About Eliza Jane

With a lifelong passion for books, stories, and the written word, I am a writer and proofreader. I’m also a qualified bookkeeper with a history of working in accounts, credit control and admin. In the past, I qualified as a hypnotherapist (hypnotist in the US) and, while I never practiced, have an enduring interest in psychology and helping those who're struggling. For this reason, I worked in the community care industry for twelve years.

In 2018, the direction of my life changed unexpectedly. No great trauma occurred, but my life took an unexpected turn when a curtain that had cast a shadow over my life pulled back, allowing a pinprick of light to break through. It was then that I realised I could be autistic. Following several months of research, in 2019,  I embarked on the journey to diagnosis.

It was a long and frustrating road, but eventually, three years after the initial assessment, I received my diagnosis and could make some sense of my life experience. What really baffled me was how an autistic adult could live so long without their difference being realised. Surely someone must have known!

The reason was frighteningly simple: people don’t recognise autistic traits in undiagnosed adults for what they are. People designate other reasons for what they are seeing and never question them because the accepted explanation has been around for so long, it’s a ‘known’. The belief is so deeply entrenched, it’s the reason doubters refuse to acknowledge the existence of autistic brains, despite the harm caused to those affected.

At school, I’d always enjoyed learning,  so school hadn’t been a problem. Recognition of neurodivergence in children has improved in recent years, but for my generation, teachers only noticed us if we were disruptive or falling behind and even then, it was unlikely they would know why. I neither struggled academically nor caused problems in the classroom, but because of the lack of diagnosis and subsequent lack of help or support in a social sense, my complimentary and positive school reports made no difference to my life after school.

From the start of my working life, I received odd looks from other people and found myself on the receiving end of spiteful behaviour without knowing why. Worse than that, I always felt that I was living my life with one arm tied behind my back; that despite my diligence and capabilities, people actively stopped me from progressing at work just because they didn’t like me.

Discrimination exists in many forms, and for most minority groups, is already being addressed. This is not, however, the case for those whose difference relates to brain function. People like me are gaining traction in bringing an awareness of our reality to the rest of the world, but without understanding, there can be no tolerance, and without tolerance, there can be no acceptance.

Three years is a long time to wait for a diagnosis when your ‘condition’ has not only had a tremendous impact on your life, but continues to do so. It does, however, reflect the exponential demand for assessments in a society that is slowly awakening to the reality of other types of brain function and mental processing. For me, the wait was worth it. I’m proud to be a detail-driven autist and my writing projects now focus on raising autistic awareness and acceptance of our heavily misunderstood neurotype.

The lack of awareness in relation to the breadth of The Spectrum leads many people to believe that all autistic people need significant support, and if we don’t, then we can’t really be autistic. In truth, some autistic people don’t appear disabled at all, but that doesn’t mean they’re not struggling. Rather, they’re creating a long-term challenge for themselves by masking their autistic traits. Alternatively, those who can’t mask at all, or who can’t do so consistently, find that people assume they’re ‘bad’ neurotypicals and punish them instead of offering support.

This is a situation that desperately needs to change. I’ve written Smash the Boulder to raise autistic awareness, to improve relationships in the workplace and to enable those who’re struggling, the chance of a better life. I want to improve the life experience of younger autists and dismantle the barriers that may obstruct them in working environments, but we need the help of open-minded neurotypicals to create this reality. Knowledge. Understanding. Tolerance. Acceptance. Together, we can do this.

If you're interested in raising autistic awareness, ending  the discrimination at work autistic people face, or just receiving my monthly 'feedback on feedback' newsletter, please drop me a line at:

eliza@awesomescribblersunited.uk

I'd love to hear from you...