Can I be gentle with this?
Note: an earlier version of this essay was published in my newsletter The Queer Autistic Newsletter. You can read that version here.
I’m in my therapy session talking with my therapist about my anxiety when she invites me to lay a hand over my heart, gently rock and bring some presence to it. I place a gentle hand over my hand and begin to notice the sensations of rocking and the stability of my feet on my floor. I name out loud the pressure in my chest and throat and then automatically whisper gently comforting words to the anxiety:
I promise you we’re going to be okay.
You’re allowed to be here.
You make so much sense.
After five or so minutes I reflect to my therapist that I feel grounded and that my anxiety has eased a lot. But then I burst out laughing “I know these things! What you guided me to do is exactly what I would say when coaching a client. Why don’t I do this more often?” She kindly reminds me that as practitioners sometimes we have the medicine (aka tools and knowledge) and need to remind ourselves to do these things. The truth is that my relationship to anxiety feels both new and ancient. Last year I got diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and it felt both so tender and also affirming. Getting the diagnosis reminded me of how tender and affirming getting my late dual diagnosis of Autism and ADHD felt. Looking back I can remember all of the big emotions of excitement, relief to finally have a name for my experiences, grief, overwhelm and tenderness. I dived headfirst into learning about Autism and ADHD, both because of a newly awakened special interest in neurodivergence but also so I could learn how to better support my AuDHDer self.
But I’ve been slower to tend to my anxiety and get to know it. My Autistic brain who deeply loves analyzing the shit out of things really wants to understand my anxiety and verbally process it. But I’ve found the most supportive thing I can do is to actually lead with my body instead of my head. To put aside the desire to “understand” why I’m anxious and to instead use the steady somatic tools I know and trust. To lean towards it, to place a hand on my body and to approach it with kindness and care. To call in support, whether that’s the trees outside my window, the steadiness of the ground beneath my feet or a trusted weighted plushie.
I care about this pain.
When we experience things like anxiety or challenging emotions it makes so much sense to want to turn away from the pain, to brace against it or even to feel frustrated like “Ugg, my anxiety is here again.” All of those responses make so much sense and a kinder approach to dealing with anxiety and challenging emotions might look like:
Taking a moment to pause, place a hand over your heart and say something like “anxiety, it’s okay for you to be here” or “it makes so much sense that you’re here.”
Checking in with your body and seeing what the most supportive thing would be for your anxiety or challenging emotions right now. If taking a pause doesn’t feel doable, perhaps you might want to do something soothing or distracting.
Ask yourself: “what would be the most loving care I could receive right now?” Is there a small doable way you could receive that care right now?
Cooperate with your body. Just like animals follow their instincts, can you follow yours? Perhaps that’s following a desire to curl up in a ball, to move your body a specific way or to make a sound.
If shame comes up when you’re experiencing anxiety or a challenging emotion can you remind yourself “others feel this way too.”
Can I trust the season I’m in?
In the past four years since moving back to the U.S. I’ve changed a lot. It’s so interesting to look back and see the different seasons I’ve been in and all the ways I’ve continued to come home to myself. I’m seeing this specifically as I’ve been engaging with dating apps and really having a challenging time with them. But today I reached out to a few neurodivergent friends1 to share some dating app related experiences and I realized that I needed a break. When I check in my with body I can name: this doesn’t feel good and I don’t want to do this right now. I’ve previously written about the power in identifying and naming what doesn’t work, what you’re a no to and what isn’t supportive. The reality is that we have different seasons where specific activities, pacing and rhythms feel supportive and other seasons where these same things just aren’t a right fit. While I’ve been feeling the desire of wanting romantic connections the reality is that my current season wants to focus on other things. I’m currently getting ready for an advanced somatic trauma resolution training that I’ll start in January-and I’m wanting space to fully be in that immersive experience.
Just like animals change their rhythms, behaviors and needs in different seasons, it can be helpful for us humans to honor the different seasons too. Sometimes it looks like checking in with your body and asking yourself:
What am I desiring in this current season?
What rhythms would feel supportive and nourishing right now?
What do I want more of? What do I want less of?
I also think it can be so supportive to approach new seasons with a sense of curiosity and exploration. It’s okay to try something out and then realize that you need to make a shift, go back to something you used to do or try something new. What would it look like if you gave yourself permission to explore?
What layers of support do I need for my well being?
Earlier this week I was about to get in the car to head into the closest city to go to a medical appointment and do some errands. I notice that I feel kind of rumbles of a meltdown…like an autistic meltdown could be on the horizon if I don’t pay attention to what I need. I knew that in an ideal world I simply wouldn’t go to the medical appointment but I really didn’t want to cancel. So I climbed into the car with a bright green weighted plushie that I wrapped around me2. I’m sharing this because when I was a very newly late diagnosed AuDHDer I felt so embarrassed to do things like use stuffed animals to comfort me or walk around in headphones. So I needed to do things one small step at a time, such as:
first wearing headphones around my then apartment.
wearing them while out on a walk but taking them off in a grocery store (I shudder at this memory.)
Wearing them in a grocery store but taking them off when checking out.
When we’re doing something new or that feels challenging it can be helpful to ask ourselves: “What would be the right pacing?” and “what’s the smallest doable step?” This is a way we can be gentle with ourselves and work with our sensitive nervous systems. After all, we deserve kindness and care.
Thank you for reading!
I hope this blog post was supportive. If you’d like to share a bit about your experience with the being gentle with your healing-please feel free to share in the comments.
The information contained in this blog post is for general educational and informational purposes only and should not be construed as medical or mental health advice. The information provided is not a substitute for advice from a qualified professional who is aware of the facts and circumstances of your individual situation. We expressly recommend that you seek advice from a professional familiar with your specific situation.
Your autistic healing matters.
I hope this blog post was helpful in your own autistic healing journey. I truly believe that us late diagnosed autistics deserve autistic affirming healing and I hope you have the best practitioners, tools and support for your own healing.
If you’re seeking autistic support and healing, I’d love to support you in my 5 month program The Autistic Mentorship. It includes:
An intensive intake session & healing map to identify your goals and developmental objectives that we’ll work on in our program together.
Three (75 minute) sessions a month.
Lots of support & education: think recap emails + personalized practices sent to your inbox, neurodivergent workbooks and resources and two optional 30 minute check-in calls.
You can find out more about The Autistic Mentorship here.
Tiffany Landry is an autistic coach and trauma resolution practitioner. She works with clients in her program The Autistic Mentorship . Tiffany also writes a free newsletter on Substack called The Queer Autistic Newsletter.