Here’s something I never thought I would admit publicly…
Once I told a therapist something I had thought about my entire life. You could say I was secretly obsessed.
I devoured books on the subjects, spent a fair amount of time in class and home daydreaming about it, and talking about it with the people a few chosen people around me.
What were these dreams I often kept to myself?
I had the most intense fascination with being blind or deaf. Not only did I secretly harbor a deep desire to actually experience both of these things at least temporarily, but I sometimes even felt a strange envy for those who were blind or deaf – I couldn’t explain why.
We explored what might have been going on underneath those feelings, and I accepted that it was a piece of my past to put down. This felt like a good enough explanation at the time, and I put this subject down altogether.
And I didn’t pick it back up again until years later when I realized there was an explanation that fit me better, and I wish we both picked up on way back when.
(Have you guess autism, yet? Because if not … that’s where I’m going with this.)
See, I eventually realized that this yet another one of those things I had to chalk it up to being autistic.
Both noises/sounds and visual stimulation often easily gets to be too much for me. I didn’t realize it when I was younger, but these things made lasting impacts on my mood/day.
So, I naturally found ways to deal with this issue without even realizing it was one at the time. (Brains are wild, I know!)
For example, I would constantly take frequent bathroom breaks in stores, school, or new places in order to get a quiet moment to myself.
Finally, one day I made the connection. I realized that these fascinations with being blind and deaf were fueled from my sensory issues and being autistic.
That fascination never totally went away, but it’s evolved. These days, it’s less about wanting to escape sensory overload and more about understanding what life is like for people who are blind or deaf. I even went to college to learn sign language at one point, hoping to connect more deeply with deaf culture and communication.
Ironically, I found it too overstimulating…the pace, the visual attention, the social energy it required. My sensory challenges were still there, just in a new form. But the desire to understand and empathize hasn’t gone away.
Now, I’m drawn to learn from disabled voices, not out of pity or fascination, but out of a deep respect for their lived experiences and a real desire to understand the world beyond my own perspective.
This kind of intense fixation or “special interest” (especially when tied to sensory needs) is actually a really common autistic trait. It’s one of the ways our brains try to process and manage overwhelming environments.
I believe that even the small things like my silly childhood dreams added up to a colossal burnout in adulthood for me. I don’t think I’m alone on this, either.
I wish when I was younger i had the tools to accommodate myself, instead of quietly enduring the hard parts and later dealing with the fallout of not knowing.
But that’s what growth is. Now I know.
For those who relate: You’re not alone. Your brain may have been doing its best to cope in a world that didn’t quite fit.
For those who don’t: This is just one example of how autism can show up in ways that aren’t obvious. It’s not always what people expect… and that’s exactly why understanding matters.
The more we talk about these “little things,” the more we open the door for others to be seen, supported, and understood, maybe for the first time.
There’s so much more to say about sensory overwhelm and what coping looked like before I had language for it. Definitely a topic for another post.
Have you ever looked back and realized something like this about yourself? I’d love to hear your story.
*** I want to be clear that my childhood feelings weren’t about romanticizing or diminishing anyone’s experience of disability. I just didn’t yet understand my own sensory needs and how my autistic brain was trying to process the world around me.
-the mom with the forehead tattoo
Leave a Reply