What if your Valentine is Autistic?

Love is funny. I mean funny weird not funny “ha-ha.” I’ve been married for three years, but it feels like forever. That’s partly because of the way Covid lockdown warped our sense of time. But mostly it’s because my husband is on the autism spectrum and I’m not, a gap that feels wider than the Grand Canyon. Neurodiverse love is a challenge. He’s my Valentine but it’s not all hearts and flowers.

When I first suspected that he might be neurodivergent, I felt protective and slightly superior – “Poor dear, he needs me to help him navigate.” But time and hard knocks have taught me humility. Although we speak different languages and even operate in different realities, I’ve learned that his autistic brain and my allistic one can find common ground if we work at it. But we both have to be willing.

The CDC estimates that 4,357,667 (3.62%) of male adults in the U.S. are on the autism spectrum. Many autistic adults function successfully by “masking” or copying their peers and pretending to be neurotypical. A huge fraction of this population is not diagnosed, receives no support, and suffers silently. My spouse is in the undiagnosed pile – like many autistic husbands, his wife is the clinician.

Different Approaches

Covid lockdown brought our differences to the surface. He manages anxiety by shutting down and disappearing. I verbalize my fear and expect my partner to empathize. Our different approaches collided head on with my expressions of angst and upset triggering him to withdraw, causing me more distress. It has become a vicious cycle, a common problem in neurodiverse love.

It took us many months to figure out that regular marital therapy was largely useless for a neurodiverse couple. Talk therapy is about confronting, exploring, and sharing feelings – the very thing the autistic brain is not wired to do. In therapy sessions, I would verbalize my feelings while my husband would feel I was criticizing him and divert the conversation or shut down entirely.

Now, we meet with an autism-certified coach who is specifically trained to work with neurodiverse couples. It’s too soon to know how effective this approach will be. However, I can say that in a few sessions and through a pile of assigned readings and videos, I’ve taken a crash course in boundaries and detachment.

Valentine’s Day Poses Challenges

Valentine’s Day poses special challenges. As a neurotypical (NT) woman, I enjoy romance. Flowers and chocolate? Bring it on. I have one friend whose autistic husband gave her an electric toothbrush as a Valentine’s gift and couldn’t understand why she was upset.

Many autistic people, including neurodivergent (ND) women, find the day baffling. Shouldn’t we show love for our partners every day? Feeling obligated to get flowers and give gifts feels like too much pressure. Ritual displays of love feel artificial. Many would prefer to ignore the day altogether.

Plenty of single NT women feel the same, although for different reasons.

Because I know how how my husband feels about holidays – “Bah humbug,” sums it up – I began talking about Valentine’s plans soon after Christmas. I’ve learned I need to give him plenty of time to consider my requests. I made a few suggestions for restaurants and let him choose.

Back to the Past

He decided on a little Italian place in Alameda where we went out to dinner for our first Valentine’s Day in 2013. Back then, I was only 64, a youngster!

To prepare for that special evening, I went to extra lengths. I got a manicure and had my hair styled. I pulled my sexiest top out of the closet.

“You look beautiful,” he said when he picked me up.

“Thanks,” I said and kissed him on the cheek.

In the dimly lit restaurant, we traded bites of pasta and shared a decadent chocolate dessert. Later, I gave him a Valentine’s card that showed a teacup with a teabag labeled “OCD” (that’s the girl) and a coffee cup (the boy of the duo) with a stir stick labeled “Anxiety.” The caption reads, “We go together like a couple of co-morbid psychiatric disorders.”

I thought it was hilarious. He barely cracked a smile. That was one in a series of clues that I overlooked at the beginning of our relationship that I was part of a neurodiverse couple. My beloved’s mind is very literal. Metaphors leave him cold, and inferences are useless. I plowed ahead in my NT groove.

Neurodiverse Love: Bridging the Gaps

But now I know I have to ask specifically for what I want. I must be concrete. Then I have to wait patiently for him to decide. If I try to push my agenda, it only drives him away. Modifying my communication style and my expectations is not easy; but it’s helped both of us feel more at peace.

I’ve written a book about all this which will be published in 2024 by Vine Leaves Press. Honestly, I don’t know how our story ends. But I hope it’s happily. As one autistic husband put it, “We speak a different body language and emotional language than the rest of the world.”

Finding ways to bridge the gap between our autistic and allistic minds is something we do every day. Valentine’s Day is just another reminder that the work of neurodiverse love is worth celebrating.

This post originally appeared in the Rossmoor News in slightly different form.