“When I was a little girl, I was fond of retreating to small spaces. My earliest extensive memory was hiding in a closet in my bedroom. I was probably about two or three. The small space felt safe from the commotion in the home. The darkness was welcome and offered my senses respite. Sometimes it was underneath the clothed table. Sometimes it was in the nook between two large pieces of furniture. Once or twice it was even a cabinet or crawl space. Behind drapes and curtains. Very young, I needed solitude and concealment. But when I wasn't in hiding, I was outdoors as much as I was allowed. I wanted to be in nature. The grass, flowers, and trees in the yard were my secret garden. I carved nonsense into the wood fence, messages for the rest of the world to find. In my mind they said things like "Don't step on the caterpillars" and "If you would like a flower crown, knock twice." I had a love for water in any form. I outgrew my plastic kiddie pool sooner than I would have liked. I even enjoyed being out in the snow back then. As I began to learn about living creatures, I became rapidly concerned with various forms of life. I wondered if the ants and the birds were unhappy when it rained. I had already known what unhappy people were like, and it worried me to think that sadness was not just in people, but all around. Soon it did more than worry me, and I began to feel sadness that wasn’t mine. The emotions of others took over me, and that is when I began to give care.”
There is a common misconception that people with Autism lack empathy, but for some of us on the spectrum, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Autistic or not, we all have varying degrees of cognitive empathy and affective empathy. Cognitive empathy is understanding how someone is feeling and seeing things from their point of view. Affective empathy is actively feeling the emotions of others. Research is starting to show us now that some people with Autism have significant levels of affective empathy, even if they have lower levels of cognitive empathy. Not only that, but individuals on the Autism spectrum with high affective empathy may also experience various forms of impairment due to the way they process stimuli. Those of us on the Autism spectrum simply do not process information in the same way people with neurotypical brains do. Compared to someone who is neurotypical, we experience significant hypersensitivity/over-responsiveness and/or hyposensitivity/under-responsiveness to external stimuli. Because of this, it’s not wise to assume what an individual with Autism is or isn’t feeling, and a struggle to show or express what they are feeling is not the same thing as a lack of feeling. When I process information, I almost always present calm. If I had a nickel for every time someone thought I didn’t care… I’m often so paralyzed by processing emotion that I am shut down partially, if not entirely.
My high affective empathy is what drives my desire to impact the well-being of humanity as a whole. It is what aligns me with my purpose and work, but this trait is a double-edged sword and difficult to navigate in life. It has stopped me dead in my tracks when it comes time to interact with any single person out of fear of not being able to stop myself from taking on everything they feel in real time, as they feel it. I will often intentionally keep myself at a distance from most people as a means of protection. And I will literally hide in small spaces although I am no longer a child. Simultaneously, I have chosen to hone my high affective empathy into a productive force with great intention to meet young children where they are. Day in and day out, I offer them respect, trust, compassion, and patience. I let myself feel what they are feeling as I show them what acceptance and regulation of emotion looks like. I know that doing this with them is a key factor in the development of healthy attachment and resilience and I know that in our children exists the greatest potential in this world. Because of this I am more than happy to brave all of their big emotions.