A lot of what you say about your childhood introversion and aversion to "normal" socializing resonates with me, another undiagnosed-but-likely-ASD kid. The eye contact thing has been a longtime struggle too-- I got feedback about it in peer evaluations at work into my thirties. (Old joke I learned in grad school: How do you know a mathematician is really interested in you? They look at *your* feet when they talk.)
Teenagerhood was quite different and much more genuinely lonely for me, which I think is probably largely a maleness (both biology and socialization) thing. I believed until college that I'd likely die alone and never-partnered, and later found out that my parents also had worried that would happen to me. I used to sing songs like "I Am a Rock" by Simon and Garfunkel unironically. Never went in the "incel" direction but might have been susceptible if not for good feminist parental socialization in childhood.
Two pieces of luck saved me socially. The first was a lifelong serious avocation, choral singing, which I owe to a few fabulous school music teachers and choir conductors. Being a choir kid meant there were always people I could nerd out with about a really engaging and complicated thing we were all doing together and not feel weird about the nerding out. To this day, choir parties are best parties, indeed the only kind of parties I consistently enjoy. It's nice too that they are typically gender balanced because a proper mixed choir usually has to be approximately 50/50.
The second lucky happenstance was meeting my now-wife in college and clicking with her very quickly: funnily enough, I met her because her roommate was one of my several hopeless unrequited choir crushes. Most of my social engagement since then ultimately traces back to one of those two sources, though work has helped a bit too.
My son, who is actually diagnosed ASD, is much less socially isolated than either of his parents were at his age. Lots of things help with this:
-- living in a walkable urban neighborhood makes all socializing easier
-- being a bookish computer nerd is many times more common, and much higher social status, in 2020s San Francisco than 1980s rural upstate NY
-- schools have gotten pretty good about the social-emotional learning thing, which is actually not a stalking horse for Marxism/CRT/Satan as you may have heard :) :) :), and bullying is much less common and severe than it was 30-40 years ago
-- our particular school's special ed team has been really good about providing our son a little extra support for learning social cues and norms without intruding on his sense of normality and inclusion
Who knows how his life will ultimately turn out, but for now we're happy to be able to help give him something we didn't have.
My loneliness story is too long and complicated to complete in one sitting. I think in some ways we had some of the same issues growing up: being rural, poor, and smart (and ambitious). These always made me stick out, and it didn't help at all that my parents moved every couple of years, due to their own chaotic lives. When we lived in Wyoming, I found some community in the Boy Scouts, as I was an avid outdoorsman, just like my father.
In middle school, Star Wars came out, and me and some other nerds created a science fiction club. Which was great, until my mom moved me in the middle of eight grade, where I was friendless. It didn't help that I am short, was of slight stature, didn't play any sports and was a year younger because I had skipped 2nd grade (big mistake looking back on it).
Unlike you, I started to find community in college. I went to a top research institution where being super academic was typical and caring about Dr. Who and D&D was normal. I still didn't really fit in though, as everyone else came from upper-middle class backgrounds and most had went to elite urban or suburban high schools. I was always the poor, unpolished, rowdy kid. But I had some friends.
Great prompt!
A lot of what you say about your childhood introversion and aversion to "normal" socializing resonates with me, another undiagnosed-but-likely-ASD kid. The eye contact thing has been a longtime struggle too-- I got feedback about it in peer evaluations at work into my thirties. (Old joke I learned in grad school: How do you know a mathematician is really interested in you? They look at *your* feet when they talk.)
Teenagerhood was quite different and much more genuinely lonely for me, which I think is probably largely a maleness (both biology and socialization) thing. I believed until college that I'd likely die alone and never-partnered, and later found out that my parents also had worried that would happen to me. I used to sing songs like "I Am a Rock" by Simon and Garfunkel unironically. Never went in the "incel" direction but might have been susceptible if not for good feminist parental socialization in childhood.
Two pieces of luck saved me socially. The first was a lifelong serious avocation, choral singing, which I owe to a few fabulous school music teachers and choir conductors. Being a choir kid meant there were always people I could nerd out with about a really engaging and complicated thing we were all doing together and not feel weird about the nerding out. To this day, choir parties are best parties, indeed the only kind of parties I consistently enjoy. It's nice too that they are typically gender balanced because a proper mixed choir usually has to be approximately 50/50.
The second lucky happenstance was meeting my now-wife in college and clicking with her very quickly: funnily enough, I met her because her roommate was one of my several hopeless unrequited choir crushes. Most of my social engagement since then ultimately traces back to one of those two sources, though work has helped a bit too.
My son, who is actually diagnosed ASD, is much less socially isolated than either of his parents were at his age. Lots of things help with this:
-- living in a walkable urban neighborhood makes all socializing easier
-- being a bookish computer nerd is many times more common, and much higher social status, in 2020s San Francisco than 1980s rural upstate NY
-- schools have gotten pretty good about the social-emotional learning thing, which is actually not a stalking horse for Marxism/CRT/Satan as you may have heard :) :) :), and bullying is much less common and severe than it was 30-40 years ago
-- our particular school's special ed team has been really good about providing our son a little extra support for learning social cues and norms without intruding on his sense of normality and inclusion
Who knows how his life will ultimately turn out, but for now we're happy to be able to help give him something we didn't have.
My loneliness story is too long and complicated to complete in one sitting. I think in some ways we had some of the same issues growing up: being rural, poor, and smart (and ambitious). These always made me stick out, and it didn't help at all that my parents moved every couple of years, due to their own chaotic lives. When we lived in Wyoming, I found some community in the Boy Scouts, as I was an avid outdoorsman, just like my father.
In middle school, Star Wars came out, and me and some other nerds created a science fiction club. Which was great, until my mom moved me in the middle of eight grade, where I was friendless. It didn't help that I am short, was of slight stature, didn't play any sports and was a year younger because I had skipped 2nd grade (big mistake looking back on it).
Unlike you, I started to find community in college. I went to a top research institution where being super academic was typical and caring about Dr. Who and D&D was normal. I still didn't really fit in though, as everyone else came from upper-middle class backgrounds and most had went to elite urban or suburban high schools. I was always the poor, unpolished, rowdy kid. But I had some friends.
More later.
♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
Saving this to re-read!!