My brother was a big source of my life lessons. I could say that I learned who I wanted to be in the world because of who he is. My brother, Jacob, is autistic.

When he was diagnosed no one really knew what autism was. I remember feeling like he was the first one, ever. Now, I know that he wasn’t but because it was 33 years ago when we got the diagnosis, there weren’t a lot of people to share that load with us. He was different, we knew that. What we weren’t sure of was how his being different would affect our lives.

Jacob has always been blunt. There is no filter. He isn’t trying to be mean or hurt someone, he just says what’s on his mind. Now, I know that some people use this excuse as the reason that they say mean things to people, but that isn’t Jacob.

He wouldn’t even know to use an excuse for his frankness. He doesn’t understand that we have societal norms and you can’t tell a person they are ugly or obese,etc.

I remember one time in high school I brought a couple friends home. One of them was beautiful. I mean, this girl was movie star pretty, and my other friend was not the societally acceptable view of attractive. I knew it would be something Jacob commented on, I just didn’t know how.

As soon as we walked in the door he came over to us, put his arm around the pretty one and kissed her on the cheek. He then proceeded to call my unattractive friend, “miss big nose”. Now, I know you are probably laughing at the screen right now, but for me, that sort of thing defined my formative years.

I had to learn how to dodge and weave through conversations.

In really awkward moments, Jacob forced me to learn how to make it less weird for everyone around me. He taught me how to make everyone in the group feel comfortable. I learned very quickly how to deflect pain, lift people up, and highlight peoples genuine strengths. I had to. Jacob forced me into that role.

I’m grateful for that.

At the time, it seemed like a negative. It felt like I had added pressure on myself and my life. It felt like I had it tougher than other people in some situations. Having an autistic brother seemed a little unfair.

Little did I know, his presence in my life equipped me with one of my favorite qualities about myself.

I had a pretty sheltered childhood. My parents loved each other. They taught me wrong from right. We had a lot of support from friends and family. I’ve always felt loved.

My first experience with the opposite of that was in 5th grade. There was this 6th grade boy, out on the playground, that called my brother a retard.

My brother is autistic and he was certainly different from anyone else in my school, so it was not uncommon for people to talk about him. The shock came when I realized that hate and dismissal was also going to be present in my life, because of him.

I hadn’t thought, up until that point, that anyone would ever be mean to me. It’s not that I didn’t know it existed, it was just that I didn’t think it was meant for me.

The gut punch was real.

I didn’t know how bad it hurt to be put on the outside of the “inside”, if that makes sense. I immediately felt aware of my shortcomings and the things that made me different. I DID have a brother that was autistic, and maybe he was what that kid said he was.

So what does that mean for me?

Does that make me less? I started questioning everything. My bubble was broken. I was no longer perfect. I had to make up for that imperfection. So I got to work. I started caring about clothes, and who I hung out with. Were they cool enough? Were they athletic enough? Was I smart enough? Was I nice enough?

I started practicing all of the sports I had loved, for the sake of loving up until that point, with a different endgame in mind. I needed to stand out. I needed to be “good” in some way that was noticeable to others. I needed to make up for the fact that my brother was different. If I could do that, then maybe I could mask the pain for him and for myself.

I know we all go through something similar to this in our lives. I know the valley creates the human, but I hadn’t thought about the ramifications of these lessons in our personalities.

For example, BECAUSE I can feel this story on every level, I have intense reactions to things related to “not enoughness”. At this point, for me, the physical reaction I have when I see a person being ostracized feels overwhelming, and almost innate. Now, I know it isn’t, but it feels like it could be, and that’s the point.

If I’m not very aware of how I feel about something, and where it comes from, then my reactions to you might not be what I would choose them to be. I have to always be aware of the fact that we all come into relationships with our own set of stories. It’s of the utmost importance to me that I learn how my backstories affect my reactions because I don’t want to react to you in a way that feels innate. I want to react to you, in a way that I CHOOSE.

It’s a discipline. It’s a practice. I’m not perfect. I screw it up a lot of the time, but I am trying.

Tag: Autism

Chapter 11 (The Awkward Moments)

Chapter 3 (The Gut Punch)

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