I don’t have autism, I just cry a lot: A girl’s guide to self-acceptance

I took an online quiz to see if I was autistic, but they wanted to charge me three dollars for my results. That’s a lot of money, especially given how you only need to pay one dollar to find out how smart you are, so I went through the possible outcomes:

If the results say I’m autistic, I will live the rest of my life with this label, which is probably not conducive to my personal growth and happiness. On the contrary, if the results say I’m normal, I will have wasted three dollars. That’s a lose-lose scenario, so I saved the three dollars for ice cream. That is how you make passive income. 

Having just spent a dollar to find out that I have an average IQ, I couldn’t help but imagine what my life would be like if an online quiz told me that I didn’t have autism. That would mean I’m as normal as they come, with a normal IQ and neurodiversity. That would not explain how out of place I feel in certain social settings. That requires more than a quiz.

Last year, I read a book that changed my life. It’s called “100 Bible Stories for Children.” I found solace in the characters ostracized by their society, like Joseph (which ironically I got as the result of a “Which Biblical Character Are You?” online quiz). Many characters, like Joseph, were punished for their gifts—Moses, Jeremiah, Elijah, David, and Jesus. 

I’ve never met anyone who felt like they fit in, but if you have immigrant parents like me, you might equate belonging with something that you have to earn. Over years of traveling, I’ve learned that I can’t belong anywhere if I don’t belong to myself. No matter where I go or who I surround myself with, I’ll always feel alone if I don’t show my true feelings. 

In certain cultures, hiding one’s emotions is encouraged. Stoicism—being calm and reserved and exerting great self-restraint over one’s feelings—is favored in Northern European and East Asian societies. This is in contrast to the colorfulness and expressiveness of Latin America, a place I called home for 2.5 years. 

When I lived in Rio de Janeiro, despite barely speaking Portuguese, I had no issues with communication. I once had a conversation with someone while we spoke in two different languages, but we understood each other based on tone and body language. People could tell how I was feeling through my eyes alone. It made life so much easier.

In the book “Feline Philosophy” by John Gray, the author postulates that cats live happier lives than humans because they live by following their nature, whereas humans live by suppressing theirs. We have no problem accepting the quirks and idiosyncrasies of our pets. “Oh, that’s Charlie. He doesn’t like strangers and is scared of the vacuum.” Yet, we deny ourselves the same type of love and understanding.

I’ve gotten to a point in my life where if I feel uncomfortable, instead of pretending I’m okay, I’ll just start crying. Once, I went to this rooftop party, and I got so anxious that I started tearing up. A woman tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, “It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?” I had no idea I was showing so much distress on my face, but I’m grateful for that because it allowed me to be seen and felt. As someone who gets exhausted from trying to make conversation, displaying my emotions makes it easier for people to talk to me. By being more vulnerable, I’m discovering the beauty of my uniqueness and, at the same time, the beauty of the shared experiences we have in common. Part of what makes being human so special is that we’re the only animals that can pet any animal the way they wish to be petted. Maybe cats do live happier lives than us, but we make them happier by being us.