Pearls of wisdom

My parents attitude towards life had a large impact on my adult life.  They taught me to be independent.  They taught me the value of diligence.  Their teaching was very matter-of-fact.  They didn't sugar-coat.

To them, being good parents meant providing me with a shelter, giving me an opportunity for education, and a chance to have a better life than theirs.  Along the way, they pointed out all my mistakes, hoping that I would not repeat them in the "real world."  After all, they said, it was better for them to get annoyed at me, than for a co-worker or a boss to do so. 

Did I enjoy the process?  Definitely not.  I felt like I was constantly nitpicked on. But the experience helped smooth out some of my rough edges so I could fit in the NT world better.  I would never be a NT.  I don't want to be one anyway.  I can, however, pretend to be one, at least long enough to do my job in the NT world, without major stress on my part.  

My parents didn't know about Asperger's syndrome or autism spectrum disorder.  Knowing them, even if they had knowledge of my condition at a young age, they probably would not have changed much of the ways they raised me.  To them, it was about survival.  It wasn't about who should accommodate who, or why one should accommodate another.  It wasn't about rights or pride.  It was about what was the most efficient way to fit in.


Pearls of wisdom #1
"You have to pay for life one way or the other. You either pay for it early on in life, or later on in life"

My parents said that since they did not have a mountain of gold to back me up, I had to learn a skill that would allow me to make a living.  My parents told me there was no shortcut in life.  I could either work really hard in school and get an education while I was under their wings, or I could play now and pay for it later.  The decision was up to me.

Pearls of wisdom #2
"You are kind of dumb, but you can make it up with diligence."

Throughout my teenage years, my parents thought I was dumb.  I didn't understand social cues, couldn't understand jokes, didn't know how to read between the lines.  They said I was like a bead on an abacus.  I had to be told what to do in many situations, without direct instructions, I had no initiative.

As harsh as it sounded, I was not hurt by this remark.   I interpreted it literally.  It was just a factual statement.   No more hurtful than someone describing the color of my hair.  Besides, they did not leave me stranded.   They gave me a solution.  I just had to work harder, if twice as hard was not enough, then I would try three times as hard.  I ended up spending many nights studying when I was in high school.  I was pulling all-nighters when my classmates were busy dating and socializing.  I whole-heartedly believed that if I worked hard enough, I could make up for any abilities I lacked.  Oddly, it actually became an encouragement and gave me hope.