22 Things A Woman Must Know

When we discovered that my husband Scott likely has Aspergers' Syndrome, I went to Amazon to see what resources were available to learn more. I bought several books dealing specifically with relationships and read them all, from the overly clinical scientific descriptions to the emotionally-based children's books. Eight books later, I was convinced that we could actually put a name to Scott's quirky behaviors and unique perspective on life and relationships. That in itself has been tremendously helpful.

Once Amazon knows what your interests are (based on your purchases), they suggest new items on the same or similar topics. I got an email recently suggesting this book and logged in to read the reviews. One woman wrote a review with a phrase in it that so described my experience with Scott that I was moved to respond, both to her and to the other people making comments on her review.

The phrase that grabbed me was inside of this sentence: "Most of these women will end up with major depression and one or more autoimmune diseases from never having their own light reflected back at them as time goes on living with someone who is almost completely unreciprocal but who is supposed to be your life partner."

The words "never having their own light reflected back at them" articulated so well a feeling that I haven't been able to put into words. It was validating for me and defined one of my experiences in our relationship. Though Scott expresses his love for me in unique ways, which are meaningful and appreciated, the nature of Aspergers' doesn't really allow for a contented connection as advertised and experienced in "normal" couple's lives when you love someone deeply. Aspies never attain that level of peaceful comfort within themselves, let alone learn how to share, enjoy or appreciate that kind of connection as part of a couple.

I've told Scott before that he gets to see himself through my eyes, but I have to see myself through his, and that he gets the better deal. I project my ideal image of who he can be and what he means to me onto him as though he's already attained it perfectly. His view of me requires only his logical brain and observation of stark reality. His perception doesn't come with frills or emotionally tinged filters that allow me to believe he sees me any differently than anyone else would. My flaws stick out. I don't get to feel funnier, thinner, younger or more attractive than I really am (or am not) just because he "loves" me. Even my own coping mechanisms that make me feel "special" are challenged when his blunt honesty defines me so succinctly.

With Scott, no one gets a better deal. I'm lumped into the general category of all other humanity, with no special concessions for sharing a life with him and knowing what life's like behind closed doors. I'm a flawed mortal with characteristics (tolerance and self-entertaining self-sufficiency are the most important ones) he finds appealing enough to want to be around more than most, but that's it. So, I miss out on the relationship "games" people play that reinforce their "specialness" to each other.

So, of course I bought the book, which winds up being written by a woman with Aspergers' (If I remember correctly, one in four Aspies are women). The book is very sympathetically written, and includes a section called "His Words" after each chapter, which is the Aspie's perspective on the topic discussed.

This book should certainly not be the only resource for an NT (which stands for Neuro Typical, the term used for the non-Asperger partner). It's a very validating checklist, however, as an introduction to Aspergers. If you're wondering if your mate has it, I'd get it.

Even Scott gave the book validity. I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth and could tell Scott had picked up the book on the bed that I was reading. I think it was the maniacal outburst that tipped me off. I can tell by his laughter he is now reading some passages. "What's funny?", I call out from the bathroom.

"I'm childlike?", he asks incredulously, "I'm effeminate?" "Oh my God, I say the same things these men say in this book!", he says.

Welcome to my world.

I don't feel quite as susceptible to the depression and autoimmune diseases mentioned in the review. My response to the review explains why.

It turns out 2009 is a banner year for illuminating Aspergers' Syndrome. Two movies were released recently.

This one, Mary and Max, by my favorite clay animation filmmaker, Adam Elliott.

There's a scene in the trailer where Max is opening his mail. His startle reflex is triggered by the telephone ringing, causing the letter in his hands to fly across the room, make a perfect landing in the toaster and subsequently get incinerated. That sequence is the perfect metaphor for (or literal demonstration of) how Scott experiences daily life. Meanwhile, I'm beside him opening and reading the mail without incident.

And this one, Adam. (Scott has actually spoken the dialog in this trailer, years before the movie was released.)