Why I Write
What makes someone a great communicator? I used to think that a heightened knowledge regarding language and vocabulary would automatically allow for an increase in one’s communicability. However, in attempting to streamline my language and verbal expression, I have realized that it only accounts for a small portion of one’s full ability to communicate. One could even argue that tone and body language are even more important than the actual spoken words in terms of self-expression.
This poses a very real problem for someone on the spectrum. I’ve never been able to fully grasp the concept of non-linguistic expression, including vocal tone and body language. My facial expressions are somewhat erratic and not always indicative of how I’m currently feeling. I think that most people who see me on the street probably assume that I’m an unfriendly person, given how intense my facial expressions are sometimes. I do not have “resting b**** face”, mostly because I don’t really have much of a resting face in the first place. It is nearly impossible for me to abstain from flexing my eyebrows and pressing my lips together when I am deep in thought. In fact, my face practically moves independently of my will, which is exactly why you’ll never see me at a game of Texas Hold ‘Em.
When you strip away these aspects of communication that never came naturally to me, what remains? You are left with the words and nothing else. My whole life, I’ve struggled for some semblance of control. I have actually found this to be crucial in managing my Autism. If words are the aspect of communication that I feel I have learned (hence, I have the most control over it), then I don’t feel it’s a mystery as to why I have enjoyed writing for as long as I can remember.
As long as I write clearly and precisely, I’ve felt that there is very little room for misinterpretation. Thus, I have control over the tone in my writing due to the specificity of the language I’ve decided to employ. You will never see my face, nor will you have to pick apart my tone of voice to fully understand me.
Do I wish that I could be friendlier? Do I wish that I could attend a social gathering of more than four people for thirty minutes without having an anxiety attack? Do I wish I understood flirting? Or how to flirt at all? Yeah. I do. In fact, there are some days when I wish I could trade away every word I’ve ever written for the ability to do any of that. Life would certainly be easier.
However, I was born with specific aptitudes and deficiencies. To a certain extent, I’m stuck with what I’ve got. I believe that I’ve come a long way in figuring ways to work around my “weaknesses”, but I realize that non-verbal communication will always be difficult for me. Therefore, it stands to reason that I will write until I am no longer mentally able to do so. The only way that my ability to write will ever matter is if I use it. That’s why I write. As someone who wishes more than anything to be understood, writing seems to be the best way to do that.
I’m sure that there are some people out there who are as weird as I am – to whom I wouldn’t need to overexplain how my mind works. However, I haven’t found them yet. Until then, I write.
