Search
I’m Alone, But It’s Just as Well
I’ve written before about how reclusive I used to be, and most people with autism are, and the struggles of being unable to make friends now that I want them. But I’ve since learned through other accounts that there’s nothing unusual about that struggle, that it truly is harder to make friends as an adult. (Still, if I were steadily employed in the job of my dreams – a scenario I’m working towards – the chances would probably still be greater.)
For the time being, I’ve decided to no longer actively pursue either a romantic relationship or new friendships. It was a tough choice to make, especially since I feel better off without most people I run into around Sacramento. (People tell me it will take several more years to move away, so I’m formulating a survival plan in the meantime.)
Instead, I’ve decided to practice being the best friend or husband around, so that I am when the time comes. I’ve spent infinitely more time thinking about my legendary near-encounter with someone I was attracted to in a restaurant than it actually took to happen. This was the event that persuaded me to actively better my social skills. As such, had they been single (they may not have been) and I been able to control the butterflies in my stomach, I don’t think we would have gotten very far. After beginning to study social skills, I think I would have left something to be desired.
Autism rights activists have it halfway right. They rail against how society unjustly spreads negative stereotypes about them and keeps them in the closet. But they also rail against all intervention and don’t consider how their symptoms may affect others. I feel like I’ve done a really good job of managing my symptoms without selling out to the rhetoric of anti-autism groups. I think others can do the same, and they can apply it to a major life goal, like mine to meet new people.