We all make ourselves the main character in a film called Life. We all like to pretend we’re writing our own part. I’ve just received my autism assessment report, and, while I do genuinely appreciate feedback, it is a little bit galling to be told ‘CUT! You’re wrong!’

So, here are some alternative views from an assistant director/psychologist:

This assessment is based on the World Health Organisation International Classification of *Diseases*

Your facial expressions showed some variation at times however overall, this was limited.

Your intonation was also something which had limited variation which made inferring your emotions or feelings more difficult for others.

You didn’t tend to descriptive gestures outside of the demonstration task, and those which you used in this task were not consistent throughout your demonstrations either.

[I honestly don’t know what this means.]

Your mother…observed that your facial expressions can be more neutral with minimal variation, and this can come across to others as being aloof.

[Yes, though causing the perception that I’m aloof is completely unintended. My internal expressions are volcanic, though I appreciate it’s harder to judge these, especially in a world that values surface over substance. That was a joke. Sort of.]

In (the autism assessment), conversation was able to flow between you and the assessor, however this could often feel one-sided and centred on you and your experiences.

[Literally the whole point of the assessment was to talk about me. The more I read this comment about me being one-sided in my own autism assessment appointment, the dizzier and more depressed I feel.]

When offering information to the assessor, you tended to go off on tangents frequently, offering information that wasn’t always relevant to the question you were asked.

[You got me there. There’s a reason or two why I’m currently going through an ADHD assessment.]

There were times when the assessor was able to try and encourage reciprocity or leave prompts which we would expect someone to ask for more information about – you tended to acknowledge these and then bring the conversation back to yourself.

[I think reciprocity also involves understanding that autistic people tend to be pragmatic, focussed, and averse to small talk, especially in an autism assessment appointment that may have taken *decades* to happen. Fancy feeling invisible for your whole life and then, when you have the opportunity to talk about your whole life, someone – a professional(!) – concludes that you talk too much about yourself!]

There was one occasion where you asked the assessor about what instruments they played, however this seemed part of a preoccupation and interest for you as you had also mentioned that you play instruments.

[I still – in my 40s – cannot understand why it is so offensive to neurotypical people when you share your interest in another person’s interest. Why is autistic enthusiasm so difficult to appreciate?]

We also felt in the ADOS that you had some level of preoccupation around ASC as well as ADHD and often would bring this up across multiple contexts when it wasn’t always relevant to the topic.

[Crikey. Well, I can only suggest that, if you’re in your 40s and think that you might be autistic and/or an ADHDer, you may well be tempted to link autism/ADHD to…your WHOLE EXISTENCE.]

It will be important for you, as well as your friends and family to understand more about ASC and Autism.

[I can think of a few people who would benefit from understanding more about ASC and Autism. Hang on, what’s the difference between ASC and Autism?]

Words, words, words…Except, they mean so much. We can write our own stories, but if you’re autistic, you’ll have an editorial battle with people who don’t know you. It would be fine if it was just a story, but it’s not…It’s your life.