As a writer, what inspires me to create a particular character often comes from gut feel. It’s not a conscious thing, at least at first, the reasons of which only become apparent with some distance.
That’s why for a while, other than it just felt right at the time, I couldn’t otherwise articulate why I was compelled to write a story about an adult with autism. Until now.
There are times when we want to tell the stranger next to us that we’ve had a very bad day. Or to call up an old friend and tell the person how sorry we are. Or be the first to say “I love you” in a relationship.
For neurotypicals, we may not say those things because of fear. Fear of being judged, humiliated, or even worse – ignored. We are afraid to say what we want to say when we feel vulnerable. Autistics may have those very same vulnerabilities and fears, but layered on top of that is an inability to verbalize what they want to say.
We all struggle on some level to communicate what we want, how we feel, who we really are. So to see someone transcend these very struggles is a beautiful thing. It’s what we hope for in ourselves and in others – to have our voices heard (and is a big reason that compels me to write stories, play music and make movies – like a compulsion more than a desire, regardless of the pain or maddening frustration that can come with it).
And so that desire to overcome and speak from our hearts and minds is universal. Whether it is the terrified boy mustering up the courage to come out to his parents as a gay teen. Or the emotionally isolated career woman admitting her need for help in overcoming addiction by stepping foot into a recovery program. Or an autistic man communicating his love for his family through a tablet device that verbalizes what he cannot physically say.
Because ultimately isn’t that what we all want – to be understood?