Mother in Law: Autism in girls

At the beginning of this year I wrote a blog about the perpetually anxious Deceptively Angelic Child no.1. I can definitely call her 'perpetually' anxious because when I went to save the blog to my computer, I realised I had written a very similar blog with the same file name in June 2022. I felt very much like that mum on Mumsnet who asked the Mumsnet community whether they recommended a particular stroller, then responded to her self saying she did recommend the stroller, not realising she authored the original post. Are we all just swimming around like Dory these days? Anyway, that’s not what this article is about. 

This blog, unusually for me, was very much an offering of parenting advice, rather than the more usual list of hapless struggles. But immediately, in response, the Gazette received an email offering me some parenting advice. The advice was very specific: DALC1 sounds like she has autism. Now let me be very clear: I am always open to advice. I know sometimes I can lose objectivity and I long for well-intentioned, straightforward people to tell me how they meet their time recording targets, or stick to a food budget, or get their kids to practice their musical instruments. The person who emailed said he wished he had got a diagnosis for his daughter sooner as it had been transformative and they may have avoided post-GCSE burnout. I do not want DALC1 to have post-GCSE or post-anything burnout.

I had to read the article again to see what this person had seen in it that I had not. I had said that DALC1 was a striver, was slow to make friends, was very sensitive and perceptive, and clingy. I said that she continually pulled us into her whirlwind of anxious feelings, only being content when we were feeling as much pain as her. Not classic autism traits, although I already knew girls can present differently. 

I then emailed the man back to thank him and ask for a bit more information, but he didn’t reply. I reckon my anonymous email address may have sent my email straight to his spam folder. Maybe he will get in touch again if he sees this. So I bought a book about autism in girls to see what I could teach myself. Even if she’s not autistic, I find the brain fascinating and anything that can help me deal with my family, colleagues and clients is welcome. I’ve also done quite a lot of neurodiversity training at work.

There are some real problems, for me, in talking about autistic traits. If I was writing about the menopause and mentioned hot flushes, I don’t think anyone would comment angrily to say 'I went through the menopause but didn’t have hot flushes'. But I bet if I say that DALC1 doesn’t have a problem making eye contact I may be criticised for not appreciating that you can have autism and still make eye contact. Lots of the stereotypical traits (think Young Sheldon) are actually typical traits but I understand that people get annoyed when those traits are focused on to the exclusion of more nuanced traits and, importantly, what happens when those traits are masked. Everything that I am about to say is well-intentioned, said from a place of continuing learning, and I know doesn’t apply to everyone.

Typical traits of autism include difficulty in understanding other people’s thoughts and feelings, a need for order, an intense interest in a specific topic or activity, having difficulty or sensitivity to sensory processing (eg smells or bright lights) and taking things very literally.

For various reasons girls with autism can present very differently. There are lots of unspoken and nuanced social rules for girls, and the social aspect of their lives tends to be bigger than for boys. This leads to masking of their autistic traits, mimicking to fit in, or withdrawing so they don’t risk getting it wrong. Inevitably that then leads to exhaustion, and burnout, and meltdowns at home.

The book failed to convince me that DALC1 is autistic. She has been able to 'get a joke' since she was able to understand words. To say she 'gets' people is the understatement of the century - if anything, it is her superpower. Yes, she’s hesitant with new friendships and if I burp she can smell what my last three dinners were, but I don’t think it is enough to seek a diagnosis.

Of course, to paraphrase my dad, in the old days you could be 'painfully shy' or 'highly strung' or 'outspoken' or 'highly focused on practicing free kicks' without any need to be diagnosed as neurodivergent. Indeed, I think I have said before, I am pretty sure there is a whole space on the spectrum of neurodiversity called 'being a toddler'. DALC2, aged 10, is very clearly neurotypical to me, but likes Marmite on toast with no butter and will throw it across the room if she gets an inkling that you used the same knife that had butter on for DALC1. She is currently obsessed with The Love Affair of Ross Geller and Rachel Green. She can concentrate for hours on a craft project. Want to talk about mimicking? Try walking into her class this week and saying the word 'six' and the word 'seven' in the same sentence.

To be clear, I think a diagnosis is always a good thing; I’m not saying it isn’t. I don’t want to sound like one of those people who smokes because they knew a heavy smoker who lived to 90. But my first step is to decide whether DALC1 is over this threshold where I think it is worth getting a diagnosis. Also, no one has really told me the benefit of having one. I understand that she may get more stressed by specific stressors than someone who is neurotypical, but can’t I just be aware of that and help her cope with them, or avoid them as appropriate?

These are simply a collection of my thoughts, and I genuinely do welcome advice.

Some facts and identities have been altered in the above article