A year later — What my autism diagnosis (as a 31-year-old Black woman) has taught me
“I’m so sorry about Morgan.”
This is the kind of message a few of my family members received about me when I shared about my autism diagnosis almost a year ago.
Those messages made me realize that there are so many aspects of being autistic that people just don’t see or understand. Yes, there are struggles and challenges that can be completely life-altering, and everyone on the spectrum’s experiences are diverse and varied, and at the same time, there’s this: there are many layers to an autistic person…not just what you might initially see or think.
This is why I — and many other autistic people — do not say “I HAVE autism” and we say “I AM autistic.”
That distinction alone has helped me realize that being autistic isn’t something I should feel like I have to hide away as a secret if I don’t want to. It’s not this separate part of me that occasionally shows up from time to time. And I chose to say “I’m autistic” publicly last year because I wanted to make that clear.
Now, there are so many very valid reasons why someone might choose to not be public about their diagnosis and there should always be respect for that. I chose to share mine because it’s what was right for me at that time. But it hasn’t been easy sharing.
Since then, I’ve received messages (from people that don’t know me) about how I am not autistic enough and how I never should have been given a diagnosis. While I empathize with the hurt of these message-senders, I will continue to tell my story.
And similar to my experiences as a Black person, I find healing in sharing images of myself smiling and enjoying life. I find peace in sharing things that bring me joy such as the art that I make. My struggles are real and so is my joy.
Yesterday, I shared about racism on TikTok and someone told me “don’t go through life looking for issues.” While this comment was one of many, it points to a way of thinking that many people still have. It showed me that we have a lot of work to do when it comes to learning how two things can be true at once:
I am free to shed light on the struggle, the hardship, and the pain AND I am free to shed light on the strength, the healing, and the peace. And I will continue to do just that.
I am often asked now, what is it like being a parent or a spouse or an artist or a business owner and part of me wishes I could give a clear answer. However, part of me is completely at peace without having to have this pie chart or this graph of how my diagnosis has changed every aspect of my life.
Just like before my diagnosis, I am learning as I go. I am practicing courage every day as I breathe through it all. I am realizing and being present to both the joy and sorrow…and it’s not a 50/50 split down the middle. It’s not something that I can quantify a “perfect balance” for.
There are some days when I am hyperaware of how being autistic impacts how I exist in the world, and there are some days, when I don’t feel the pressure as much. There are some moments where I am zooming out and recognizing, “because I am autistic this is why this might be hard for me,” AND there are moments where I zoom out and say “because I am autistic, it actually helps me understand a lot better.”
There are times when I feel pressured to be able to communicate my experiences more clearly. There are times when I hold back from sharing because I’m not ready for the uninformed or rude comments that might come my way.
And there are also times (like today) when for whatever reason, I felt like I could share what I had been reflecting on since receiving my diagnosis.
I am proud of how far I have come and I am proud of anyone out there navigating life after the diagnosis and everything you’re learning along the way. Here’s to taking the pressure off of ourselves to figuring it all at once.
What receiving my diagnosis has taught me over the past year is that while others may not always understand me, I am still free to take the time to understand myself. I am still free to pace myself through sharing and being open with my story as I always have. And in that way, I feel like my experiences of being Black has prepared me for this. I’ve always known I was Black, but I am not always ready or prepared to publicly share everything I’ve been experiencing as a Black person when someone asks or when the opportunity presents itself.
Receiving my diagnosis has reminded me of this: It takes time to work through our experiences and it takes time to share them. And there’s nothing wrong with that. And I will to continue to learn as I go and encourage others to do the same.
- Morgan
And here’s an unapologetic plug: I talk about this even more in my book Peace is a Practice that comes out so soon! Check it out if you can! Pre-orders really help authors — if you’re able to! And you can also read a free chapter here as well.
