When it takes a long time for someone’s ableism to become apparent

I’m physically disabled, and it seems like it usually takes abled people i become friends with a LONG time to “show their true colors” about it. I’ve seen it take 2 years from the first time they knew i was disabled and I openly spoke about it around them. Is this common? Why the heck so long?? Are they actively trying to hide it….or am i just missing a lot of subtle red flags? (Hard to imagine since @ this point I actively watch for them, but anything’s possible!)
realsocialskills said:
I’ve been wondering about this recently, too. I mostly encounter it in professional contexts (and I’m not sure whether to describe my disabilities as physical or not since autism affects my movement in disabling ways but I’m not mobility-impaired), but I think it’s a similar dynamic.
I think that it’s that abled people really, really don’t know very much about disability. They don’t know about the sheer logistical challenges we face, and they *really* don’t know about the stigma.
They think, on some level, that disability is an overwhelming tragedy, and that if we do things other than be overwhelmed by tragedy, then disability can’t really matter much. And they are really, really not emotionally prepared to deal with the fact that disability matters all the time, and they’re not at all prepared to deal with it in a matter-of-fact way. And meanwhile, for us, it’s just *life*.
We learn early that it’s our job to protect abled people from ever having to notice either the logistical problems or the hate we face. And especially, we learn not to show that it hurts us. And double especially, we learn that we are not allowed to tell friends or caregivers or ~nice ladies~ or others that they are hurting us. And triple especially, we learn that we are not allowed to be angry because that’s ~just the way it is~ and ~people don’t understand~.
I think that protecting abled people from having to notice disability and ways we are harmed as disabled people goes so deep we do it automatically and without noticing most of the time. And abled people *really* don’t notice, because they think it’s normal and natural and have not had any need to challenge it. They feel completely entitled not to have to deal with disability, and the entitlement feels so natural that they don’t even *notice*. And we don’t notice how much we protect them, either.
Some of the people we protect have been exposed to a lot of disability awareness and sensitivity training. And who can recite a lot of information about various conditions, know not to pet service dogs, and would never touch someone’s mobility equipment, and who tell others off for using the r-word. And maybe they know what the ADA is and know a few horror stories about institutions in the 60s. And, they think that means they know how it is – they have no idea how sanitized all of that is.
Sensitivity training teaches them that we are just like them. It does not teach them to cope with all the ways in which we are very different.
I don’t have a good answer to this. The only that I’ve found is that it helps to be more open with my friends about what I am experiencing, what my limitations are, and how I feel about what is going on. There’s a price I pay for that, though. The other thing that helps is having more disabled friends, or friends who understand being marginalized in a way that your family is not (eg: I’ve found that some nondisabled LGBTQ people have been able to relate to a lot of this.)

Clueless creepiness vs skillful creepiness

There are two kinds of problems that get conflated a lot but aren’t actually that similar:

  • People who do creepy things because they have trouble understanding boundaries
  • People who do creepy things because they understand boundaries well and have highly developed skills at violating them with impunity

People who are good at violating boundaries and getting away with being creepy sometimes seem socially awkward, and sometimes don’t. Sometimes they get away with it by getting people to think things like “Oh, that’s Bill. He’s just awkward like that. He doesn’t mean anything by it,” and sometimes it’s more like, “I can’t believe James would do that! He’s like the nicest guy ever, and he does so much for this community. Don’t you remember the awesome party last month?”, and sometimes it’s more like, “Steve is really sensitive right now. Did you really have to turn him down like that? Couldn’t you have given him a chance? Don’t you understand how much courage it takes to approach a girl? What harm could giving him your number have done?”. 

People who are inadvertently creepy *care* when they’ve violated boundaries, and try to fix it. Saying, “oh, they’re just awkward” isn’t doing them any favors, because people who are inadvertently creepy don’t *want* to trample all over other people’s boundaries. They want to know, so that they can stop doing it. This doesn’t mean it’s the job of victims of their creepy actions to explain it to them – it isn’t, particularly since most creepy people are doing it on purpose, and calling skillfully creepy people on things tends to go badly. I am mentioning this because skillfully creepy people often convince others that being “just awkward” means that everyone else is obligated to refrain from objecting to their creepy actions.

Skillfully creepy people who boundaries boundaries on purpose come up with excuses about why it was ok, and try to make you feel horrible for objecting. (Eg: “I was just being friendly! Learn to take a compliment!”, or “I know that if you were in your right mind, you wouldn’t have said that you didn’t want to spend time with me. I forgive you. We can still spend time together.”, or “Wow. Harsh. I guess girls really don’t go for nice guys. Have fun dating assholes.” or just getting a lot of people to laugh at you, or any number of other things.)

As a culture, we shouldn’t tolerate creepy behavior from anyone. Part of not tolerating it means assessing when people are being cluelessly creepy, and when people are being skillfully creepy. 

If you are a supervisor/teacher/community leader, or otherwise someone responsible for intervening and keeping things safe, it’s important to respond appropriately. Communities need to help cluelessly creepy people understand how to act, and to expel skillfully creepy people so that they can’t keep preventing the people they hurt from being part of the community. 

Should I tell my roommates I’m autistic?

I’m an autistic student who’s starting college next fall. I’m wondering if I should tell my roommate(s?) about it first, or if this will affect the way they think of me. I like to think that I can “fit” in normally with everyone, but I might have some quirks that will annoy them. I’m worried I won’t be able to make friends, I’m not sure what to do.
realsocialskills said:
This is a really personal choice, and there’s no one right answer here. Some thoughts:
There’s a really good book and website about dealing with college as an autistic person called Navigating College. It talks in practical terms about a lot of different issues, including the question of disclosure. I would highly recommend reading it.
That said, here’s what I think I know about disclosure in general:
  • Autism is highly stigmatized, and most people will see you as less of a person if they know you’re autistic.
  • Sometimes it’s safer not to tell people, or to say something like “I have a neurological disorder that makes it hard for me to (whatever the relevant thing is).
  • If Google knows that you are autistic, it can make it harder to get into school, get an internship, or get a job
  • Keeping autism completely secret creates a major barrier to friendship; hiding a fundamental aspect of who you are makes everything a lot harder
  • If people don’t know you’re autistic, then you always have to wonder how they’d treat you if they ever found out.
  • If people know you’re autistic, then you face a lot more mistreatment, but you also find out who you can trust. Sometimes, that’s worth it.
  • There isn’t a right answer here; all of the options kind of suck, and which approach is best for you is a highly personal decision
And a few things I think I know about disclosing to roommates:
  • In college, roommates are often not friends
  • They’re just people you have to minimally get along with enough to share space peacefully
  • In some ways it’s better if you’re *not* close to your roommate; a fairly superficial relationship can be more conductive to living together
  • If you aren’t close to your roommate, there’s probably no reason they *need* to know you’re autistic.
  • It’s also possible that they’ll treat you better if you don’t tell them, since most people think that autism means you’re unable to understand or care about other people.
  • So, unless you’re generally open about being autistic (which can be a good strategy), it might be better to err on the side of not telling your roommate.

When you want to start changing the world and it feels daunting

I’ve learned a lot about rape and rape culture from Tumblr, and now I want to start educating people. However, I am quite socially awkward, so I’m not really sure when and how to bring it up appropriately. Also, how do I make sure I don’t overwhelm them when it is the first time I am talking about rape culture to them? Should I arrange a campaign at my high school or should I talk one on one? Also, I don’t want to trigger anyone, how do I do that?

Stop using mental illness as an insult

So, there’s this pattern. People hear about someone doing a horrible thing, or being systemically abusive to another person, or being bigoted, or being generally hateful, violent, or evil, and then express their disapproval by saying things like:

  • She *needs help*
  • He needs serious therapy
  • I hope he gets the help she needs

And, that’s a horrible thing to say. Because mental illness is not the same as being an abuser. Having a mental illness is not a moral failing, and treating others horribly is not a mental illness. Conflating those categories hurts people badly.

Some people do need therapy, medication, or other forms of treatment. Some people who need mental health treatment are also terrible people, but that is not because of their mental illness. It’s because of their choices and values. And many abusers and other dangerous people are not mentally ill at all.

Many, many good people struggle with serious mental illness and depend on medical treatment. Similarly, many good people struggle with mental illness and have no access to treatment for various reasons (eg: lack of insurance, lack of safe providers, fear of losing their jobs due to stigma). These people deserve better than to have their struggles thrown up as a way to insult abusers.

Mental illness is real, serious, and horribly stigmatized. It is not the same as being an abuser, and it’s really important to stop equating the two.

All autistic people are disabled

All autistic people are disabled.

No matter how well someone passes. No matter what someone has accomplished. No matter how well they speak. Even if they’re married with children.

All autistic people are disabled. And, if you interact with them enough, it will present a practical problem at some point.

And, if you are autistic yourself, you are going to face practical problems associated with it.

And that’s ok. Disability is not a big deal, if you accept and accommodate it.

Going around pretending that it is not so just makes everything harder.

An inadvertently creepy thing a lot of autistic people do

Sometimes autistic people want to hang out with a group of people and can’t tell if it’s ok to talk to them or not.

And then, they try to watch for a while to try and pick up on signs that interaction would be welcome.

This is generally a bad idea. The problem is that people find it uncomfortable to be watched by people who aren’t explaining their presence. If they’re not ok with you joining them, they’re probably not ok with you watching them, either.

It’s better to just go up to people and ask if it’s ok to join them. Watching first for more than a couple of seconds actually makes things worse.

You can’t appropriate your own mind

I briefly self diagnosed as autistic, but I met with my psychiatrist yesterday and she told me since I noticed social deficits and tried to compensate, and managed just like a neurotypical person, it was just social anxiety bc if I were autistic, I wouldn’t have noticed or been able to learn so well. she didn’t mention the cognitive things I brought up, so I’m guessing they were normal /insignificant. How do apologize on my tumblr for fucking this up and appropriating?
realsocialskills said:
You don’t owe anyone an apology. Anyone in our community who has suggested that sincere but mistaken self-diagnosis is appropriation owes *you* an apology.
Thinking you’re autistic and being wrong is not appropriation. We all make guesses about ourselves; some turn out to be right and some turn out to be wrong. Thinking you’re autistic and being wrong is not appropriative and it is not fucking up.
That said, from what you described, it’s not even clear to me that you are wrong about being autistic. I’m not a diagnostician and I don’t know you, so I can’t say one way or another. But it sounds to me that your psychiatrist is basing their response to you on stereotypes rather than professional knowledge of autism.
Not all psychiatrists are competent to evaluate autism, particularly in adults. Psychiatrists are primarily trained in mental health; autism is a developmental disability. Mental health training does not imply expertise in developmental disability. It’s entirely possible that your psychiatrist is disregarding your cognitive issues not because they are normal, but because your cognitive issues are outside their area of professional competence.
Most autistic people notice social deficits and try to compensate. Most autistic people generate effecting coping strategies for a lot of things, including social situations. All autistic people can do some things that neurotypical people can do. Being able to notice and compensate for problems does not mean you’re neurotypical.
It’s fairly common for people who think they’re autistic to be told by mental health professionals that if they’re self-aware enough to ask, they can’t possibly be autistic. Or that if they can do anything at all, it must mean they’re not autistic. Those are perceptions based on stereotypes, not accurate understandings of autism. People with advanced mental health training are just as prone to a stereotypical view of developmental disability as anyone else.
If your doctor is responding to your concerns in a way that might be based on stereotypes and misinformation, it’s probably a good idea to find someone else (perhaps a neuropsychologist) who has a better understanding of autism and is familiar with adult diagnosis.
You may or may not be autistic, but it sounds like you could benefit from investigating further. And ultimately, the opinion that matters most is your own. You know your own mind better than anyone else does.
And whatever conclusion you or any professional ends up reaching, you have done nothing wrong or appropriative. It’s ok, and important, to try to understand yourself and figure out what you need to make your life work.

Accessibility needs for psych reasons

I have a question about accessibility and needing things. I have OCD (actually), and one of my issues is contamination. I’ve realized is that it’s much more comfortable for me to use the accessible stalls in bathrooms, because they’re larger so it’s easier not to touch things. But, I’m able-bodied. I don’t want to make people wait when it’s not safe for them. But I also don’t want to do things like not drink water all day so I can avoid restrooms. Is there a way I can navigate this best?
realsocialskills said:
I’m not entirely sure, but this is how it looks to me.
I think that the bottom line is that accessible stalls/bathrooms are for people with disabilities who need accessibility features in order to be able to use a bathroom.
I don’t think psych disability is fundamentally different than mobility impairment in that regard. If you need a bathroom to have certain attributes in order to be able to use it, that’s a legitimate access need. OCD isn’t imaginary, and you can’t just will it out of existence because other people’s disabilities are different from yours.
If you’re doing unsafe things like going without water all day in order to avoid the bathroom, I think you ought to use the bathroom you can actually use.

On “feeling unsafe”

Sometimes, people in power use “feeling safe” in a manipulative way. They shift the conversation away from whether or not you actually are safe, and into a conversation about your feelings. Sometimes people in power who do this have a kind affect and seem to really care about helping you to feel better. This can make it hard to know in your own mind what the problem actually is, and hard to keep hold of your understanding that something is wrong and needs to be addressed.

It helps to keep in mind that these things are different:

  • Feeling unsafe in reaction to something even though you actually are safe
  • Seeing something as evidence that you are actually unsafe
  • People in power will often try to confuse you about which thing you are experiencing, but it’s important to stay mindful of the difference.

It’s also possible to have a feeling that you are unsafe, and not be sure whether it’s reasonable or not:

  • It’s important to take that feeling seriously
  • And to think through what it means, and whether there might be a real danger
  • Sometimes when you feel unsafe it will be an irrational reaction, but don’t be quick to dismiss it as one
  • If you think it’s an irrational reaction, make sure you have a concrete reason for thinking that it’s irrational and that things are actually ok

People can feel unsafe around someone for all kinds of reasons other than being unsafe:

  • Being bigoted against another group (eg: racist fear of black people)
  • Being triggered by something (eg: feeling afraid because seeing men wear hats is triggering)
  • Forgetting to take medication and having strange reactions to things as a result 
  • Taking a new medication with unexpected side effects that complicate your ability to perceive things accurately  
  • Misunderstanding something someone did or said (eg: taking something literally that was not intended literally)
  • Hallucinations
  • Being exhausted
  • When it’s this kind of thing, sometimes the external situation still needs to be addressed, but often it can be dealt with by processing things yourself 

But sometimes the problem is that you’re *actually not safe*, and sometimes this is in ways that it’s hard for other people to see, eg:

  • If you are being pressured to share private information with people who can’t be trusted to keep things confidential
  • If you are being pressured to use a ramp that is too steep to be safe, or allow people to carry you into an inaccessible building
  • If people around you are bigoted against you in subtle, but constantly corrosive ways
  • If people are intentionally triggering you in order to confuse and disorient you into doing what they want
  • If you’re being triggered in a way that makes it impossible for you to understand what is going on well enough to keep yourself safe, even if no one is doing it on purpose
  • If there is no food available that you can safely eat for an extended period
  • If you are experiencing executive functioning problems in ways that make it hard or impossible for you to do things that are necessary for survival, and no one is willing to help you
  • If you’re spending a lot of time in a environment is physically overloading in painful ways
  • If you have medical problems and doctors refuse to communicate in a way you can understand, or if you only have access to them in an environment that prevents you from communicating
  • and any number of other things

All of these things are the kind of thing that apparently well-meaning people will often try to address by trying to get you to process your feelings so that you will feel safe. That’s a dangerous reaction, and it’s important to notice when people are doing it, and to learn how to insist that they address the actual safety issue.

Sometimes the feeling is the problem.

Sometimes the problem is that you’re *actually not safe*.

If someone’s trying to manage your feelings rather than the actual threat to your safety, it’s important to remember that they’re doing a bad thing. And that it’s ok to want to actually *be* safe, even if all they want to do is make you *feel* safe. 

Cooperation with feelings derails is one of the hardest anti-skills to unlearn. But it’s also really, really important.