Change is ouchy and yucky. It means moving away from the familiar and predictable where I know what to do and what to expect. It means I don't know what will happen or how things will be. It means different, and for me, different and unknown is unavoidably tagged with unsafe.
So if a change is happening I am automatically vulnerable, and my brain is telling me I am in danger. This is part of my autistic neurology not just a psychological conditioning that I can teach myself to think differently about.
A change in myself is extra problematic, because not only is the world unpredictable and unreliable, but I myself become so. For a while I am not who I am used to being, and I don't know what I think of the new version. Initially, different is almost always wrong (again neurological, not a conscious choice), so I must learn to accept the new version and whilst doing so any reminder that it is a new version increases the awareness of change and feeling of discomfort.
An unwelcome or unchosen change, or one I have no control over, feels even more unsafe, for obvious reasons.
So I like to keep my information safe, to be in control of people's perception of me, to have any changes I do decide to make firmly fixed in my head and adjusted to before they are presented to others.
When I tell someone a piece of information I am no longer in control of it. It is like a little bit of me has been stolen and I don't know for certain what will happen to it. It might get shared with more people, so I might get a shock if someone talks to me about something I haven't personally told them about (it may or may not be that I don't want the other person to know, but I certainly want to know who knows!). Or something else may happen with the information. If I tell someone I like stripy socks, they may go and buy me three pairs of stripy socks thinking it will make me happy. I might like the new stripy socks, but I did not expect them or ask for them and so they cause disarray in my mind. They might even be the wrong kind of stripes, or the wrong kind of fabric, or I might not have space in my drawer for any more socks, or I might have been looking forward to choosing myself some new socks when I had worn through some of my older pairs, but now I can't justify that because I have too many socks already. I must remember to communicate my gratitude for the gift in a neurotypically-understood way, and figure out whether I am to reciprocate in kind, or in some other way at some unspecified point in the future by doing a favour or giving a different kind of gift (which I must then remember to do!), or whether it would be considered strange or ungrateful to give a gift in return. This is a hypothetical situation but one that could happen to me, just to give you an idea of how even a simple piece of information can run away from me and cause difficulty, even though everyone's intentions are kindness and I might well like the socks!
Other people having my information brings all kinds of unpredictability. In addition to the issues above, simply the fact that they now know the thing in my head means that they may choose to talk to me about it at a time when I was not thinking about it, and that is unexpected and out of my control, which makes me feel cross, which is actually because I don't feel safe because things are out of my control and unpredictable. I find it easiest to talk about things or make changes or decisions when I am in control of them and they can't run away from me and take on a life of their own.
Changes and decisions take me a very long time to process. When I need a new phone, I start thinking about six months before my contract runs out "Soon I will have to think about what phone I am going to buy." I then need to look several times at what is available, over a period of several weeks (usually a month or two), ideally both in shops and online, before I am ready to make my decision, buy the new phone and change over to it. I thought about dying my hair for probably about ten years before deciding to actually try it, then for a few more months as I decided whether to really do it, when, and which shade to buy. It then took me about three weeks to get used to without being put out at my own appearance in the mirror. And the shade wasn't that different from my natural colour.
I tend not to consult other people until right at the end of this process, when I feel I have got my head round a change that is going to happen. I would rarely share that I am thinking of getting a new x, y or z, because somebody might get one before I'm ready and I hadn't decided which one I wanted. They might not get the one I want, or, because it takes me so long to think about it, I wouldn't know whether it was the right one or not - I am rushed into making a decision or someone making one, before my opinion is formed. And then I never like the thing because I never had the opportunity to decide whether I liked it. Once I am mentally adjusted I am a little more able to cope with other people's responses. I didn't tell anyone I was hopeful of a relationship with Mr Peggy until we actually got together. I probably won't discuss the names we are thinking of for baby until baby is born and we have decided on a name. It helps me keep ownership of the decision and feel as though I belong to the new version of things.
But because any change has been such a big mental shift, it can still make me feel unsettled when people comment on a change, because it highlights in my head that it has occurred and even when the change is a positive one it still carries a quantity of discomfort in its newness. To have people comment on a change in me makes me feel vulnerable. Perhaps because it points out the me-ness in the change - I have made a change based on a personal decision or preference, other people will see part of my personality and then be able to judge me on that.
So sometimes I don't make changes. Often I have no desire to make changes - sameness is very happy to many autistic people. If I do make a change sometimes I don't tell anyone about it, or I hide it. The final line of defence is to head off or disarm the worst of the discomfort by getting in there before anyone can comment on it. Tell everyone about it, make a joke about it, out it before someone else can, before it's out of your control. You still have to deal with all the problems I explained before about people knowing the thing, but at least their finding out was under your control.
Changes happen when you are pregnant. For quite a while you can hide them. I told people before it became unavoidable so that it was in my control. But you can't control when people start seeing or commenting on your bump. In pregnancy it is suddenly not only acceptable but lovely and wonderful to talk about your body size and shape and CHANGES that are happening. But I am still adjusting to those changes and I don't have the luxury like when I'm going to dye my hair, of not telling anyone until I am ready to. They can say what they want when they want, and they aren't being horrible, they are excited just like I am (OK, the only person who can be as excited as me is Mr Peggy, because it is after all our baby! But they are still excited.) and most people like to talk about that kind of thing. But change for me is always uncomfortable, even when it is the best kind of change in the world, like having a baby that we have waited so long for (and I know for sure I'm not the only one who isn't always happy as Larry about everything that happens during pregnancy).
The best thing you can do? Ask me factual questions, ask me how I'm coping with pregnancy or what the best and worst things are for me at the moment, tell me lovely stories (not horror stories!) about moments you treasure from pregnancy or your children's early lives. And with general changes, a comment that acknowledges the change but doesn't focus on it can be better for me than an outright, "Oooh, you've had a haircut!" (This is one reason that I haven't had a haircut for five years. I never have to have that conversation. What am I meant to say to that? "Um, yes, that is true, clearly."). Or maybe what I'm thinking is to be specific rather than general. I prefer a conversation that is about something... where the response to what you have said is logical not something I have to dream up. Maybe pick an aspect rather than commenting generally. "I like the colour," with no preamble, rather than "Have you had your hair done, ooh it really suits you." This is similar to how I don't like greetings and would rather just enter straight into a conversation. Or say it indirectly to someone else in my hearing: "I love Square Peggy's new hair!" When it comes to acknowledging change I think for me it links a lot with Exposure Anxiety, and the types of approaches that work well with this and PDA can be helpful - indirect communication. See this post and this one for a little on this, or Google. But perhaps these are points for a discussion on neurodiverse communication tendencies!
Basically, a long old ramble to say change is hard, acknowledging change is even harder, both of these make me feel unsafe and like the world is falling apart or bits of me are being stolen. You can help by asking questions that I know how to answer instead of making comments which can leave me feeling almost violated, and by being specific, or by talking indirectly about things.
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