2021 from the eyes of an autistic college student

A self-portrait titled "Trying my best"

The start of 2021 has been chaotic. Upon writing this blog, I finished a degree recital with limited attendance, entered the back end of the most academically intense semester of my college career, and mended my broken heart of two months–as you'll see, each of these are important in illustrating my plight as an autistic college student. Spoiler alert: absolutely no one has their shit together, and I'm glad we're learning to stop trying to pretend like we are.

For anyone that is relatively new in my life, I will attempt to sum up my experience as an individual with (incredibly poorly titled) "high-functioning autism." All of my life, I have been able to excel academically while trying to learn common patterns of behavior among neurotypical people. Individuals have recently described me as emotionally intelligent and outgoing. In all honesty: long periods of distance have stepped on my confidence.

I'm getting the help I need, but I'm unlearning my fears around advocating for myself. When it came to completing my recital, I flubbed one of my pieces during my dress rehearsal. The pressure I had placed on myself had driven me to tears.

My wonderful voice teacher approached after the piece, held my hand, and declared the greatest fundamental truth of 2021, "Shit Happens." Dr. W, in his empathy, understood the pressures for me as a busy college student with insecurities about making things perfect. I was able to understand that he was also an imperfect individual with struggles of his own. He knows the dangers of trying to be perfect, and he has also had many situations in which he has had to learn to let go. 

From an academic perspective, I had to deal with academically difficult work and trying not to link my class performance to my self worth. I've been able to cope as we return to an in-person environment, but I've been feeling similar feelings to how I felt in a choir room at age 12. By no one's fault, I'm scared to speak up about how I'm being affected by the classroom environment for fear of offending or provoking my classmates. I tend to feel this way especially when I'm putting pressure on myself to know exactly what's happening all of the time. I don't know how to fake it as well as everyone else.

One of my saving graces for the semester has been my advisor. He's been able to share his experience as a quirky student (my words, not his). Our brains are wired differently from other people, and he has guided me in the process of thinking about my long-term goals. He reminded me of why I wanted to pursue a business degree: in order to gain enough clarity to share with others.

Sharing with others hasn't been easy lately. In January, my partner unexpectedly broke up with me, and my brain rehashed a long history of insecurity. For years, I feared my beautiful autistic brain could never be seen as beautiful, attractive–dare I say sexy to anyone. I once again fell into the practice of wondering what went wrong in a conversation. There have been multiple occasions where I would be sharing the points I didn't understand to my friends. Last night on Snapchat, I got so frustrated with myself that I just simply declared, "This just a time where I have to acknowledge that having autism is hard."

Still, it didn't take much for my friends to acknowledge their love for my brain and my heart with multiple heart and hug emojis. They have seen a growth within my time at Luther like no other. They have been through the messiest of mental health episodes as well as the happiest of emotional triumphs.

In all honesty, autism is not my downfall. My issue is actually more universal: the need to let go of control. Sure, my struggles may stem from my internalized shame about my brain, but I'm realizing that internalized shame stems from unrealistic expectations about ourselves. It pains me to say this, but my struggle for acceptance has rarely ever been external. I'm quick to jump to conclusions about other people's thoughts about me, but I really am working on cleansing my view of myself. (Nana if you're reading this, I'm sorry, but it had to be said): it fucking sucks.

I'm learning to be more kind to myself in a world where we're meant to internalize hatred toward unique individuals. I feel the pangs of tearing apart a well-knit cloth that I hide my unique brain. Gradually, I'm releasing the need to be perfect. I'm acknowledging that I'm not as confident as I present myself. I'm trusting the people around me not to hurt me. I'm allowing the care and attention of others to rest on my heart.