Autistic Joy:
Neuro-Diverse Experiences of Emotions
Autistic Joy
It’s not entirely clear to me how Autism changes the way we experience emotions. Some people on the spectrum have a hard time intuiting other people’s emotions, others are more empathetic than neurotypicals. Some have a hard time identifying sensations in the body like the ones associated with movement, hunger, pain, or emotions. I’ve always been deeply aware of my body - and while I consider this a part of neuro-diversity, I know it’s not a generalizable trait.
Neuro-diversity means that we are more prone to traumatic responses, more likely to pick up on or be affected by subtle cues in conversation and interaction. And so I began to wonder - does being prone to hurt mean we are also prone to happiness? I’m a big believer in balance, so I wanted to be right about the possibility of Autistic Joy. I wanted evidence to support my belief that the warmth is always just as intense as the cold. Every one of us feels and expresses emotions differently, so I’m not sure that this is the kind of theory that can ever be fully proved.
However, I want to change the narrative about being Autistic. Already we’re beginning to move away from diagnosis-based and restrictive ways of thinking. There are beautiful and fantastic things about being Autistic; There must be, since so many of us are happy to be on the spectrum. Historically, Autism has been defined according to the issues it creates for the undiagnosed (neuro-typicals, care-takers, or people that simply never considered they have their own neuro-diverse traits). I want to offer my support in re-shaping that definition according to the actual, lived experience of Autism - one that includes the hard parts, and the parts that make the hard parts worth it. And I want to do this despite how awkward it can feel exploring the strengths and joys of being me, despite how self-aggrandizing it might come off as.
“Autism can be reduced to trauma so much, and it’s dangerous. It’s what makes parents talk of ‘losing’ their child when they’re diagnosed with autism. It’s what makes people want to search for a ‘cure’ for autism or find parenting strategies that reduce the chance of being diagnosed.” (Meg Hopkins, The Oxford Blue - The 1%: Autistic Joy).
I consider it extremely important and valuable, even spiritual, to delve into the hard topics, the dark topics, the things we avoid thinking about, and bring them to the raw surface. But I do not want to become complicit in stories without happy moments - something that feels harder everyday as I learn more and more about the realities of the world.
What Autistic Joy Is:
Autistic Joy is described as:
Sensory joy: whole-body satisfaction when a vivid color or soft texture is discovered
Intense excitement over special interests, info-dumping, or new sparks of curiosity and interest and fixation
Flow state, time disappearing during a conversation or activity, or even simple reflection
Meditative or profound appreciation for small sources of delight
Difficulty pulling away from a thought, an activity, or conversation because the world has faded into the background and become mundane in comparison
Preoccupation with small details that are often easy to miss or disregard but create a sense of elation - like the way light looks coming in through leaves or blinds.
Intense expressions of joy including crying, stimming, dancing, jumping, shaking, shouting, etc. “We DO Joy” (Autistic Empath: Autistic Joy).
Happiness in being unmasked; Feeling hard-won acceptance and belonging and authenticity; Letting go of fears and habits meant to disguise autistic traits and needs
Positive feelings which persist longer than expected, that remain intense and distracting even after the trigger has faded, or an urge to hold onto the feeling for as long as possible, to keep returning to the memory of it.
Excessive repetition of a song, show, movie, book, phrase, etc. in order to relive the emotions it brings on, a delayed desensitization
Whole body tingles, shivers, buzzing, warmth, lightness, etc.
Autistic Joy is a topic that sheds light on ways neuro-diversity can be rewarding and valuable. It allows us to explore how letting down our walls and stepping out of gate-keeping can open us up to profound positive experiences - like the way joy can spread from one person to another when we allow ourselves to experience it without questioning or restraining it. People on the spectrum experience everything on a greater spectrum of intensity: joy can be just as intense as a meltdown.
Autistic Joy often looks strange or unnerving - it can get a lot of negative reactions. Negative reactions which are then internalized and can contribute to low self-esteem or the belief that emotions should not be expressed or appreciated or shared. In a world where everyone keeps their feelings close to the chest it’s hard to find space for authentic expression and validation.
“sometimes being autistic in this world means walking through a crowd of silently miserable people and holding your happiness like a secret” Julia Bascom in The Obsessive Joy of Autism
What Autistic Joy is Like For Me
During my recent research about Autistic Joy I recalled moments of intense emotion that I have learned through experience not to expect others to understand or emulate. I thought I could describe these things here to help communicate what Autistic Joy is and how it might be different from what most people experience:
When I was a child I would dance whenever I heard music. The happier I was the more dramatic my dancing. I did this incessantly in public, standing on curbs and benches and imagining myself on a stage. I would perform and lip-sync, showing off that I knew all the words. It never occurred to me to be embarrassed, even as a pre-teen and I was self-conscious about so much else. Even when it was clear to me that people around me were embarrassed for me, all I could think was ‘Why do they care? I’m having fun and I’m happy, surely that’s more important than embarrassment?’ Even now I have a hard time thinking of negative feelings as important when they occur at the same time as positive ones.
As a teenager, and still today, I would feel deep and intense connections to music. A song, new or old, can trigger strong endorphin rushes in me so I can listen to it over and over and get that feeling again and again. I’m always listening to music on repeat - wanting every drop of good feeling that I can get from it. I once listened to Celebrity Status by Marians Trench for two weeks, and no other song. As a teendager I always wanted to share this buoyed and warm feeling so I would share my songs all the time. I couldn’t understand why people got annoyed with it.
When I’m in the middle of a very good book I become giddy and excited. The whole world feels vivid and bright. Even though I’m only half present, always thinking about the characters and what might happen next or the parts I really loved and reacted to, I feel like I’m spinning through my day and my responsibilities. I feel energized and awake and good knowing that sometime soon I’m going to get to reenter the world of a book I’m falling in love with.
When I watch a movie I really like, I can watch it over and over again. I memorize the script and the moments that feel intense: an expression, a minute movement, a particularly pretty landscape, a score of music. I cry during movies all the time because the feelings I associate with them are so intense. And when a good movie finishes I cry again because I know it’ll never be as intense as it was the first time and I can’t believe it’s over. I never want it to end - time just disappears.
My whole family knows that dancing at the dinner table means I’m really loving my food. This doesn’t happen often, but sometimes a meal seems so unbelievably good I put all my attention to memorizing each detail. I will often talk about meals I’ve had afterward like a treasured memory (Shrimp Saganaki in Paros, Greece; The Maclaren at Pizza Nerds in Ottawa; Everything by Tablespoon in Bali, and classics at Burger Priest).
It has occurred to me that not all Autistic Joy is actually Joy at all. Everyone feels things differently, and so I wonder if a feeling that is negative to one person can sometimes be positive to another. I have a deep and complicated sense of my emotions, which means I am often able to appreciate them in ways most people don’t. Anger, for example, is sometimes frustrating and helpless, but sometimes it’s empowering and clarifying. Sadness is sometimes a painful gnawing in my stomach. But other times it’s a quiet and peaceful sense of sleepiness - a feeling I associate with rainy days and soft blankets, a cup of tea and a book. I love this kind of sadness. It makes me feel connected to myself and the world around me. It makes everything seem profound - it’s a great mood for writing.
Supporting Links
https://www.authenticallyemily.uk/blog/autistic-joy
https://tiffany-landry.com/blog/how-to-prioritize-autistic-joy-and-pleasure
https://ndconnection.co.uk/blog/autistic-joy
https://stimpunks.org/glossary/autistic-joy/
https://autisticempath.com/autistic-joy/
https://nspc.org.uk/about-the-school/nspc-news/autistic-joy/
https://thinkingautismguide.com/2021/02/the-joy-and-vibrance-of-autism.html
https://theoxfordblue.co.uk/the-1-autistic-joy/
Blog posts like this one:
Neuro-Diverse Communication - What We Can Learn From Autistic Ways of Connecting
I’m going to take a rather daring step forward and argue, now, that in some ways, autistic ways of speaking are actually superior.
Unmasking: A Diary Entry on Pretending
Unmasking was a term that began, for me, as a process neuro-divergents go through when we decide to stop doing all the little things we do to convince other people we’re not weird.
My Therapist Doesn’t Wear A Bra: Commentary on Therapeutic Professionalism and Self-Presentation
It’s me. I’m the therapist that doesn’t wear a bra. The clothing we wear utilizes cultural associations to signal stereotypes to the people around us - these messages impact other people’s perception of us.