was, at age 36. I can see so many ways that acknowledgement and treatment of my differences would have been helpful to me, instead of beating myself up for literal decades over what I thought were moral failings.
My daughter (7) is autistic. I have been worried about telling her for the last 12 months, mainly because she is so literal and takes the first thing she hears as gospel. I didn't want to use the wrong words, or make her feel as though there was something wrong with her.
In the end it was a brief, unplanned conversation in the car, explaining why we were going to child health appointments, and about how incredible she is. Her reaction was to want to read books and watch videos about autism. And her references to it since have all been positive.
I’ve chosen to be open, honest and increasingly complex (well said, Zawn) about diagnoses with my children. I believe strongly that it’s right to be this way.
In my home, we speak openly about neurotypes, as well as other challenges. My kids all know they are autistic (and have known since diagnoses), they know I have severe anxiety and ptsd, they know that I’m adhd, that they are too, that some of them have a health condition, that their grandfather has trouble walking. It’s all information.
And that’s how I treat it and how we speak of it. Diagnoses are information. Diagnoses help us better understand how our brains and bodies work and what we might be able to do or want to do to make our lives work better.
Without information, we blame ourselves (or others) for the challenges we’re having. With information, we can take ownership, develop accommodations, get therapies as appropriate, and also make decisions an our what we don’t want to change.
Diagnoses and information help everyone. They make friendships work better, they make school work better, they help us figure out how to feel our best (I need headphones when I’m working in the kitchen. I used to cry when I had to cook or do dishes because sizzling food and clanking dishes were impossible for my sensory challenges. And since I was an ND woman in an abusive relationship, I couldn’t get out of cooking or cleaning or dishes. So I cried. Until one day, I tried my son‘s headphones. And yes, it’s likely I’m autistic too, but diagnosis for me isn’t possible right now). Headphones help me cook without crying. Weighted blankets help my son sleep. Information.
Recently shared my 9yo’s ADHD diagnosis w her and felt similarly anxious beforehand, found myself avoiding it, which def had to do with some of my own shame and hang ups around it. With good support, I made a plan to get some different books about adhd and leave them around the house for my book worm to find. Lo and behold that same day she came to me asking about adhd and whether she had it. I think she must have known on some level that there is something different about her, similar to what Zawn said. Anyway, books as avenues to discussion was so helpful for us, and I feel like it will continue to be as we continue to discuss. Thanks for asking this tough question and thanks to Zawn for the on-point reply! 🩵
I'm a late-diagnosed Autistic adult. My identification resulted from my adolescent child's diagnosis, which led me to learn about how Autism presents in people socialized as female. Understanding my Autistic brain has been life-changing in myriad ways, most of which are astoundingly positive.
Understanding the history of Autism as a diagnosis (I HIGHLY recommend NeuroTribes by Steve Silberman) and aligning myself with neurodiversity-affirming resources has been incredibly helpful. A staggering mount of disinformation abounds, much of which originates from (often well-meaning but not always) neurotypical voices.
Seek out and center voices of folks who are actually Autistic, and remember that "if you've met one Autistic person, you've met one Autistic person."
I'd also like to share a note of support and gratitude for the insights and guidance in this post!
In 1993, when I was 12 years old, I was diagnosed with ADD (which became ADHD.)
In 1994, when I was 13 years old, I was the subject of a case study that proved that girls could have autism. Back in those days, that was an argument that had to be won with an MRI of my brain, apparently.
I don't experience being autistic as stigmatizing. I experience deliberate exclusion, ostracisation, demonization, trivializing, dismissal, and general intolerance of neurotypicals as stigmatizing. But that only happens when I'm in situations where I have to interact with people who are cross-neurotype (not autistic) and don't have anyone with a matching neurotype from "our side" (autistic) with me to protect me from isolation with their presence.
The thing I feel needs to be added here is - asking us to change ourselves to fit in better with neurotypicals is asking us to mask harder, more effectively, etc. We cannot mask forever, and it is cruel to ask us to do so since it doesn't even work.
I don't have the energy to deep-dive this here and now, but if you search for neurotypical thin slice judgements, you will find the starting point for a substantial and growing body of research proving that neurotypicals see right through all our efforts to mask and end up disliking us regardless.
The best thing that can be done for autistic people in general, especially the kids, is widespread education teaching neurotypical tolerance and acceptance of autistic people.
Just realized I wrote my comment for this newsletter on another newsletter of yours. Oops!
Zawn, you wrote about this potentially tricky topic with such grace! I had to have a very similar talk with my son about this.
My 17yo son heard his dad say (lie) to his boss, “my son is high functioning autistic and I can’t work in the office, I need to work from home and stay with him.”
The dad and I are divorced now. So I wasn’t there when it happened.
My son called me up a few days later and asked me why no one had told him this.
I was appalled that the dad had done this to my son.
I told him we had him tested when he was much younger. And the tests said he is NOT autistic, though he has some processing issues. And I reminded him that we have talked about them over the years.
He felt so much better about this. My kids have definitely learned their dad lies. It makes me feel so sad that this is the dad they have.
I did tell my son, also, that his school teachers said they thought he might be autistic, but they aren’t qualified to diagnose. And that the person who tested him only tested him 1-on-1 so that person didn’t see how he is in school.
But all of this helped my son feel relieved that we haven’t kept anything from him. It was all plain conversations over the years.
And it was also helpful to me, as a parent, to learn how my child’s brain worked - so I can accommodate his trickier needs and help him feel safe at home instead of rattled.
Thank you again for writing this newsletter. I appreciate you and your work & writing !
I like finding video game analogies like autism is like you're an Xbox and everyone else is a playstation; sometimes y'all can do the same things but that doesn't mean you are running the same way. Or like apple/android etc
I'm so glad you wrote about this -- my son (8) was diagnosed with ADHD, and his pediatrician (who diagnosed him) told me not to tell him his diagnosis, and to refer to his medication as "vitamins". My son is a bright kid, he obviously notices that he gets special "vitamins" in the mornings while his little sister doesn't. I'm glad to read this post and see that the approach I ended up taking with him is validated. I am also ADHD, but unfortunately was not diagnosed until after my son was, at age 36. I can see so many ways that acknowledgement and treatment of my differences would have been helpful to me, instead of beating myself up for literal decades over what I thought were moral failings.
My daughter (7) is autistic. I have been worried about telling her for the last 12 months, mainly because she is so literal and takes the first thing she hears as gospel. I didn't want to use the wrong words, or make her feel as though there was something wrong with her.
In the end it was a brief, unplanned conversation in the car, explaining why we were going to child health appointments, and about how incredible she is. Her reaction was to want to read books and watch videos about autism. And her references to it since have all been positive.
I’ve chosen to be open, honest and increasingly complex (well said, Zawn) about diagnoses with my children. I believe strongly that it’s right to be this way.
In my home, we speak openly about neurotypes, as well as other challenges. My kids all know they are autistic (and have known since diagnoses), they know I have severe anxiety and ptsd, they know that I’m adhd, that they are too, that some of them have a health condition, that their grandfather has trouble walking. It’s all information.
And that’s how I treat it and how we speak of it. Diagnoses are information. Diagnoses help us better understand how our brains and bodies work and what we might be able to do or want to do to make our lives work better.
Without information, we blame ourselves (or others) for the challenges we’re having. With information, we can take ownership, develop accommodations, get therapies as appropriate, and also make decisions an our what we don’t want to change.
Diagnoses and information help everyone. They make friendships work better, they make school work better, they help us figure out how to feel our best (I need headphones when I’m working in the kitchen. I used to cry when I had to cook or do dishes because sizzling food and clanking dishes were impossible for my sensory challenges. And since I was an ND woman in an abusive relationship, I couldn’t get out of cooking or cleaning or dishes. So I cried. Until one day, I tried my son‘s headphones. And yes, it’s likely I’m autistic too, but diagnosis for me isn’t possible right now). Headphones help me cook without crying. Weighted blankets help my son sleep. Information.
Recently shared my 9yo’s ADHD diagnosis w her and felt similarly anxious beforehand, found myself avoiding it, which def had to do with some of my own shame and hang ups around it. With good support, I made a plan to get some different books about adhd and leave them around the house for my book worm to find. Lo and behold that same day she came to me asking about adhd and whether she had it. I think she must have known on some level that there is something different about her, similar to what Zawn said. Anyway, books as avenues to discussion was so helpful for us, and I feel like it will continue to be as we continue to discuss. Thanks for asking this tough question and thanks to Zawn for the on-point reply! 🩵
I'm a late-diagnosed Autistic adult. My identification resulted from my adolescent child's diagnosis, which led me to learn about how Autism presents in people socialized as female. Understanding my Autistic brain has been life-changing in myriad ways, most of which are astoundingly positive.
Understanding the history of Autism as a diagnosis (I HIGHLY recommend NeuroTribes by Steve Silberman) and aligning myself with neurodiversity-affirming resources has been incredibly helpful. A staggering mount of disinformation abounds, much of which originates from (often well-meaning but not always) neurotypical voices.
Seek out and center voices of folks who are actually Autistic, and remember that "if you've met one Autistic person, you've met one Autistic person."
I'd also like to share a note of support and gratitude for the insights and guidance in this post!
In 1993, when I was 12 years old, I was diagnosed with ADD (which became ADHD.)
In 1994, when I was 13 years old, I was the subject of a case study that proved that girls could have autism. Back in those days, that was an argument that had to be won with an MRI of my brain, apparently.
I don't experience being autistic as stigmatizing. I experience deliberate exclusion, ostracisation, demonization, trivializing, dismissal, and general intolerance of neurotypicals as stigmatizing. But that only happens when I'm in situations where I have to interact with people who are cross-neurotype (not autistic) and don't have anyone with a matching neurotype from "our side" (autistic) with me to protect me from isolation with their presence.
The thing I feel needs to be added here is - asking us to change ourselves to fit in better with neurotypicals is asking us to mask harder, more effectively, etc. We cannot mask forever, and it is cruel to ask us to do so since it doesn't even work.
I don't have the energy to deep-dive this here and now, but if you search for neurotypical thin slice judgements, you will find the starting point for a substantial and growing body of research proving that neurotypicals see right through all our efforts to mask and end up disliking us regardless.
The best thing that can be done for autistic people in general, especially the kids, is widespread education teaching neurotypical tolerance and acceptance of autistic people.
Just realized I wrote my comment for this newsletter on another newsletter of yours. Oops!
Zawn, you wrote about this potentially tricky topic with such grace! I had to have a very similar talk with my son about this.
My 17yo son heard his dad say (lie) to his boss, “my son is high functioning autistic and I can’t work in the office, I need to work from home and stay with him.”
The dad and I are divorced now. So I wasn’t there when it happened.
My son called me up a few days later and asked me why no one had told him this.
I was appalled that the dad had done this to my son.
I told him we had him tested when he was much younger. And the tests said he is NOT autistic, though he has some processing issues. And I reminded him that we have talked about them over the years.
He felt so much better about this. My kids have definitely learned their dad lies. It makes me feel so sad that this is the dad they have.
I did tell my son, also, that his school teachers said they thought he might be autistic, but they aren’t qualified to diagnose. And that the person who tested him only tested him 1-on-1 so that person didn’t see how he is in school.
But all of this helped my son feel relieved that we haven’t kept anything from him. It was all plain conversations over the years.
And it was also helpful to me, as a parent, to learn how my child’s brain worked - so I can accommodate his trickier needs and help him feel safe at home instead of rattled.
Thank you again for writing this newsletter. I appreciate you and your work & writing !