Dear John,
There are all kinds of factors which mean that you lean towards self-sufficiency. You are a man, very capable in some areas, from a strongly individualist culture. And your autism means that in some ways you are even less likely to ask for help.
There are echoes of it in the creation story – we’re told that though lots of different things in creation were good, “it is not good for the man to be alone”. That doesn’t mean that everyone should be in a sexual relationship; it does mean that people are not meant to function in isolation. Autistic people doubly so.
Remember where we started with this. If we use the Dungeons and Dragons analogy, you have very high skills in some areas, and very low skills in others. In a D&D game, that would mean that there are some “easy” opponents that you would find difficult, and other “difficult” opponents that you would find easy. The solution to that is that you need to be part of a team with people that are not like you.
You are not fine on your own. None of us is enough. Your autism is, or should be, a massive flashing sign saying that you need others. And that’s a good thing. I’m now a big fan of pointing out that in Ephesians 4:14-15, there is a contrast between “infants, tossed back and forth by the waves” and people becoming mature by growing together into a single person. We should all be on a journey from individualism to glorious community.
For starters, you need to get much better at asking for advice and help. Sure, most people you speak to won’t have your book learning, academic intelligence or intellectual skill. But almost everyone you speak to is significantly better than you in some important areas and may well have insights that you’d find helpful. So when you see someone doing something you can’t do, ask them how. Not because you can necessarily copy them directly, but because you can learn how to do many of those things in a way that works for you.
Asking for help is also an important way of adopting a (right) posture of humility. You aren’t meant to be the expert in the room on everything, and you get much better results if you learn to ask good questions rather than just give your opinions. I heard a rule recently that one leader says that he aims to ask three good questions on a topic to gauge the wisdom in the room before expressing his opinion.
It also means vulnerability, which is putting yourself in a position where other people can hurt you. And I know that’s really hard for you, because you have been hurt so much and affirmed so little. I know you want to be able to sing with Paul Simon that you are a rock, and that a rock feels no pain. But here’s a wonderful quote from C.S. Lewis that I still come back to.
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.
I’m not at all saying that you don’t need “alone time”. You really do. But don’t keep on being alone. Keep on trying to connect with others. Keep on trying to be vulnerable. Yes, you keep on getting hurt, but in doing so you learn to love and to be loved and it eventually gets better.
All the best,
Future John
Fearfully & Wonderfully Broken is a series of letters from an autistic pastor to his teenage self, covering topics like faith, autism, disability and how to cope with life.
Most of the titles are deliberately wrong, and/or provocative (see letter 2).
John Allister is the vicar of St Jude’s Church in Nottingham, England.
At age 18, he was a maths/science geek who didn’t realise he was autistic.