Asperger's on the Inside

Okay, heading back to the story of my high school years.

After having walked away from St. Agnes’s once and for all, I began anticipating and preparing for my new life at my up-and-coming co-ed senior school, Beaconhills College. I got to work (or play, for me) daydreaming and making up fantasies about how I was going to thrive and be popular in this new arena. Little scenarios played out in my head of people coming up and taking interest in talking to me, boys paying me attention, etc. In my head, I was queen of my new world.

I also grew excited at the idea of being able to see my friends Monique and Emma once again. It felt like it had been too long since I’d had any close-knit, intimate playmates, and I was so relieved that I was about have that back. Life was going to be fun again! This time, I had learnt to value others so much more than I ever had in the past. Old, solid friends are like gold, and I wanted to embrace that.

So on my first day of school, I walked up into the office area side-by-side with my mum. She dropped me off and said goodbye, and I remember it taking a while to be seen. But after a nervous wait in some chairs outside an office, I was finally welcomed by one of the teachers, who walked me around and introduced me to others whom we ran into. I can’t remember now which teacher it was or even picture her face, but I do remember that it felt unusually laid back, and I wondered, wasn’t it a problem that I wasn’t in class yet?

The whole culture of the school was different from what I was used to, and it surprised me in various ways. It was a government-subsidized co-ed school and didn’t have all the bells and whistles that St Agnes’s had had, nor did it have nearly as many rules. We were allowed to wear sweaters without our blazers—oh the liberty!—and school pins on our clothes, a look that was definitely considered too messy to be seen outside of grounds when representing St Agnes’s. I no longer had to listen to excerpts from The Diary of Anne Frank every morning from assembly or donation speeches.

The principal back at St Agnes’s had been prone to whimsy, and we often thought it tiresome. I recall how one morning, she’d given a speech in which she tried to inspire us to donate by describing two dollars as “just something you kick under the bed” and how much I had resisted that idea, thinking, “Hell no it isn’t! I guard my two-dollar coins like precious gold!” It made me more determined than ever that there was no way I was giving up any of my money for the school! At that age, I couldn’t possibly imagine what the school could want my money for.

Now, as I settled in at my new school, I could see the difference that school fees can make. There was no nice school hall with comfortable chairs for me anymore! Instead, I found myself sitting on the ground in a great grey cement square every morning before class and reciting the Lord’s Prayer to start off the day. The assemblies were long and boring, and I realized that suddenly, Anne Frank didn’t seem so bad! I mostly stared at the ground for that part.

I also noticed the absence of the assembly choir and daily singing and, surprisingly, found myself nostalgic about it. Though I’d been too shy to join a choir or commit to anything while I was there, the singing at St. Agnes’s had had a place in my heart that I only really noticed once it was gone. It goes to show how easy it is to take the most beautiful things in your life for granted.

The addition of boys to the school was also new to me and a bit of a shock to my system. I wasn’t familiar with the sexual element of having males around, and at first, I would blush when addressed, wondering what they were thinking about me. I think one of them found that encouraging and kept approaching me for that reason over the first week or two! But it was more in a hopeful nature than a teasing one, and he lost interest soon enough when I was clearly not that easy to get near.

I got over my self-conscious blushing issue soon enough and settled into my new environment comfortably. It was just different and strange, and it felt so nice to be popular for a change.

On the first day, as anticipated, Monique and Emma and the circle of girls that they were now friends with welcomed me with open arms. They were a calm, peaceful group of around eight or so girls, and I was surprised to find that pretty much all the girls in it were extremely kind—a rather rare thing in my experience so far!

The girls mostly sat around outside or at a table at recess and lunch time to talk hobbies and pleasantries, and I learnt quickly that a few of them had strong Christian backgrounds that made them very close. I wasn’t religious myself, so it was cool that the girls were kind and tolerant of me regardless, and I never felt unwelcome on that basis.

But as time passed and my novelty wore off, I did start to notice myself slowly becoming restless within the group. At first, I couldn’t understand why I felt so out of place there, as the girls really were lovely, and I puzzled to put my finger on where the discomfort was coming from. It’s hard to describe exactly what it even was—a frustration, an itch to get more air time myself to talk about personal and deep things.

Perhaps the group was too large and the dynamics of the conversation were a bit paralyzing. In such a sizeable circle of smiles and chatter, I found myself a rather silent member of the group and somewhat frustrated with my inability to express myself. But I couldn’t place or articulate those feelings. I didn’t know about my Aspie self yet.

A few times, I tried to re-initiate going off and spending regular one-on-one time with Monique the way we used to back in the day. We did that a little, but she was no longer interested in spending all her time with me. She’d grown and moved on to wanting to talk about boys and center herself in the larger group. Gossip was the new and exciting social norm, and she had a talent for telling exciting stories and having the girls in stitches. I didn’t understand why she’d changed and where my old best friend had gone.

And so the year went on, with me sort of lingering on the side of that group, fitting in but feeling out of place at the same time. Back in my class time, I took a lot longer to come out of my shell, as I didn’t know anyone in my math and science electives, which were strongly predominated by males. All the girls in the group had chosen humanities or much simpler subjects, so it probably took me a good several months or so to really start talking to those classmates.

However, once I did break the ice with a few of the guys in my maths ^[16] classes, I realized a few things rapidly. For one, guys weren’t as scary as I’d thought, and two, I clicked far better with the boys in my classes than I ever had with any girls. They were more consistent, straightforward creatures whose style of thinking was comfortable and familiar to me. Something just felt “right.”

Within a few weeks into the term, a few of the more intelligent guys, whom I suppose may stereotypically have been described as “nerds,” became my particular friends, and I started spending my lunchtimes with a group of six or seven guys instead of the girls. It was irregular, and I think at first, it caused some offense among the girls’ group that I’d first spent my time with. They must have assumed I was ditching them for male attention, and it was true that I seemed to get more attention from that group, but there was a lot more to it than that. I just felt at home in this group in a way that I hadn’t before. Finally, a niche I could fit into.

Over time, I became more and more involved as a core part of the “guy group,” as I would call it, and started spending time with them after school as well. They’d created a small garage-style band, and we would go to alternating people’s houses for band practice every week or two.

I wasn’t much of a musician myself, but I dabbled with playing chords on the guitar for the sake of being part of the group. To this day, I still only know how to play a few chords and not much more. I even attempted a little singing for one of the songs. The band wanted to take itself seriously and recruited a new young drummer who was quite talented. It never took off into much of anything, but we had a lot of fun.

We wandered the bushes near one or two of the guys’ houses and played in old bush lands and a hidden overgrown amphitheater, talking about our music and random other teen chit-chat. At one of the guys’ birthday parties, we had to dress up in 1940s outfits, and a small group of us went into McDonalds to get supplies. To my teenage mind, that was hilarious! I have so many memories of giggling and innocent mischief. It was the highlight of my high school years.

Back at school, I know there were some raised eyebrows at the fact that I was hanging on to this group of guys so closely, as I do like to make intimate friendships, and so I knew each guy well. Sometimes, I could be particularly chatty with two of my closest friends in the group, and I was told off in class more and more frequently for talking too much at the wrong moments! But at the same time, the teachers sort of had a soft spot for me as the good student, and I was never chastised too badly.

Come the end-of-year graduation celebration, I remember arriving in a fancy car that my guy friends and I had hired as a group. I dressed myself up in a long, blue, slimming dress and felt like the belle of the ball sitting at the guy table for the dinner portion of the event. Looking back, I still didn’t know how to make myself up well—my eyebrows were too thick, and my face was plain. But I looked naturally pretty and slender and was feeling at home at my table with all my guy friends. It was a night to be excited about.

There was music and a dinner, and after a long evening of excitement, each of us was invited to come to the stage one by one to receive a token of our graduation. I can’t recall now what we were handed. A certificate? A signed Bible? However, the thing that really did stick with me was the short speech I received when I walked up. A girl read out, with a tone of humor and light teasing, “Most girls have trouble finding one boyfriend in high school. Michelle has seven!”

And then, suddenly, I was walking up to the stage, a little taken aback, because you would think there could be other positive things that I could have been remembered for on that night. To imply I was having a relationship with all the guys was a little degrading for the importance of the moment, and I was a little tired of being misunderstood that way. But anyway, I’m sure it was all in fun, and I walked up and received my prize with a smile anyway.

I could complain about it, but then again, after high school, I did go on to date one of the boys from the group and ended up in a relationship with him for the next three years, so I guess I can’t protest too loudly!