Navigating queer spaces as an undiagnosed autistic person made me question if something about me might not be right, especially in my early twenties. The fact that my friends all seemed to be treating hooking up like an Olympic sport, while I was spending weeks figuring out if that one person at the end of the bar was actually looking at me. Sometimes I made use of friends to translate a glance across a crowded place, they seemed to know ‘he is totally into you’. What they were seeing just translated to complete static for me.
I learned to accept and work with the fact that communication is not this universal tool and that explicit, unmasked clarity feels like the ultimate safety (this fact works both ways, make no mistake). This is where hookup and dating apps have provided much clearer angles to sex and romance, which weren’t there before the age of Android and iPhones. On the other hand, I understand now that I have a kind of ‘Neurodar’ instead. I can tell if someone is neurodivergent by their interaction – if they jump into a deep topic with me and skip the small talk. And that kind of directness feels a lot more comfortable.
To read the full personal history of how I found an underground sanctuary governed by clear, predictable frameworks during this exact era, I plan on posting my essay in October Red Jasper : Why the Escort Scene Attracted My Undiagnosed Mind.