1. My autistic identity means occupying a liminal space
I have the privilege to work with high support needs autistic folks as a practitioner, and am thoroughly integrated into that world. In a way, I've noticed that, socially, that positions me as an outsider or juxtaposition to the group. I am an autism practitioner, they are autistic. I can't help but feel dissonance between my autistic identity and the construct of an autistic community that is represented to me. I'm not sure where my place is. I don't require enough support to belong in autistic places, I am positioned outside of the community perceptually, and yet I am still autistic. I am grasping onto the idea of border identities, ones that challenge normative heirarchies and positionalities. It feels reassuring that there is a name for my experience, yet emotionally I am stuck in a liminal place between worlds that aren't built for me.
2. Nothing has changed and yet everything has changed
I recently listed to Divergent Conversation's identity narrative episode, and at first, I was passive towards it, as my innital reaction was that I have been questioning for so long I am above the integration phase. And yet I find myself not recognizing my life, my position, my future. I don't know who I am or who I am meant to be. I never realized how integral masking was to my ontology, and without it, I don't know what's real anymore. That said, there is a freedom in world-reconstruction, all be it a lonely freedom. There are no expectations on me anymore. My life course is mine alone. And I am alone in it.
3. The world is structurally ableist
Every bright light, loud hand dryer, and uncomfortable seam reminds me I am adjacent to the normative human experience. The world was not made with me in mind.