Normal “success,” internalized.

Social Conditioning

My parents (and teachers) expected, and pressured, me to succeed at a high level in the world of business or in a profession. I adopted that goal as a child. As a teen I was already drifting away from it, and by twenty (in 1965) I had completely abandoned any desire to succeed in the corporate world. Only a weak desire to pursue a profession remained. Instead, my goal was to build a sailboat, sail around the world, and then build a log home in the country where I would live happily ever after with the girl I would meet whilst sailing :) This change of plans came about because I had become very uncomfortable trying to fit into “normal” society and so wanted an alternative.

(btw, I met the girl before setting sail, and went straight to building the house in the country where we are still living happily thirty-four years later, and vicariously enjoying the adventures of our four adult kids and two grandkids).

Deeply ingrained “norm”

Nevertheless, that deeply programmed goal to be a success by “normal” standards kept nagging me in the back of my mind all the time. This meant that even if what I did was a spectacular success (such as designing and building my house,  or publishing my Master’s thesis, or getting my paintings into art galleries), deep down I was still a failure in my own eyes. That nagging voice would tell me, “yes, but it isn’t at all like being a corporate CEO is it?”

My “abnormal” successes were devalued

I felt a failure because what I saw as my “own” success wasn’t really on the radar of “successful normal people” (who value making a lot of money and living in a mansion, becoming CEO of a bank, or being elected to public office, etc..) In fact, it seems that many neurotypical folk consider what I did as beneath their understanding and rather trivial. They don’t see the point. Neither did my own internal nagging voice, which kept reminding me that I didn’t make the grade.

Praise for my “normal” successes did not satisfy me

There were times when my job performance garnered much praise from employers. But these “rewards” were not truly satisfying to me because they were not directed at the real me, but rather at the actor whom I had become in order to try to “fit” in mainstream society. In short time I would tire of the sell-out of my soul, and I would run out of energy, and leave the position to go in search of the real me.

Using my autistic gifts

In designing/building, painting, and publishing, I was utilizing my own creative and intellectual talents. I may well not have had many of these talents if I weren’t Aspie/autie. So my very nature, autistic, seemed to me to be devalued by mainstream society. And hence I felt devalued also.

The exclusion of autism

And my other aspects of being autistic, such as being uncomfortable in groups, missing nonverbal cues, being repelled by bright lights and noise, needing time to think through a response, etc., — well, these cause me to  avoid mainstream society, and seem to cause mainstreamers to think I’m weird  and ought to be excluded in some way, or ignored.

Wanting to be accepted

So I wanted to be accepted, but the only standard I knew was that of mainstream, neurotypical society. And so I felt that I was a “failure” because I didn’t fit in there. I didn’t know that there were good reason for that. But now I understand why…

Coming home

Since realizing my Aspieness last year at
age sixty-five, I am rapidly weaning myself away from caring at all
about being “successful” in the eyes of normal society.

Now that I understand my Aspie/autie nature, I have finally found reason to give that nagging voice, which all these years accused me of failing because I wasn’t a CEO, a very swift boot  out the back door of my mind.

Freedom

I will live what’s left of my life on my own terms.*
And I will judge my success by my own internal standards –
did I design a good house? Yes. Then, YAY for ME!! :)

And YAY! for all of us beautiful Aspie/auties!

And YAY! for each of our accomplishments, whether large or small. We can be proud of them all! :)

……………………………………………………………….

*Being retired means I don’t have to cope with the workplace, or seek employment, or try to fit in with my fellow students, or find a life partner, or meet with school officials, or any of the other challenges facing younger people. So it’s a lot easier for me to say I’m not going to concern myself with what “they” think. But I would hope, if I had my life to live over, that I would really be a lot less concerned than I was! And that I would let my gifts lead me on the best path for me. I think I would have a much better chance of being true to myself now that I am aware of my Asperger’s/autism.

…………………………………………………………………..

This post was inspired by thoughty autie’s posts, “On being myself” and “Unfixing”, and by Laura’s post, “You are the first one to hear what you say.” and by Grayson’s post, “Breakthrough,” and by the comments on those posts, and by many, many other posts/comments I have read over the past eleven months as well. My “Thanks” to all of you!  :)

……………………………………………………………………..

Edit: This post was revised on July 28, 2011.

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14 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Aspergirl Maybe
    Jul 25, 2011 @ 13:16:10

    So glad you have come to this place in your life! I know that my husband has felt that way a lot (he has dyscalculia) and it definitely affects his life.

    Reply

    • Bruce (born 2b me)
      Jul 25, 2011 @ 15:34:55

      Hi AM,

      I can imagine that discalculia would create some challenges in self-acceptance, just as my undiagnosed Asperger’s/autism did for me.

      This “place” in my life is still a work in progress rather than a done deal. But I am glad to have come to this liberating understanding. I’ll need much more practice until I can do it consistently without fail. I am grateful to my fellow bloggers who gave me a name (autistic) for who I am, and taught me to recognize and accept my uniqueness.

      But being retired means I don’t have to cope with the workplace or seek employment or try to fit in with my fellow students or find a life partner or meet with school officials or any of the other challenges facing younger people. So it’s a lot easier for me to say I’m not going to concern myself with what “they” think. But I would hope, if I had my life to live over, that I would really be a lot less concerned than I was! :)

      Blessings,
      Bruce

      Reply

  2. Sue
    Jul 29, 2011 @ 23:34:42

    Bruce,
    I love this post more than you could ever know! I have always told both of my children that as long as they are happy and able to pay their bills that is success. We have relatives who try to discourage our children from pursuing artistic careers. I strongly disagree with this. I believe life is too short to be in a job that you do not love. I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

    Reply

    • Bruce (born 2b me)
      Jul 30, 2011 @ 00:28:53

      Hello Sue,

      “… life is too short to be in a job that you do not love.”
      Your words brought tears to my eyes. You speak great wisdom here.
      Your children are so blessed, in so many ways, to have you for their Mom.

      It’s good to hear this post spoke to you, Sue. Thanks for letting me know.
      Blessings to you and your loved ones,
      Bruce

      Reply

  3. Sue
    Jul 30, 2011 @ 20:09:36

    Bruce,
    Thank you! Blessings to you and yours too!

    Reply

  4. bbsmum
    Jul 31, 2011 @ 07:36:08

    I wonder if those who seek conventional success ever feel that they’ve achieved it? Do they always strive for more, bigger, better…? Do CEOs fret that they’re not CEO of a bigger company? Probably. But designing/building a house, well, that seems like an achievement that can’t be beaten. And you haven’t exploited anyone in attaining it, unlike your average CEO.

    Reply

  5. Angel
    Aug 18, 2011 @ 08:12:05

    Bruce,

    I have read this a couple of times now and wanted to respond but I cannot seem to get the right words out. I will say I think this is a great post and I am so happy for your freedom and acceptance for yourself. I am working on mine, I’ve got to deal with several years of muck first though. :-)

    Thank you so much for sharing and being such an inspiration!

    Blessings to you!
    Angel

    Reply

    • Bruce (born 2b me)
      Aug 20, 2011 @ 21:25:46

      Hi Angel,

      I have been having so much trouble getting words out lately. Hence the lack of posts here on this blog and the scarcity of comments on my friends’ blogs. There is a post on your blog that has been looping in my mind for a while and I hope to get to it soon.

      The freedom and acceptance is a work in progress with lots of setbacks! But it is a new and enjoyable place to be when I can pull it off.

      I wonder what to do about my several years of muck. Sometimes I think I should just leave it buried and focus on the blessings I have in my life now. I know that when I do focus on the blessings, I feel so much happier than when I dredge up the muck! So since life is short, especially at my age, I am inclined to do what leads to the most fun right now. :)

      But I do see the merit in writing out my history as you are doing and as I might do some day. I think it would be good to document it for my kids, as it would help them to understand things better. And the process would help me to see the whole of my life better. So I may post it over time on this blog.

      My challenge right now is to get myself writing again. So thank you very much for commenting. You gave me the incentive to write a reply and it feels good to be writing again!

      Blessings to you Angel, and to your family too,
      Bruce :)

      Reply

  6. thoughty autie
    Aug 18, 2011 @ 19:02:40

    “In short time I would tire of the sell-out of my soul, and I would run out of energy…”

    I love that phrase – “the sell-out of my soul.”

    And I love this post. I have struggled a lot with thoughts of being a failure. Despite the promise everyone assumed I had because of my intelligence, I “failed” at being a college student the first time around, and I “failed” more than once at living independently. Now that I know the reason for those “failures,” I understand that they weren’t failures at all, but inevitabilities.

    When I was diagnosed, my psychologist told me that growing up diagnosed with autism could be compared to running a marathon with prosthetic legs: you don’t have the same equipment as everyone else, but you have something to stand on and you receive training on how to use your new legs. You get to practice in smaller races, and if you fall down, your trainers help you back up and walk with you for a while. She said that growing up without a diagnosis is like running a marathon with no legs at all. You have to reach for something to stand on, and you have to be your own trainer. It’s harder for us, and it’s no wonder we often don’t follow the paths people (including ourselves) assume we will follow. We can pull ourselves along by our arms for a while, but it takes so much energy that we just can’t keep it up. So we “fail” from time to time. We sit on the side of the road while the other runners pass us by, or we drop out of the race entirely. And then we berate ourselves for being lazy when the reality is that we have probably expended more energy over the course of a mile than many other runners expend over the course of the entire marathon.

    I’m glad you realized fairly early on that that wasn’t a race you even wanted to run. Even if you felt like a failure some of the time, you were still running your own race and that is a success in itself.

    Reply

    • Bruce (born 2b me)
      Aug 20, 2011 @ 22:39:13

      Hi thoughty autie,

      Wow! The analogy of running the race with no legs really described how it felt for me at times.

      I did realize that the expected race for me was not the one I wanted to run. I made a serious attempt at a career in art, but the demands of supporting a family drove me into social work, the only career in this rural area that could utilize my university education.

      I certainly expended more energy than my colleagues when I was in social work for ten years (with ten months off in the middle). That stint resulted in a diagnosis of ME/CFS at age forty-eight, and “total disability.” It is not wise to try to keep up with runners when one is on one’s arms! I still can’t believe I did social work for so long. I would hope that, had I known of my Asperger’s, I would not have persisted in such an ill suited occupation. My doctor tried to get me to consider changing careers to art or truck driving. She seemed to intuitively understand my need for greater solitude.

      I can really relate to what you said about how we “berate ourselves for being lazy.” Your comment helps me to feel better about myself, indeed I would say, “good about myself.” I often had to “drop out” of the race and you have helped me to accept that as something I needn’t feel bad about. So thank you!

      And I too “failed” at my first time around in college. Then I went on to publish my Master’s thesis and followed that with “failing” to go on to the PhD, which was the expectation of everyone around me. But I must have realized that wasn’t a race I wanted to run.

      With the exception of social work, I think I did fairly well at recognizing the races that I fit, or did not fit, so thank you for describing “running my own race” as a success in itself. I am gradually learning to think of my life as a success – a novel experience for me!

      Reply

  7. Robert Hickman
    Aug 22, 2011 @ 13:28:49

    Love this post, I, too see little value in the traditional perceptions of success, placing little value in things like money, physical possessions or social status. Like you I’m happy simply to do things I find interesting.

    Reply

    • Bruce (born 2b me)
      Aug 27, 2011 @ 00:37:11

      Hello Robert, thanks for your comment. I am glad you like the post. I think it is really important to pursue our own interests and create our own success.

      I am sorry your comment didn’t get posted sooner, Robert. I just discovered it in my Spam folder five days after you sent it. I usually don’t check my spam folder because there is seldom anything in it. I have no idea why your comment was put there. Hopefully now that it has been approved that won’t happen again.

      Reply

  8. Trackback: Just a note: Previous post revised with additions « Born 2b me

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