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Who EVEN is she?

 

Who IS she? Who EVEN is she?


When I started putting pen to paper (or, in reality, finger to key) this was going to be a book- and it was going be specifically for autistic women- as I am definitely one of those- and thought that's who I should (more on that later) be speaking to. However, the more I thought, the more that box grew larger. So this blog, this offering, is for anyone who feels like they should be crushing it at life and just....isn't. (Spoiler alert: you actually might be- you just don't feel like you are.)

So with all of that exposition (I hate exposition in movies but weirdly do a lot of it in life....) out of the way, this was going to be my chapter one.

No one, really. Like you, I’m doing my best, and I certainly don’t have it all figured out. But—and it’s a big but—the statistics show that autistic women face staggering challenges. If I’m defying those odds, I should be shouting about it from the rooftops, even if my life isn’t perfect or what people expect. In fact, that’s exactly why I should be shouting.

Who Am I Not to Write This Book Blog?

I Shouldn’t Be Here: Employment

The UK Parliament's website states that only 15% of autistic people are in full-time employment and 9% in part-time employment. Even if we double that number, I’m still an anomaly simply for having a job. I have many thoughts on capitalism (that’s another book), but unfortunately, we all need money, and that means work. Statistically speaking, I shouldn’t have that. Yet, here I am.

I Shouldn’t Be Here: Mental Health

Autistic women are 13 times more likely to die by suicide than non-autistic women. Without getting too dark, there were times when my younger self believed the world would be better off without her. In my early thirties—before my diagnosis—I told myself I wouldn’t kill myself yet. It was always an option, just not today. And somehow, I’m still here. But I so easily might not have been.

I Shouldn’t Be Here: Relationships

According to Reddit (yes, I know), only 5–9% of autistic people are married or have had a long-term relationship. I can tell you firsthand that number is too low—because I’ve dated enough undiagnosed autistics to know. But society insists that autistic people either can’t or don’t want relationships. That’s false. I’m a married autistic woman, and that fact alone makes me an anomaly.

Maybe it’s because 9 out of 10 autistic women have experienced sexual violence (BBC, 2023). Society expects us to be victims, not thriving, successful people writing books. But that’s exactly why I have to write this.

So, I'm sorry that got a bit dark, bit that is what they (you know the big 'they' that we can't place but seems to mainly consist of straight-white-rich-able-bodied-neurotypical-cis-men) expect for us. If you see the news coming out of the US and all that 'autistic people will never pay taxes' nonsense its very on point right now.

The up side is the bar is very low and I know there are squillions (maths is not my thing!) of us beautiful little weirdos (I'm not little, I'm 5ft9 but little in terms of the universe) who in comparison those hideous, bleak statistics are incredible success stories- if you are surviving you are an incredible success story.

But, like Ariel, I want more, and I have, actually, somehow, against what my schoolteachers expected, achieved it. So I am offering this blog as, firstly, a reminder to myself how far I've come and secondly as reminder to the world just how much we are capable of.*

*I want to caveat this with a huge one. I recognise the difficulties that high support needs individuals face but do not fall into that group. However I will shout from the roof tops about the inherent value of all humans and every single persons right to safety fulfilment (however it looks) and joy (whether that person expresses joy by smiling or not.)

PS I ended this post with an 'of' its not correct, I don't like it, but I'm conditioned to occasionally slip in a grammatical error so you don't think I'm a dick.

Over and out (oh no, definitely a dick now....)

Bec XX

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