Photo by Ahmad Dirini on Unsplash
I’m not very good at being ‘normal’. I tried it.
In fact, I tried very hard. But the more I tried, the more I ended up seeming like a paid-actor hired into a sample group. I didn’t really fit in, so I learnt what I should say. But then, my rehearsed, polished answers were a little too good to be trusted.
In my mind, I’ve been following what I’ve been told to do. Speak with clarity. Be careful with emotion (but use it as a leader). Structure difficult conversations correctly. Research the best way to approach the project. Improve in skills required for the task. Yet I still find that I’ve had a lot of disconnect with the people around me.
One of the benefits of now having an official autism diagnosis is seeing why the disconnect takes place. When many people recommend certain actions, they don’t often expect you to do it. The rate of follow-through is so poor that actually doing what is recommended in society can turn out to be quite suspicious. For me, promising something and not following through gives me a deep sense of anxiety and guilt. The feeling can be so painful (even for relatively little things) that I feel like I need to vomit. So I very much avoid not doing what I said I would.
For a long time, I’ve felt like I’ve been playing a game where there was no way real way to win. I could learn the rules, and work on getting very good. But once I became good, I was seen with suspicion because I was a little too good. When the solution then shifted to being more authentic, well I tried that too. Unfortunately, authenticity is only fine if it’s the right kind of authenticity. Many of my traits – concern about unconscious biases, accessibility and a (too) strong sense of justice isn’t what they meant.
When we talk about authenticity of the workplace, what we often mean is that we want the straight, white team leader to be a bit more open about the illness his dog has had. This helps explain why he is in a bad mood and helps us empathise with him.
But what we don’t want is an ethnic minority pointing out moral qualms about the actions we are doing. These are often seen as just being too negative. Again, I tried to ‘work’ on this. I learnt to deliver my views in a carefully constructed manner, following a bunch of different tips and tricks I learnt in my own time. Yet after a while, I saw the hypocrisy. Here I was, someone already less privileged, having to neatly wrap up my feedback in fear of a negative reaction. Meanwhile, I did not see this from others, and I rarely saw such care given to me.
There comes a point where we must question whether the games we are playing are really worth it. My burnout has certainly prompted such thoughts for me. If I am constantly feeling like I am on edge and having to be perfect with what I say or do, is that really a way to live? I’ve seen how this has permeated across my life. I find it harder to be trusting, open and really honest.
I previously wrote about how ultimately, life is based upon the games we play. We can often forget that we ultimately have a choice as to whether we still want to play these games. That means that we can choose to change things if we want. It may not necessarily be easy, particularly when looking at all our other life commitments. And in the short term, it may lead to a difficult situation too – whether financial, emotional or even marital.
Yet I’m yet to see an example where someone changes something they were truly unhappy about and didn’t find it was worth it.