Diagnosis: Different not Less

This guest post is by Lola Green, a young woman with autism who attends University of Texas Austin. Lola is applying for the Spring 2023 Making a Difference Autism Scholarship via the nonprofit KFM Making a Difference started by me, Kerry Magro. I was nonverbal till 2.5 and diagnosed with autism at 4, and you can read more about my organization here. Autistics on Autism: Stories You Need to Hear About What Helped Them While Growing Up and Pursuing Their Dreams, our nonprofit’s new book, was released on March 29, 2022, on Amazon here for our community to enjoy featuring the stories of 100 autistic adults.

Making friends and building relationships has been a life-long challenge; as a high school student, the challenge was no different. It may not be my actual toughest problem, but it is the one challenge that may never be fully resolved. I am at peace with that now. How I came to this state of self-acceptance and contentedness starts years before my time in high school; it began with my childhood idol.

Growing up, I had many idols. There were pop stars, actors, authors, and people many young children were inspired by, but my greatest hero was also the most unique. My idol to this day is Temple Grandin, an Animal Behaviorist expert as well as an Autism advocate; she was diagnosed as Autistic at the age of three. I had the chance to hear her speak, and meet her when I was ten. I was practically shaking with joy when she signed her autograph on my copy of her book. She held my hand and talked about how I should walk the neighbors’ dogs and keep doing what I love. When I got home, I saw what she had written on the autograph to me. It was a quote from her book that I glossed over not thinking it was necessary to remember.

“You are different, not less”

I was diagnosed as Autistic before I was in kindergarten, and already knowing this, made me stand out like a sore thumb. I was an easy target for bullies with their own struggles, but I was well-loved by my teachers and peers in elementary. I moved across the country in middle school. I hid my diagnosis in my new school because I didn’t want anyone to treat me as if I was less. I wasn’t less; I was just different.

My online friends were the only humans I felt safe disclosing my Autism. They were all in the LGBT community; I was an out lesbian, openly progressive, and enjoyed talking with them about our mental health and shared interests. For the first time, I wasn’t different; I was validated. I didn’t need a hero to make me feel comfortable being myself. I was happy to be me.

Then I screwed it up. I made a big mistake and hurt those friends. I was in the wrong, and they all chose to cut contact with me. I finally accepted my fate, and the deep sense of abandonment set in hard and fast. It was as if I was bound never to be loved by anyone other than my family. I was not suitable for anyone; I was a stained burden to even those similar to me. There was nothing I could do; loneliness would always be my only friend. Trying to distract myself from all this pain crashing onto me, I cleaned my room and found the book by Temple Grandin, there lay those words in blue pen.

“You are different, not less”

There was almost complete silence in my bedroom; I was alone with the gentle hum of the light and my thoughts. Time had nearly stopped. The only movement was tears running down my cheek. There was someone who believed in me even if I was just one of her many fans.

I have begun to accept my status as the one going solo. The thing about being alone is that you don’t depend on anyone, and no one depends on you. I keep trying to make more companions, but ay’- there is the challenge. I understand what my actions have done, and I respect my former friends for deciding to remove me from their circle. I can never cut myself out of my own life, and so I march forth and carry on.

This path of not having true friends and coming to accept my own self for the imperfect person I am may not be as much of a challenge compared to my days of bedridden depression, grieving lost family members, or balancing AP coursework and a part-time job, but it’s something that created me into the adult I am now. That is my challenge every day. I am different; that is how most perceive me, but I am not and never will be less.