All About You FRIDAY – Tell Me How You Really Feel

I have an autistic son. He’s 32. Verbal but not conversational, he sees the world literally as many people with autism do. I imagine being autistic is like landing in a strange world where you don’t understand the language, but you are capable of learning in different ways. So you observe and you catalog notes in your head until you figure out how to interact with the people around you. He didn’t speak until he was four, but all of those years his mind was actively pursuing solutions to navigating this world.

When he was little, if he fell, he’d say, “I’m sorry. Are you ok?” as he rubbed his knee. People thought he was just great at consoling himself, but that is what he thought he was supposed to say because that is what I said to him the first time he fell.

He saw me pick up a piece of paper one day and toss it in the trash. To him, that meant if he ever saw a piece of paper on the floor, he should toss it in the trash. So, he did. He kept things quite clean at our house.

And when he met anyone for the first time, he’d shake their hand and say, “Hello, nice to meet you.” Every time. Even if he had met them before.

If he was mad, you knew it. He would say “Animals!” in the tone that most of us would scream in frustration. He learned that from Cruella de Vil, a fictional character from Disney’s 101 Dalmatians. He recognized her frustration as the puppies were running all around her feet and tripping her. “Animals! Animals!” she cried.

And if he was happy, you knew that too. He would skip down the sidewalk and laugh. He didn’t even notice teenagers making fun of him as he passed by.

When he was diagnosed, I set out on a mission to find a cure for him. I tried to find all sorts of ways to “fix” him and I began to realize his perception of me was that I always thought there was something wrong with him. Then one day, I just decided to embrace who he was. And that made all the difference in the world.

Because of Joshua, I was especially drawn to the Netflix series, Love on the Spectrum, a show that follows autistic adults as they learn to date and try to find their mate. At first, I watched it out of curiosity. But as the show unfolds, it unlocks something else in you. You begin to feel a real appreciation for the people who tell you how they really feel, in the moment, with no pretense. Because that is just who they are.

“Thank you for going on this date with me. You’re kind and you’re funny” one would say, “but I think we should just be friends. Would that be ok?” Oh, how that line would have saved me so much time and heartache had I heard that after a first date. Way better than being ghosted.

Yesterday, my last patient was on the spectrum. Tall, lanky 14 year-old boy. “I’m not sure what you can do for me but if its going to work, go ahead,” he said flatly. He loved to walk around the high school track to clear his head and his pain was preventing him from doing that. I started correcting his alignment and he was clearly uncomfortable as I worked on releasing trigger points in his leg.

“I’m actually enjoying this and I can’t even explain why,” he said at one point. I told him that is how I feel sometimes about my work. The day can feel so hard and yet strangely, I enjoy it.

I asked him to walk through the agility ladder. “Please don’t stand so close to me,” he said, “That feels weird.” His tone was matter-of-fact. I smiled and took a step back. We finished the session and he went to put his shoes back on. Before he left, he turned to me and said, “You did a great job.” No pomp and circumstance. No flowery words. Just the plain and simple facts.

“That means more to me than you know,” I replied.

There is something to be said for knowing how somebody really feels–in the moment. It clears the air for moving forward, for establishing a relationship. In the face of honesty, the negative might feel uncomfortable, but it makes the good feel so good.

I will leave you with a moment from Love on the Spectrum that will make you want to fall in love all over again. It’s been a long week. Don’t forget to celebrate.

Until next time…