I began writing mostly for myself. As I explained previously, for a number of years I was very private about the fact that I am autistic. But there were things I wished people knew about neurodiversity and its infinite stories. And there were things I wished I could tell people about me. One aspect of my social communication differences is that I communicate much better in writing than face to face conversation, particularly if the topic is personal and important to me. So I very often can't tell people things, even if I would like them to know. Writing also helps me to organise what is in my head, so I may not know what the thing is that I may or may not want to communicate! A double barrier to getting the message through.
So writing blog posts allowed me to
- organise my thoughts more clearly
- identify some of my feelings and opinions more clearly
- express things that I wanted people to know (in general or about me)
When you set off... |
Of course my expression at that stage was simply that: expression. Because I couldn't own up to being its author, I couldn't actually give it an audience. That was mostly fine by me: I think at that stage knowing there was a possibility of it being read might have been enough to stop me writing it. We often move in small steps in life that take us gradually to places we didn't dare or want to imagine. Once there, we can find that they are adorned with unexpected delights.
This little blog of mine now has a small readership, and from time to time I do wonder who is reading it and what they make of it. Some I know - friends and family who comment or chat to me about things I've posted, but beyond that it very much is still the ether, and I'm happy with that.
...you never know quite where you'll find yourself! |
Then I receive a message asking if I'll help inform some training on supporting neurodiversity in the workplace. A fellow dancer I see for a week every year or two brings it up on the first day that I see her and says she enjoys reading it. A friend from church greets me by the name Peggy and gives an encouraging comment. There's a second of alarm as I realise that these people, some relative strangers, others I've known for years but never discussed my difficulties and differences and labels with, know all this information about me that I think of as very private.
But I have concluded that what follows that second of alarm is most definitely worth it. Connectedness, being understood, being accepted as well as known, finding out that I've helped somebody in a personal or professional relationship - I've made a valuable contribution to somebody and they cared enough to tell me. These things can be hard to come by when you can't just talk to people, so they are treasured when they come.
So now this little bloggy isn't just a help for my brain; it has a lovely little life of its own and brings me back gifts from time to time. It's now a treat to discover which people have been lurking in the shadows of the blogosphere and finding my words, and to hear what those words have done in the places they have travelled through.
So thank you very much please and thank you to you, sir, for doing the reading and the thinking.
And get in touch, lurkers! I did it to somebody else a while ago, who was equally surprised to find I'd been reading her blog avidly!
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