A Very “Merry” Autistic Holiday
Zoey Giesberg, FACT Intern & Future MSW
Holidays and celebrations have always come with some baggage for me. I would start uncontrollably sobbing whenever a birthday cake with lit candles was brought out at parties and fights with siblings would always happen at any family gathering when I was a child. I have thankfully stopped being terrified at birthday cake candles (now made ironic by my undying love of scented candles), but family gatherings still make me tense up and force my otherwise extroverted personality into a withdrawn brooding mouse. More often than not, I’m a quietly ticking time bomb at any holiday celebration.
I could chalk this up to my personal history with my family, but I’d say it registers more with my overall autistic tendencies. How do you get someone who doesn’t quite read as autistic to showcase it in full force? Throw them in the middle of a party with about ten to twenty people and watch what happens! I personally tend to clam up, avert my gaze from everyone, search for any opportunity to speak only to have no room to say anything, and my brain turns everyone’s words and voices into Charlie Brown’s teacher on fast-forward. WAAHWAAHWAAHWAAH WAAAAAAAHHH. Any spark I have, anything to make me compelling or stand out is gone. I try to do what’s appropriate in these situations – find people to engage with one-on-one, insert myself into any space in conversation where I have something to contribute, present myself as the amiable woman I’m often told I am – but all the effort in the world doesn’t erase feeling purposely ignored if not excluded.
The need for attention in groups isn’t uncommon but seeing my family and guests easily get on with each other with little to no noticeable effort really is telling to me. It goes to show how certain innate social skills remain elusive to any neuro-atypical – following two to three conversations at a time in a group, smoothly jumping into others’ conversations without interrupting and off-topic, and not fishing for compliments. The last one is a struggle for me as so many events involve family cooking and I constantly feel like I have to ask people if they like my cooking to get reassurance about my overall personhood. It’s as annoying as it sounds, but I’m not totally sure how to break it at this point.
Needless to say, I’ve got a lot to work on in order to have an enjoyable holiday season.
What can be taken from all of this? My advice is to ensure that any autistic people you know feel included in holiday and family celebrations. Make sure they get as many chances as possible to get involved in one-on-one conversations and activities. If they contribute to the celebrations such as decoration or preparing food, thank them for their efforts before they have the chance to ask and let your guests know about their contributions. There’s nothing more reassuring than feeling like you are part of the celebration and it will result in a happier holiday.