My So-Called Disorder: We Know We're Different Long Before We Know We're Autistic

It’s interesting to me how, before I ever knew I was autistic, I knew that something was going on that made me feel different. I told more than one person that, aside from family and a few close friends, I was “the most solitary person you’d ever willingly associate with—and that few willingly do.” I told several people that I had to learn to operate my hard to operate personality. I remember as a teenager and young adult watching all the socially successful teenagers and young adults, (including some really questionable ones), and realizing that that life was never going to be mine. I remember how much I appreciated the Togolese custom of avoiding eye contact during important conversations or when speaking to an important or elderly person. I remember watching various outgoing people meet me for the first time with gusto and then begin to pull back, spotting something odd despite my best attempts at gregarious charm. I remember a hundred times being told to smile, even when I was happy, and actually practicing a toothy smile in front of the mirror without success. I remember thinking there was a bit of magic in my ability make sense of complicated cases or to spot things in documents that others had trouble seeing. I remember when I learned it was more politic not to talk so much about Chuck Berry.

Peter O’Neil is the author of My So-Called Disorder: Autism, Exploding Trucks, and the Big Daddy of Rock and Roll.