My name is Andy Mullen, I’m 52 years old, I have worked at Northumbria University for nearly 20 years and I teach International Relations and Politics in the Department of Social Sciences.
Being Prompted
In the spring of 2023 I watched the excellent TV documentary series, ‘Inside Our Autistic Minds’ (by Chris Packham on the BBC), which I then discussed with a member of my immediate family. During the course of this conversation, it was suggested that I might be autistic. My response to this prompt – which, looking back, was typically autistic – was to take this suggestion literally (i.e. as a statement of fact rather than just a possibility). I immediately logged on to the web to find out what autism is and how it manifests itself. Perhaps not surprisingly, given my age and given the fact that I had gone through so much of my life without knowing, I experienced this prompting, and the subsequent realization, as a huge psychological shock, indeed a revelation, and one which sparked over a year of intense introspection. My mind seemed to enter the stratosphere as it learnt what autism is; applied this knowledge to my current state of mind; re-evaluated all my memories in light of this new knowledge; and worked out who else in the family was likely affected.
At this point, you may well be asking yourself: Why did you not realise? And why did nobody around you notice? The answers to these questions, I suggest, are instructive:
- Before 2023, and like many other people in society, I did not fully understand what autism is; I was therefore unable to apply any such knowledge to my own behaviour and thinking patterns.
- I now realise that I am very good at masking/mirroring (i.e. unconsciously copying other people’s mannerisms, speech patterns, etc. so as to fit in with my social surroundings). Consequently, I was not able to even notice, never mind identify, my autistic traits. I was like a chameleon that hadn’t realised it’s a chameleon!
- Given that I am adept at masking/mirroring, no one around me noticed that I am autistic. Some people are visibly so because they have ‘meltdowns’ (i.e. feelings of over-stimulation/overwhelm); wear noise-cancelling headphones to reduce sensory overwhelm; and/or visibly ‘stim’ (i.e. self-stimulation, such as hand-flapping or rocking from side to side, in an attempt to reduce anxiety and better cope in stressful situations). I do none of these things in an obvious way (i.e. my stimming is subtle) and so my autistic traits were easily missed.
- My autism has not prevented me from succeeding professionally, which created the misimpression, both for me and those around me, that I was neurotypical. (An estimated 15% of the population experience some form of neurodivergence, including about 2% who are autistic, leaving the rest of society to be described and labelled as neurotypical).
In sum, my autism mainly occurs in the privacy of my mind – historically in the form of chronic and persistent anxiety and over-thinking (i.e. often unconscious scripting/rehearsing and scenario-planning before social interactions and postmortems afterwards; for me, over-thinking accompanies all social interactions, including those at work [e.g. staff team meetings, teaching, etc.] as well as those in my private life) – and so it was not easily observable. Consequently, because of my lack of awareness, knowledge and understanding of autism, compounded by my masking/mirroring, my condition was invisible to me just as it was invisible to everyone else.
Diagnosis
Following the revelation, I amassed as much information about autism and neurodivergence as I could. Indeed, it has become one of my new intense interests/ obsessions. I used this knowledge to diagnose myself, preparing a 6-page document using the NHS criteria (i.e. social communication/social interaction challenges which can generate intense anxiety and over-thinking; repetitive and restrictive behaviours; sensory issues; and hyper-focus and intense interests/obsessions). I then joined the long list of those awaiting an official diagnosis. I decided to undergo a formal psychological assessment for two main reasons. Firstly, to quell my anxiety about whether I had diagnosed myself correctly (I was 99% sure but still had nagging doubts) and whether I had missed any co-occurring conditions (such as attention deficit and hyperactivity). Secondly, I saw it as an opportunity to raise awareness of autism within my immediate family and my other relatives. Given that autism and other forms of neurodivergence are understood to be predominantly genetic, it is never going to be the case that just one person in a family is autistic/neurodivergent. An individual’s diagnosis thus raises important questions about who else in the family might be autistic/neurodivergent (such as siblings, one or both of the parents [as the source of the autism/neurodivergence]; one or both of the grandparents [again, as the source]; aunties/uncles; cousins and so on). This made the whole process that much more difficult and challenging. The process was not just life-changing for me because it had/has profound implications for my immediate and wider family. In other words, I realized that I was never going to be the only one with autism/neurodivergence (which has proved to be the case) and thus it became a collective rather than individual issue. (As an aside, most of the resources about autism/neurodivergence are aimed at supporting the individual in question rather than addressing this collective aspect – surely a gap that needs to be addressed at some point…).
Coming to Terms with Autism and Coming Out
I appreciate that not everyone experiences being prompted, and the subsequent revelation/diagnosis, as a positive thing. For me, however, it has been life-changing and overwhelmingly positive. I now understand (which I like to point out to others) that I did not become a university lecturer and a published author in spite of my autism but, in large part, because I am autistic. To give a concrete example, I have never formally studied politics but I am obsessed with it; my autism thus gave me the drive and energy to teach myself politics, independently and in my own time, to the point where I can teach it at university level. I am thus paid to research and teach my obsession, making me a very fortunate autistic person indeed! Despite the challenges that I face as an autistic person, I believe that, on balance, my autism has made a positive contribution to my life. Indeed, I have found learning about autism, and applying that knowledge to myself, to be a liberating experience. For the first time in my life, I no longer feel ‘odd’, ‘disconnected’ or lonely because I’m now aware that there are millions of others around the world who experience life just like me. Put simply, I now make sense and my life makes sense (to me and to others). Moreover, self-knowledge is power; I now feel better able to cope with the challenging aspects of my autism.
Following my official diagnosis, Northumbria University was informed of my autistic status and I am now protected under the 2010 Equality Act as a disabled person. I don’t personally feel disabled – not least because, over the past few decades, my mind has worked out ways to cope with all the duties that are expected of me as a university lecturer – but I do acknowledge that my autism can be disabling in certain situations (although, thanks to meditation and mindfulness, I am making huge progress when faced with these situations). Nevertheless, I was invited by my line manager and other colleagues to consider making some ‘reasonable requests’ under the 2010 Equality Act, which I duly did. My requests were granted, in full and without hesitation, which makes me realise how fortunate I am to work amongst such caring and considerate colleagues in the Department of Social Sciences. I am aware, however, of other neurodivergent staff at Northumbria University whose experiences have not been so positive. This highlights one of the weaknesses within the legislation: the pivotal role of line managers who, by virtue of their gatekeeper status, can determine whether or not a neurodivergent member of staff is granted their ‘reasonable requests’ and support more generally. The need for in-depth awareness training on neurodivergence for line managers, together with clear procedures (including an independent review system when requests have been denied) are both necessary and urgent.
Thirty-odd years ago, I went through a similar life-changing process regarding my sexual orientation. I decided, from that point onwards, that I would come out as a gay man to my family, friends, colleagues and, for several years now, my students. For me, being public about being gay constituted a political act and one that has contributed, albeit in a very small way, to shifting societal attitudes over time. With that in mind, I recently decided that I would come out as autistic to family, friends, colleagues and my students, and for the same political reasons; if I want society to be knowledgeable and inclusive of autistic and neurodivergent people, then I feel compelled to be visible, to confront people with the reality of our experiences – both the challenges and our strengths – and, in the process, demonstrate that autism/ neurodivergence is nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of. For me, the imperative was clear and I shall continue to be public about my autism.
Self-Care
Knowledge of my autism, self-acceptance and developing a balanced and positive perspective (i.e. appreciating both the challenges and the strengths of my condition) has enabled me to take better care of myself. I am now able to understand what situations and tasks I am likely to find difficult, stressful and triggering (in terms of anxiety and over-thinking). I am also aware of the many advantages that my autism brings. Furthermore, the power of such self-knowledge has been amplified by my recent discovery of the wonders of meditation and mindfulness. I am now using these tools to reduce my overall levels of anxiety and over-thinking, plus my long-standing negative/self-critical mindset. Indeed, comparing the situation now with that before 2023 is like the difference between night and day.
Onwards and upwards.
Andy Mullen (6 October 2024)
