Originally posted to my Facebook on August 21, 2026
My older sister once wondered aloud, "How would your life have been different, if you had come to college at Ricks (now BYU-Idaho) with me? And if I never said it out loud, I certainly thought it: 'I would never have grown up . . . and you'd still have to be playing interference / caretaker for me.'
Instead, I went to college, found friends, made my own mistakes, (by some miracle) got married, had children, finished my Bachelor's degree, had jobs, and learned the truth of Victor Hugo's words: “To love another person is to see the face of God.”
My brain simply doesn't process words the same way as the majority of the people on the bell curve. So, I guess that makes me different.
Secretly, I think we are all a little different in our own way. Mine just makes communication a challenge (and everything tangentially related to communication).
It isn't something I'm proud of;
it just is.
And yes, sometimes it makes for a confusing, humiliating, rocky ride. But it is all I've ever known, so I have nothing to compare it to. Honestly, I'm more surprised when everyone else just assumes they understand each other - that seems more bizarre to me.
Less bizarre though, was using the pay phone in the dorm hallway to call home my first semester of college,
and crying.
The year my older sister left for college did cause a huge upheaval. At least a third of my friend base disappeared, along with her - so, most of the wise mentors and people I looked up to vanished. But I still had friends my own age, along with a part time job, school clubs, and church. There wasn't really time to think or be lonely (or think about being lonely).
I'm not sure I even felt lonely at college. I was alone with my thoughts so much of the time anyway, it didn't seem unusual. But nothing was familiar - and maybe that is the Autism spectrum talking (or age awareness). And that felt isolating.
There were no people (at college) with whom I had a shared history - unlike the quasi-puppy litter we were at home, all constantly stumbling over each other.
After you get to know someone, or spend enough time with them, you begin to see micro-expressions. Or you just become accustomed to what they do when they are happy, carefree, or quiet. I don't know how true this is, but supposedly there is a 55/38/7 formula that explains communication: 55% through body language, 38% through tone of voice, and only 7% through spoken words.
It takes me a little longer (than the average) to pick up on non-verbal cues, even though I look for them. I think I just have a hard time determining what they mean - feelings, intentions, etc. So when I went to college, not only did it take an incredibly long time to get to know people (beside my own roommate); no one knew me. And that second bit hit harder than the first.
If you don't realize people think they know you, because they quickly take in that 55% non-verbal communication of body language they are reading; it is easy to come across as shy or dismissive. And then they hear your words and tone of voice, and some people think you are abrupt, too direct, or rude.
And you are just on the side feeling overwhelmed and confused, because you can't read anyone . . . yet. And they've all made assumptions about you.
So, as my siblings age (and change), and I realize they are much more complex people than I knew growing up; it has been fun to watch them - mostly as (new versions of) people I once knew so well (as children). And I like to imagine they are still the ones who make that effort to bridge my communication gap; because they see me as I really am, (and maybe someday really will be - when I don't have to try so hard at this communication thing).
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