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When I was just six years old, my first grade teacher, Sister Alvera, called my mother and told her I was retarded. Now, I know “retarded” is not politically correct, but I use the word only for myself because having that word applied to me at such a young age has had a radical effect on my life even after all these years.

My teacher “diagnosed” me because I was struggling with my speech. I had such a bad speech impediment that no one could understand a single word I said. I remember going through extensive testing but I was never removed from my first grade classroom. This situation infuriated Sister Alvera who decided if I wasn’t “retarded” than I just must be lazy. Every time I mispronounced a word in class, my teacher would hit me. I remember being smacked, punched, kicked, locked in closets for the afternoon, and being forced to kneel for hours all in the hope that I would begin to speak clearly.

Of course, it had the exact opposite effect. I became highly withdrawn. I was completely mute for about three years. But, surprisingly, that might have been part of my original, professional, medical diagnosis. It wasn’t until I was an adult that my mother finally told me the result of all of the clinical testing. I had been diagnosed with social autism.

I still struggle to make eye contact when speaking to people. I have a hard time bonding with other people. That could be why I never got married. I have a difficult time understanding and acting on social cues. I struggle sometimes to understand when someone isn’t telling the truth.  I can be gullible to other people’s stories and at times have given away money, property, and my own spirit and power to someone else’s sad tales and deceptive lies. I have had to learn over the years to be vigilant about my boundaries and who I let into my life.

Yet, even with these struggles, I don’t lie. I don’t cheat. I don’t call other people names. I don’t scream at people or shout ugly things at them. I don’t steal or take from anyone. I don’t intentionally insult anyone. (We all put our foot in our mouths from time to time, though, don’t we?!). It would never occur to me to walk up to anyone, friend or stranger, and comment, “You’ve gained weight” or “You’re too thin” or “That looks awful on you.” I’ve never mocked or made fun of other people behind their back. 

So sometimes, when I’m out in public, and hear people swearing and yelling at each other, or I hear the nasty things people say to each other, I often wonder, “Wait a minute…exactly WHO is socially autistic?”