Ask an autistic woman: Natalie

What's it like to be an autistic woman today?

For too long the face of autism was a white cis male. Thankfully, with more research into the female phenotype, that’s changing. As a result, more girls and women are being identified as autistic, and in the case of women like me who were diagnosed later in life, the effect is transformative and often healing.

But these things take time, and there is still far to go before the average person understands the dichotomies of autism as they relate to gender.

In this series, I host a Q&A with a fellow autistic woman. I aim to shed light on a multitude of experiences and presentations.

Today’s guest on Ask an Autistic Woman is Natalie Stechyson, an award-winning journalist, lifelong writer, and mom of two young autistic boys. Fan of naps, books, and adult rompers.

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Tell me about your path to diagnosis.

I’ve always been an extremely anxious person. A little awkward. Prone to depression, and burnout, and lying like a corpse under my blankets until my skin stops itching. Especially since having kids. But isn’t that just typical motherhood stuff? I always thought so until both my boys were diagnosed with autism.

My older son was diagnosed first, when he was barely five. It wasn’t even on my radar as a possibility for him. Spirited? Yes. Prone to meltdowns? Absolutely. So angrily obsessed with umbrellas that we had to stop keeping them in the house to maintain any semblance of sanity? Indeed. But autistic? How? He was verbal, social, cuddly, sweet and loving, intelligent … and, as it turns out, also autistic. I had to dismantle my own inherent ableism and face prejudices I didn’t even know I held very quickly after he was diagnosed. I cringe now at how uninformed I was.

Then came my younger son, who is my older son’s opposite. Quiet, calm, but fiercely stubborn. Happy to do his own thing, as long as that thing isn’t eating anything except Ritz crackers or leaving the comfort of the house. A math and numbers whiz with a scary memory who also can’t figure out which shoe goes on which foot. In the process of his diagnosis at age four, I quickly learned that autism looks different in everyone.

I love research. So of course I’d read about autism in women by then. Clocked the articles and checklists that matched my own profile to a weirdly specific tee. Gifted as a child? Yes. Prone to anxiety and depression? Check. Shuts down in stressful situations? Yes, I am potato. Specific interests? Ask me about my mug collection. Preparing jokes and planning conversations ahead of time? There’s a reason I spend so long in the shower.

But I clocked it more as, “hmm, interesting,” than anything. Nothing I really needed to pursue or even think about much. Until I tried to write a book.

I’ve always wanted to be an author. I’m a journalist - currently I’ve been working for CBC since 2021. But my dream has always been to write fiction. So, a few years ago I started writing, and struggled so much more than I expected. First, it turns out I am not imaginative. I am very good at writing about my own experiences in vivid detail. I’ve written plenty of parenting columns without breaking a sweat. I’ve been writing the news for 17 years. But when it comes to imagining the experiences of others and creating plots that haven’t happened in real life? Total block.

No matter, I would write a book based on my own life, then, and build a main character based on myself.

So, I did that a few summers ago. Then I reached out to a few freelance editors to help me with my (atrocious) first draft, and it was their questions about the main character that made me realize what I always thought was typical was maybe… not so much. They didn’t always understand her motivations, her behaviours, her anxieties and resentments. In many ways, she came off as unlikeable. Why is she always so agitated? Why would she self-sabotage like this? Why did I include an entire section about ceiling fans? Why does she peel the skin off her feet?

Right. So. Between that experience, and having one kid diagnosed and the other in the assessment process, I decided it was time to look into my own assessment. I found a lovely neuropsychologist in Kingston who works with adults. I went through a gruelling, full day of IQ tests (bringing up all sorts of childhood trauma from my “gifted” days), reams of questionnaires and several interviews.

Six weeks later, she diagnosed me with autism spectrum disorder. Still waiting on that book deal, though, haha.

What do you like about being autistic?

That’s a hard one to answer. I’m still processing the diagnosis from last summer and teasing apart what’s autism, what’s deeply ingrained masking, and what’s just… me.

So, maybe it's easier to think about my strengths. I like that I can delve so deeply into a topic that interests me. It has served me very well as a journalist. I can become obsessed with a beat, learn everything there is to know about it, and force other people to read in-depth stories about, say, the chicken wars of New Brunswick (a real thing!), the history of Christmas cards, and every cheese heist in modern history (there’s been a… shocking number of these).

I like that I have intense focus, even if it’s sometimes to a fault. When I write, I forget about the world around me (my bosses remind me to take breaks now that I’ve disclosed my diagnosis at work). I can read a good book in two days. I’ll lie in bed repeating turns of phrase and certain passages I’ve either read or written or plan to write over and over in my head, memorizing and perfecting them.

I like that I’m empathetic. I may not always say the right thing, and I’m likely to crack an awkward joke in a tense situation, but I care deeply about people. I make sure my boys know they’re loved every day. It’s the most important thing I do as a mother.

What do you struggle with?

Noise. Have I mentioned I’m raising two young boys? And yes, ear plugs exist, but I’m afraid if I wear them I’ll miss an enthusiastic conversation about jumping off the roof. Once I tried to read a book while my kids were in the backyard and when I looked up they had dismantled the jungle gym.

Anyway, noise is a huge trigger for me. Especially competing noises, like music playing when people are talking, or the TV blasting over music playing while people are talking. Usually at that point, someone also turns on a bathroom fan somewhere in my house and part of me dies. Ceiling fans can push me over the edge in a noisy room. The spinning. WHY do these exist?

Clutter and mess also trigger me. Also a problem in my veritable frat house. I’ve realized recently that I am baseline agitated almost all of the time between the noise and the mess of my house. Throw in the kid meltdowns, typical childhood injuries, and an accident–prone husband prone to dropping dishes, and my nervous system is constantly in overdrive. No wonder the main character in my book is so unlikeable, lol.

What has improved since your diagnosis?

I’ve been working on giving myself permission to rest and recover. Which sounds basic, maybe, but in the trenches of parenthood it’s not so easy. I’ve started telling my husband when I need to lie down after an outing, for instance, instead of pushing through my discomfort. I'll skip book club (my one real social outlet) if I know I need to lie under a blanket and read alone in order to wake up and function the next day.

I’m starting to understand what pushes me into burnout and panic, and that if I don’t recharge I’ll pay for it mentally and physically.

I’ve been working with a therapist on radical self-acceptance. So far for me that looks like wearing a lot of rompers and drapey sweaters. Maybe pants are also a trigger. Whatever, it’s a start.

What would you still like to change?

I would like to see more resources and information out there for late-diagnosed adults. I’m not sure what I expected to happen once I was diagnosed. Well, that’s a lie. I expected to experience some kind of transcendent unmasking. That suddenly my true self would emerge. I, autistic! But, yeah, that didn’t happen.

The problem with a late diagnosis is I don’t know where the masking stops and my true self begins. Do I even actually like restaurants, for instance? I always thought so. But when I think about it, do I? They’re loud, they’re cold, I feel on display, I’m prone to making awkward conversations with the wait staff, there’s probably an expectation you’ll wear real pants, and they usually have ceiling fans. Maybe I just like food.

Anyway, I expected some kind of knowing, or direction, or even instruction. Like, you're autistic: here’s how to deal with that! Here’s who you really are! Here are all the answers you were seeking! Instead I mostly ignored my diagnosis for months and dabbled in depression.

I’m lucky to have a friend who is a late-diagnosed autistic woman, too, and conversations with her have helped. That and therapy. And exercise to help keep me sane.

Can you tell me a bit about a special interest you have right now or have had in the past?

My interests can come and go in waves of intensity. A few years ago it was gardening. I’d never gardened until we moved to the suburbs in 2020. Next thing you know I’m out front laying edging at 10pm and digging up half the lawn to plant more hydrangeas. Then that kind of petered out. As I type this I am surrounded by dying house plants. I don’t feel great about it.

Books have always been huge for me. Not just reading them, but collecting them. I was obsessed with The Baby-Sitters Club series as a kid. I had every single book, plus all the spinoffs. I was in the official fan club. I had the collectible dolls (Claudia and Mallory). My mom swears she kept my collection but hasn’t been able to find it. So I started collecting them again last year. Now I have fun checking thrift shops for the originals.

Speaking of books, I have a colour-coded bookshelf in my office. I also collect Starbucks “place” mugs that I keep in a row in my kitchen. I like that they evoke specific memories of certain stages of my life. Like the Calgary mug I bought in 2013 when I worked at the Herald. The Vancouver Island mug my husband bought me when he interned in Victoria back when we were dating. The Maui mug from a whirlwind trip we took with my sister and her husband when we were all newlyweds. I love my mugs. I get very agitated when other people use them, though. Break one upon pain of death. I’m fun to live with, lol.

My kids are autistic stereotypes in terms of special interests. My older son loves penguins. My younger son loves numbers. They’re both currently obsessed with Lego.

What would you tell your pre-diagnosed self if you could?

It’s not selfish to want to understand yourself. No one will think you’re getting a diagnosis for the attention. No one will even care that much, ha.

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I hope you enjoyed this Q&A. I’m currently looking for autistic voices who identify as female to feature as part of this series. If that’s you, please get in touch. If privacy is a concern, know that I am more than willing to keep your identity anonymous.