Twirling Naked in the Streets and No One Noticed; Growing Up With Undiagnosed Autism by Jeannie Davide-Rivera

Author:Jeannie Davide-Rivera [Davide-Rivera, Jeannie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Published: 2013-04-09T04:30:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The Dangers of the Teenaged Autistic Girl and Her First Loves: Mind-Blindness

First loves, obsessions, passions, special interests, call it whatever you want, they can captivate and completely blind any young teenage girl’s mind. Girls are swept away in the idea of first love, the knight in shining armor, and forever after. This is a glorious time of love, learning to love, loss and pain; the time that mothers worry about their daughters, and fathers buy shot-guns.

Some girls caught up in the sweeping whirlwind of first love do not see the signs of the impending crash at the end of the road. They love idealistically, but after the hurt and broken bones heal they learn to take another look to watch for the road signs. Autistic girls not only do not see the signs, but they don’t see them the next time they are headed into the same brick wall either.

It happened over and over again, I missed the signs. I didn’t see them coming. I was left blindsided, alone and confused. I didn’t see the warnings; I didn’t see the road posts; I barreled down love’s highway at top speed with no breaks—every time.

I don’t get “hints”, I need direct language. Subtleties are lost on me. If you are not completely direct, and tell me something is wrong with the relationship, I will assume all is well. If all is well with me, then all is well with you. If it were not, you would have directly said something, wouldn’t you? If something I did bothered you, or I did something wrong, you wouldn’t pretend everything was fine, would you? I wouldn’t.

I always assumed that I understood people. I prided myself in being honest, upfront, and direct, assuming that everyone else around me behaved in the same manner. If you were in my life that meant I trusted you, and if I trusted you, I believed you. It was as simple as that.

I was just fourteen and attracted the attention of a boy older than I was. Smart, handsome, cool, and he could dance, what more did I need? The problem was he had a girlfriend; at least, it should have been a problem. Since his girlfriend was eighteen, and I was only fourteen, I was honored that he would come to my house when she was at work and that he hung out with me during my days at the candy store. After all, he was just trying to figure out a way to break up with her gently—for six months.

I began to obsess about him, seeing him whenever I could even if just for a few minutes sitting on my front porch in the night. It may have continued on forever, me waiting and believing, if someone else didn’t walk into my life and wipe him off the map. That is the way it worked with me. I didn’t hide it, “Sorry, I met someone else; now, go away.”

I never thought to be deceitful or even gentle for that matter.

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