Note: I’ve elected to start with discussing some aspects of the criteria for diagnosis in the DSM-5, out of convenience, before branching out to less medicalized/deficit-based facets of the conversation. Please don’t take this to mean that I think the DSM criteria are the most accurate or complete explanation of the autistic experience, nor is this a complete discussion of those criteria.
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You may have heard that many autistic people struggle with making eye contact. Criterion A-2 in the DSM criteria for autism spectrum disorder refers to “deficits in nonverbal communicative behaviors used for social interaction,” which is where eye contact is covered.
I do make eye contact… sort of. Typically, I look at people’s mouths when they’re speaking to help me follow what they’re saying.1 I have been accused (on occasion) of staring and making people uncomfortable, though, which is perhaps a sign that the whole eye contact thing doesn’t come naturally to me.
I do tend to feel more comfortable if I’m not making eye contact with the person I’m talking to, but I often feel like I’m supposed to be. Like I won’t be taken seriously or perceived to take seriously whatever is being said to me if I’m looking elsewhere. This makes car rides a more comfortable time to have conversations.2 (Assuming I’m not the one driving… driving is a relative challenge for me and I prefer not to do much conversing at the same time.)
But this criterion isn’t just about eye contact. It’s about a disconnect that affects the interpretation and presentation of all nonverbal elements of communication.
I can really struggle with identifying what other people are thinking and feeling if they don’t tell me. My default assumption, almost across the board, is that they are mad at me. Sometimes I have a rationale for that assumption, sometimes I don’t. But the reality is that most people are probably not mad at me most of the time. I just don’t know what they are feeling, and that’s the easiest way to fill in that blank.
This can lead to an assortment of behaviours, depending on how it hits me. Sometimes I fawn,3 sometimes I get belligerent.4 Sometimes I experience rejection sensitivity5 over a rejection that hasn’t even happened.
I do do okay on those tests where you see a picture and have to guess what the person is feeling. Not perfect, but not abysmal. I think I’ve been around long enough to identify a deliberately portrayed emotion. I can more or less follow what’s going on emotionally in a movie or TV show, too. But as far as real-time interpretation of emotions that aren’t being explicitly expressed, I’m often a bit at sea.
As for my own body language, I think a lot about it an awful lot when I’m talking to someone. I consciously try to present the correct emotion for the situation. If I don’t pay enough attention to it, I can I sometimes give the impression that I’m angry or upset when I feel perfectly neutral.
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1 A side issue here may be some difficulty with auditory processing. I definitely use this not-exactly-lip-reading to help make sense of the words when people speak, something I didn’t notice until the beginning of mask season in 2020. In a moderately busy restaurant, I may truly struggle just to follow a conversation. Best course of action is always to make sure my attention is focussed on you before you start trying to tell me anything, or I’m likely to ask you to repeat yourself. Or just pretend I heard you and smile, depending on how tired/stressed I am.
2 Most of the time. Sometimes, particularly if I’m stressed in other ways, being in a moving car can present sensory difficulties that lead to panic and potentially even meltdowns. It doesn’t happen a lot, but it happens.
3 This is the people-pleasing response. As an alternative to “fight or flight,” you get “fawn or freeze.”
4 That would be the “fight.” “How dare they be mad at me when I haven’t even done anything?! Fine, if they’re going to be that way, I’ll be mad at them too!”
5 Rejection sensitivity is an out-of-proportion negative response to a real or perceived rejection (think: you invite someone to make a specific plan, they say no, and it feels like they hate you and never want anything to do with you). It’s a pretty common experience for neurodivergent people.
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- AUTISM IN MY LIFE
- SOCIAL-EMOTIONAL RECIPROCITY
- NONVERBAL COMMUNICATIVE BEHAVIOURS ← you are here!
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