I remember when I was growing up, there was something kind of nice to find someone else in the world who seemed to be like me, especially in their shyness or their awkwardness or even their sense of loneliness. One of the places I was almost always guaranteed to find someone who reminded me of me was in books and stories. It tended to be a safe bet that I might meet a character who felt a little bit like an outsider (and therefore lonely) or who didn’t navigate school or friendships or just the world in general quite as smoothly as some of my peers made those things look. To this day, I am always delighted to make the acquaintance of a character who reflects me back to me, even if only in small or subtle ways. Even better is to meet a character who is so much like me I can say, they’re so relatable.
This is an expression I have grown accustomed to hearing from my teenagers. They experience this is various ways and I never grow tired of hearing them declare someone feels relatable to them, whether a character in a story, the character in a rock opera or single song by one of their favorite singers, someone on screen in a movie, or even a historical figure or artist or writer in one of the many nonfiction picture books we read or even in one of the lessons in our Mystery of History curriculum.
It is this experience of feeling seen and heard and represented for which I am grateful daily to be able to unschool with my girls. With their autistic experiences, they consider themselves gifted in the ability to detect fellow autistics and neurodivergent folks in the world around them, even if that world is portrayed in a story or historical biography. I love that they often see themselves in the lives of people who have forged paths that look similar to ones my girls may travel, at least from where we are right now as we glance down that path.
For example, we have read about writers and artists and musicians whose early days and childhood years were not nearly as glamorous as the ways we see them now. We read about how they have overcome challenges and obstacles. We read about how they sometimes felt like outsiders or awkward around their peers. We read about how they were met with indifference and sometimes even dislike (or even hatred) because of their differences and challenges.
When we first started reading these kinds of overcomer stories, I remember my oldest feeling more overwhelmed than encouraged. As she processed some of the stories and biographies, she realized she felt like she didn’t “measure up” or that her life seemed “easy” compared to the things some of these remarkable people had faced and overcome. Now, we spend more time talking about the ways that comparison steals our joy and weakens our own inner strength and our abilities. Even if she isn’t completely aware of it, I have watched the way these stories have encouraged, influenced, and even inspired her. Often, that evidence comes in the simple phrase, they’re so relatable, or sometimes in the wondering whether a person who seems so much like them might also have been autistic.
I wonder if these two remarkable young women realize or recognize the strength and inspiration in their own stories. I’m guessing they don’t see it as clearly as I do yet. But I have watched them walk through some challenges that look quite similar to the people they have admired in the books we’ve read—fictional and actual people. I have witnessed their resilience and their grace and their kindness. I have admired their strength when faced with bullying or when they have been hurt by people they’d considered a friend. I have stood by them and walked alongside them as they have navigated a world that I don’t consider autism-friendly in many ways.
As I have watched them and shared life with them, walking alongside them and listening to their stories, I have to admit there are times I cannot help but think to myself, they are so relatable. And they are. But even more, they are inspiring and, even though they don’t feel it or recognize it in themselves, they are brave. It takes courage to find your way in the world and to be authentically who you are. I see that and celebrate that in each of these two incredible young women. Truly, they remind me to embrace myself in similar ways. There is power in accepting who we are created to be. And there is both power and delight in meeting people along our path doing likewise, whether those people are fictional or historical figures or, in my case, your two amazing teenage daughters.