I might be alone in this aversion, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve grown to dread phone calls (depending on the person, of course). If I know the person well (e.g. they’re family or a significant other) then I don’t dread it, but if it’s in a professional setting it drives my anxiety all the way up. Part of my job is answering phone calls, and the person(s) on the other end of the line don’t tend to always be happy with what’s occurring. Being yelled at isn’t fun, as you could imagine.

I don’t think I dreaded phone calls until I started a customer facing job. I would call my grandma periodically and others. Now I prefer texting as my main form of communication almost all the time. A text can’t yell at you. I can read it at my own convenience and reread it if I have questions. Sometimes I miss what someone says and I have to ask them to repeat themselves. One adage that’s grown more popular in recent times is that tone and other factors are lost in a text or email. I am well aware of this issue, but I have a rebuttal to make (one I’ve not used yet as one of my coworkers frightens me with their possible reaction): if you explain what you mean with your message well enough then you mitigate the risk of someone going bananas in response to what you said. Hell, no one reads a Miss Marple book and assumes that murder is around the corner in every small town.

I am very well aware that a large part of my preference for written communication and not speech comes down to my sensory issues. The older I get, the more I prefer peace and quiet. I understand there are times when noise is necessary, and I have my coping mechanisms for when I get stuck in those situations. Trying to explain my sensitivity to sound to a neurotypical person is a tricky task. For them noise is merely slightly unpleasant or a minor inconvenience. For me it seems like the viscera of physical pain, and it has the ability to exhaust me.

The best recent example I’ve seen that illustrates this sensitivity to sound is Mick Jackson’s 2010 TV biopic on Temple Grandin. There were so many moments where I could relate to Temple’s situation or I could recall something similar I had experienced. It pained me to see how misunderstood and bullied she was by her peers and higher-ups. I have felt intense isolation and have experienced cruelty as well. I felt as though if I could articulate myself well enough then my tormentor(s) would leave me alone. It took me a long time to understand that some people are just miserable and want to make others miserable. Nowadays I’m much better at putting down boundaries with people and not letting jerks get to me, though I admit it’s a habit that’s taken a lot of time to develop.

I used to believe that my challenges were unique to me because of my disability. While people on the spectrum face a unique set of challenges for sure, people in general, though, suffer greatly for a wide variety of reasons. I didn’t take this reality as invalidating my struggles; in fact I was able to find more common ground with people than I expected. During the course of the movie, I had wished Temple could have found more friends who appreciated her for what she has to offer and show patience with her (for context her sole close friend aside from family is a young blind woman she gets as a roommate once her original roommates switches rooms).

I was very impressed with the ingenuity she demonstrated in making a machine that could soothe her via physical compression. As such, I also thought it ridiculous that she had to prove her machine could benefit others just to keep it in her own dorm room. People deeming her a pervert because she needed assistance in calming herself down upset me too. On top of that, the lack of interest people around her had in understanding why she was so different drove me up the wall. As frustrating as the experience of watching that all transpired was, though, it made me feel more validated in my frustrations as they related to both Temple’s life and my own.

I have to say that Temple Grandin is someone I’ve looked up to for quite a long time. I had originally read her books in high school and felt a certain kind of kinship with her, and this was before I had gotten my own diagnosis too. I could relate to the sensory experiences she talked about, and her “matter of fact” way of speaking soothed me as I read her writings. I am very grateful that Temple Grandin has done all the writing and advocacy work for the autistic community that she has. She’s given me not only a role model but also ways to better understand myself that I wouldn’t have had without her. 

Representation in the media for those with autism is very important because we, the Autism Spectrum Disorder community, need not only to see that our way of living is fine but for others to see that very same reality. We need to be given portrayals similar to Mick Jackson’s direction of Claire Dunes in the role of Temple: as the complex and holistic human beings we are. This is how minds change from harmful perspectives and how those hurt from said perspectives can heal from it all.