It is mid-morning, on a Tuesday, fairly sunny, and I have said “no” many times already:
No, I don’t want the radio on.
No, I don’t want my mum to come over later in the morning.
No, I don’t want anything from The Big Waitrose in Saxmundham.
No, I won’t be able to do the weekend that my friend has suggested.
And…no, I’m not overly negative, am I?
I am so lucky to have a fairly large degree of autonomy and be autistic at the same time: I work freelance, I live alone, I have a home that is peaceful and quiet, I have a dog who does what I tell her to (most of the time)…but every now and again, I have to venture out into the cruel, unforgiving neurotypical world and get jostled about a bit.
When this happens, I feel as though I am a rare breed removed from its natural habitat. I roll my shoulders inwards, tuck my chin in and brave the onslaught of noise, and the expectation that I am fundamentally like other people. I have various coping mechanisms, and various subconscious behavioural ticks that I deploy wildly in the face of this barrage from the real world. One of these strategies/mechanisms I cannot quite control, is saying no a lot.
I would normally describe myself as a positive person, and a large part of this is due to the fact that I have built up an environment that is beneficial to my autism. But (and this is a big but), interactions and experiences in the outside world can be profoundly negative. Is this me, or is this them, and is being autistic in a neurotypical world essentially a negative experience?
Partially, I admit, the source of my negativity is internal. Being autistic gives me a controlling side: when I can control my surroundings, I can essentially regulate my autism and therefore function better. I also have a deep-seated fear of change and unpredictability. Sometimes, when autism combines with adhd, the adhd can mitigate the rigidity of autism and introduce a little bit of impulsivity. But I am pretty sure that I do not have adhd, just autism, so…that’s me stuck with the rigidity, then.
Such a huge part of being autistic is the discrepancy between our inner experience and the outside world. Some autistic people are so disabled by their autism that their ability to interact with their environment is severely limited. Some autistic people are completely non-verbal. But even for an autie like me, who can mask speak most of the time, the overwhelming impression that the outside world is not built for us and can be…well, overwhelming.
Norms are not autistic norms. “Fun”, is often not fun for autistic people. I don’t drink alcohol or stay at social functions very long. I tend to avoid large groups of people, noisy environments, or any place where making a speedy exit is difficult. I don’t do things off the cuff, I don’t take a chance or step out of my comfort zone. Now, I know that this may make me sound like a Boring Barbara, and honestly reading it back to myself is a little depressing, but bear this in mind: being autistic involves having radically different needs to non-autistic people, and if those needs are not met, then I can become ill. If I pretend that I am neurotypical for too long, I go into autistic burnout and can’t do anything. I can’t sleep, eat, work or do the things that I enjoy. So yes, I say no an awful lot, but that negative response is partly because autistic-friendly options are not provided, so I just have to withdraw.
So, is being autistic an experience that automatically makes us come across as a bit negative? In many ways, yes. Sometimes, being autistic produces a fear, or masking response, whereby we say yes to everything so as not to risk appearing too different. But then, we often find that we can’t do what we have signed up for anyway, which somewhat negates our constant, desperate yeses. The truth is that we often have to say no to a lot of things. If we don’t, then we may not be able to follow through on our promises or commitments. On the other hand, if we do say yes too much, and somehow manage to make good, then the effort required in doing so may exhaust us. This is why learning to say no is a vital piece of education for a lot of autistic people.
I should add that, in spite of my earlier claim to hate unpredictability, there is a more practical strand to all of this: I am genuinely unpredictable due to my neurology, and this results in me saying no to things out of caution. Autism is a fluctuating condition: on a good day with few commitments, if I am in good health, I may be able to accomplish something. On a day where I am tired, stressed and overworked, I will not be able to. So many things we are asked to do are ahead of time, and my own lack of predictability of results in a negative response just to be on the safe side.
Having talked about differing norms between autistic and allistic people, nowhere is this more apparent than in the act of saying no. When an autistic person says no, they really and truly mean it. I personally don’t appreciate trying to be persuaded or cajoled into something, or it being assumed that I don’t know my own mind. One of the hardest lessons to learn as an autistic person is that people often don’t mean what they say – something of an anathema to us. When I say no, it is as definite as a full stop at the end of the sentence.
What are my tips for saying no?
- Start small. If you are afraid to say no to some big things, that’s ok – start with the little things.
- Use a firm yet friendly tone of voice.
- If saying no in person feels too much, then email or message a no, and add a brief but clear explanation.
- If you are saying no to one thing, can you offer an alternative?
- If you know that you are being asked to do something that you are incapable of, take the bull by the horns and say no straight away.
So, is all this negativity a negative thing? Sometimes, it can seem that way. Sometimes, it depresses me to always be the one bowing out, cancelling, or just saying no in the first place. But, on balance, saying no can actually be positive in so many ways. For an autistic person, it can be an expression of individuality and strength: it can show that we are not going to live our lives pandering to other people and their expectations. So much praise is given in neurotypical society for breaking boundaries, doing new things, taking on a lot and stepping outside our comfort zone. And that’s great, but it isn’t always great for autistic people. Refusing can be a sign that we know our own minds and respect our own needs. And when you look at it like that, saying no can be a great big yes.
