Autistic Identity Integration

When I was clinically diagnosed with autism after a year of suspicion, it became the preoccupation of my life. Similar experiences occurred with my trans and queer identities. Constantly at the forefront of my mind was scratching the itches of unanswered questions and bridging the knowledge gap. What does being autistic mean to me? What does masking look like? How do I self-regulate? What is distress tolerance? What challenges do I experience? How do I manage overstimulating environments? How do I navigate certain social situations? The list of questions goes on.

Feeling overwhelmed and anxious is an understatement; a million questions with limited answers cycled through my mind. However, by overcoming many trials and tribulations, and now thriving from the pain my old self experienced, identity integration is solidifying. While I do experience moments of breaking point, dysregulation and being stuck in my own head over small details, I bounce back quickly and see situations from different perspectives to bridge gaps.

What do I mean by ‘identity integration’.?Let’s break it down. Humans are multifaceted, complex creatures with intersecting identities. For example, I’m a Vietnamese-Australian, queer, autistic, trans guy. I’m also a writer, swimmer, student, mental health worker etc. We aren’t exclusively one identity or part of our human experience. The process of integrating a newly discovered or formed identity into the existing experience of being you can require breaking barriers, challenging existing beliefs and ideas, confronting internal demons and resisting expected “normal” ideas.

To not only be at peace with, but embrace by autistic identity, I’ve had to, and continue to:

  • Recognise masking behaviours that are a result of learning from a young age what is socially accepted behaviour and communication styles. I thought something was wrong with me for stimming (e.g., fidgeting, moving around, doing something simultaneously) and avoiding eye contact during conversations. Later, I learnt that I’m not the problem, but the ableist world is, so I’m letting go of the guilt I don’t deserve to impose on myself.

  • Rewrite the narrative that being autistic is a “bad thing”. Neurotypical society frames autistic people as “difficult” and being unable to be successful, accomplishing members of society as we’re “different”. We’re “othered”; a category of not belonging to “normal society”. I’ve had to confront these damaging, false narratives, incinerate them and write my own story.

  • Improve my self-esteem through divorcing the idea that my human worth is contingent on social approval or rejection. I currently see being rejected by people who don’t respect me at a baseline level for my identities as a win. I’m not associated with toxic people who drain me, with minimal effort to filter them out. It’s a double win!

  • Recalibrate and fine-tune my abilities to differentiate between internalised guilt and guilt for reasonable undesired behaviour (e.g., I say something hurtful that I regret when in a disagreement). The latter is different from being conditioned to constantly apologise (unconsciously) out of habit. And for what exactly? Existing as my authentic self?

Learning about my autistic identity is an ongoing process, but my life no longer centres around it as the core. This is when I know identity integration has taken place, likened to my queer and trans identities. There is a balance where it isn’t overly consuming; I am at peace.

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