I remember when I was fifteen, being asked to vacuum the living room. I got yelled at because I hadn’t done it well enough, and I was told that I had to sometimes move furniture. The next time I vacuumed, I moved all the furniture, including the heavy bookcase. Then I got yelled at again because I had no “common sense” and this was obviously not what had been meant by moving furniture.
It felt to me as an autistic teen like there was no way to win. I was always desperately trying to figure out what people expected of me. I wanted so badly to do what I was supposed to do, to get things “right.” But it felt like no one would ever tell me what the rules were plainly enough that I could figure them out. And then I got blamed for not having “common sense,” which seemed so unfair to me. Common sense didn’t seem at all common to me. It seemed mysterious and magical, a set of rules no one would say out loud or even admit existed.
I didn’t have common sense when it came to dating, either. I was told as a young teenage girl that I was supposed to say yes to any boy who asked because it was rude not to go out with someone who had shown the courage to ask me. So I said yes to every boy who asked, including several boys who frightened me and then touched me inappropriately. I told them no to any second dates, because that was allowed, but I could have gotten into a lot worse trouble. I…
