Vice article in the Autistic/LGBTQ experience

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Struggling to find a sense of belonging is nothing new for queer people. Yet even after I came out, I still had a persistent feeling of wrongness; of feeling like an outsider even within my own community.

Recently, I realised that I’m on the autism spectrum. I can now see that what I had put down to eccentricity, being “difficult” or feeling out of place are mostly byproducts of trying to get by in a world built for neurotypical people.

“Our society often puts down difference to whatever’s most visible,” says Charlie*, a bisexual non-binary university student who was diagnosed with autism in their early 20s. “Growing up for me, a lot of my neuroatypical behaviour, thoughts, feelings, experiences were put down to queerness or put down to just whatever was most visible in the situation.”

“It was kind of doubly erasing because it made my queerness take on lots of attitudes and stereotypes that aren’t necessarily true, whilst also erasing my neurodiversity.”

Charlie’s self-described “chronic disorganisation” and “touch-and-go [attitude] about social events” were seen by others as an example of their “inner confusion about [their] bisexuality” – a biphobic stereotype in itself – rather than a sign of their executive dysfunction, a common problem that causes autistic people to struggle with time management and completing tasks.

It doesn’t help when experiences like mine or Charlie’s aren’t portrayed accurately in the media.

If, like me, you’re autistic and queer, you can expect your reality to be doubly erased – first by neurotypical actors getting cast in neurodivergent roles, and then by the ongoing phenomenon of straight cis actors getting cast in queer roles.

Twenty-year-old Tylan Grant (above) is one of the few autistic actors to actually play a character with autism. As Brooke Hathaway on Hollyoaks, they are a stark contrast to most TV and film representation.

“It’s interesting having an invisible disability and also being queer, and a person of colour, and non-binary because the world already treats you differently from the jump,” Tylan tells VICE, adding, “It’s weird working in an industry that I don’t usually see myself in, and when I do it’s played by people that aren’t autistic or aren’t queer.”

They say that it can be a struggle to find working environments that accommodate autistic people and queer people respectively, let alone both. “It’s already so difficult for us to advocate for ourselves,” Tylan says. “It’s quite a scary thing. You shouldn’t have to be on a job and not want to tell people you’re autistic because you might lose the job and they might think it’s too much.”

You might think that queer autistic people could leave behind the prejudice of wider society and seek refuge in the LGBTQ community, but things aren’t that simple. Even before the pandemic shuttered queer venues, many of those with autism found them inaccessible.

“I think a lot of queer spaces are not inviting,” says Chuck SJ, a trans and neurodivergent multidisciplinary artist who is part of the queercore band Byenary. “They think they are, but they’re not. "

Chuck explains that a lack of understanding about autism can impede the way neurotypical people communicate with their neurodivergent peers in these spaces. The practice of masking – in which autistic people perform certain behaviours to appear more neurotypical – can be exhausting.

Chay Graham, a spokesperson for the Disabled Students’ Campaign at the University of Cambridge, says that there are plenty of ways to fight this ableism. They list by way of example: “Supporting someone applying for benefits against the DWP, turning up with them to an appointment to make sure their doctor listens to them, seeking out lists of queer-friendly doctors that will help trans people transition and let queer people get a diagnosis…”

“A lot of people going for gender-affirming treatment are being told, ‘It’s just because you’re autistic or because you’re mentally ill,’” they explain. “In these situations, having another queer person to advocate for them can be invaluable.”

In the recently published report, “Straight Sex is Complicated Enough: The Lived Experiences of Autistics Who are Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Asexual, or Other Sexual Orientations,” professor Laura Lewis reveals that individuals who identify as autistic and LGBTQ+ are often members of a "double minority” who experience high risk for anxiety, depression, sexual abuse and suicide.

Seventy percent of the participants in Lewis’s study identify as LGBTQ+, and Lewis found that for these individuals, learning to express their sexual identities and communicate their needs is beneficial in relieving the anxiety, sensory overload, and social isolation that can accompany autism.

Lewis’s research, published in the September 2020 Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, suggests that health care providers can offer meaningful support for individuals with autism who identify as LGBTQ+ by helping them to understand their identities, communicate relationship needs, and manage sensory and social stressors that can affect sexual intimacy and quality of life.

Several participants in Lewis’ study shared that they sometimes felt that their sexual identity was discounted by others as illegitimate - attributed to lack of social experience, or associated with their autistic traits, rather than a distinct part of their identity. Many participants indicated that their experience was one of being doubly isolated: from the LGBTQ+ community due to autism, and from the autism community due to their sexual orientation, which resulted in feeling lonely and misunderstood.