I don't want to be normal.

While perusing YouTube for ABA clips and the latest AutismSpeaks video that created some controversy, I found some interesting clips of a young woman who claims to have high functioning autism. After watching the first video I thought she might be part of a hoax.

I loved her interesting inflection, tone of voice, her lisp, word choice. I was intrigued. I loved the obvious editing. Her refusal to say grapheme color synesthesia made me laugh. I happen to know someone who has this condition - which I find so fascinating myself. After watching this video, I was still concerned that someone may be playing a cruel joke.

And then I saw Whitney's second video. One look at the bird on her head and I knew this was likely no hoax. LOL She rocked throughout the video and had to take frequent breaks to look away from the camera (something that was pretty compelling to me alone since she didn't just merely move her eyes, but made body movement to look away). It had so many terrific lines in it, amongst them my favorites included:

"I enjoy having an obscene thirst for knowledge. "
"I love having time to research any topic that happens to strike my mind."
"I really don't have friends....I don't want a whole bunch of friends. That is too much work... I actually find it very draining to be in a social situation with more than four people."
"I thoroughly enjoy being autistic."
"To me it is a difference in perception"
"I am proud of who I am... I am perfectly happy the way I am."

Of course, when I read these things I am drawn to them because of my same sentiments. I realize, although I am not autistic, that there are elements in my personality that are very parallel to this disorder. I am very socially interested in people, yet can be very awkward. I love love love learning although am only a marginal student. I realized recently that I have been told throughout my life that "You need to listen". I bought book after book about this. I thought I had a reading comprehension problem. Then, in the last year after learning so much from my children, I realized that I may have a more overarching problem with perceptive language. I am not always good at deciphering metaphors, and can recall hating high school English because of the constant need to analyze the symbolism in stories. After realizing that it was going to be the only way to survive those classes, I would pick something randomly int he story and come up with a grandiose story of what it symbolize in the universe. I would receive praise for my unique thinking, get my god grade, and feel like a complete phony since it all felt so contrived to me. It just wasn't in my nature.

Many people have always teased me about my word choice. I tend to use a mix of the vernacular (hip phrases to make me appear modern) with not often used word choices that as one friend told me "seem like I am trying to be British or something." I guarantee you that this has never been on purpose. Some of my language I think is derived from my mother and perhaps because of the nearly 40 year difference between her and I, I have unusual although appropriate word choices. For instance, instead of saying "that is great" my inclination is to say "that is wonderful" or instead of saying "he is a nice guy" I might say "he is a nice fellow" or even worse "he is an affable fellow". Let's not even get into the rubbish vs. garbage thing! :) My mom is a walking dictionary - quite good at crossword puzzles (which I am most certainly not) and likely has a distinct vocabulary.

I do not do this on purpose. Besides Madonna, who does? However, I think it does lend itself to having some people make fun of me, and some people comment on how "well spoken" I am. Uhh, OK.

Another item I have noticed - I am terrible with my friendships. Not many people come rushing up to me on facebook I tell you. First off, the perceived "I'm not listening" thing probably doesn't get me very far in this area. Furthermore, I have very bad instincts when it comes to what another person wants me to do. I have difficulty initiating any contact with people, e.g. I am petrified to call anyone on the phone. I am usually one of the last people to leave parties or get togethers, and guess that I tend to overstay my welcome. I am good at the eye contact thing. However, when I make an effort to understand all that is being said to me, I would guess that some find me staring because I tend to overly concentrate on what they are saying to me in order to really get it. In the end, I care about other people very much (in fact my mother always said I was too sensitive), but likely am not meeting their needs of feeling heard and understanding their needs, so a lot of people likely just stay away. It's too complicated to be my friend. Indeed when I look at those who I would call true friends in my life, I would have to say they are an exceptional bunch who have stuck with me and my social shortcomings. They call me, check in with me, and realize that even though I may not do the same with them always, it isn't because I don't care, I am just a freak.

The last line I quoted above is the one I currently find most compelling.

"I am proud of who I am... I am perfectly happy the way I am."

I don't have that in my own life right now. I want that. Most importantly, I want that for my children above all else. And I want to make this point vehemently clear. One day, Zach may read these vignettes I have written about life, and our experiences with autism. I never want him to feel that we do not love him with every bone in our body, just as he is, autism and all. I never want him to feel that he was a burden, because he most certainly is not. He is a joy in my life, that I would be so miserable without. Had I known that he was autistic while in the womb, I may have contemplated what that meant, however, I will never regret having him. He has brought new meaning to my life. He is teaching me much about myself and about love, and life itself. He has helped me not take life and it's simplistic gifts for granted. He is a perfect little boy who I want to be happy and proud.

I once worried what all of the huabaloo in our lives would mean to Sophie - so much attention and time devoted to little brother could be vexing to such a young psyche. I don't worry as much now. I realize that one day she, too, will also realize so much more about life because of her little brother. I hope she will realize her gifts in this world and learn how to use them in unconventional ways. I pray that she will not become yet another cog in the wheel of society, merely getting through the day to earn another paycheck. (BTW - I am all about financial security and don't take that for granted.) I hope that she will understand the imperative of serving others who are different than herself, not unfortunate, just different, helping them to find their path in this world, whether it be her life's work or through small gestures.

I may not be the most normal person, even though I would like to be moreso. But I would have to guess that wanting my child's happiness is very normal, so maybe I am OK anyhow.