As a person with a physical disability, I understand how some people may view me only in that way, and not as someone with a less visible neurological condition such as autism. This was the case for most of my childhood, until I officially received my autism diagnosis just prior to turning 18.
Before then, people viewed me only as being blind which, while technically true, is only one part of who I am. When I displayed behaviours that were uncharacteristic of many other blind or vision-impaired people, others assumed it was simply because I had been through a lot as a child.
Several psychologists I saw as a child believed these behaviours were a result of medical and emotional trauma from my cancer treatment, and that I was coping in the way that felt safest to me.
Even so, my parents always suspected I may have autism. I showed traits commonly associated with autistic children, including frequent overwhelm in certain environments, occasional tantrums or meltdowns when things didn’t go as expected, partially anti-social tendencies, and intense interests in things such as lifts, trains, and toys that were atypical of other children.
I have written about these experiences in more detail in separate articles.
During school, I often felt disconnected from my peers, not just because of my blindness. I knew there was something different about me, something that others found strange or felt sorry for, but I couldn’t explain it beyond my physical condition.
I struggled to fully connect with friends through shared interests. I would spend time with them, but rarely engage deeply in the things they enjoyed. I have spoken about my childhood social experiences in another article.
As part of a curriculum program for blind and vision-impaired students, I attended group sessions with a psychologist specialising in vision impairment and social skills.
Because of his experience, he was able to identify my undiagnosed autistic traits and informed my parents that he suspected I may be autistic.
It took another five years before I began seeing a psychologist who specialised in behavioural conditions. Within minutes, she recognised that autism was a likely explanation, rather than childhood trauma as previously suggested.
After years of working on behaviours and social skills with her, and with the support of a paediatrician and speech pathologist, I finally received an official autism diagnosis.
It may have taken nearly a decade, but finally we had validation. To this day, I still see the same psychologist, and I am deeply grateful for her support and for helping bring clarity after years of uncertainty.
I can now reflect on my childhood with understanding. The tantrums, meltdowns, and overwhelm were not simply due to blindness or trauma. They were signs of underlying autism that went unnoticed by many.
For anyone experiencing a similar situation, please know you are not alone. If you suspect a child may be autistic or have another neurological condition, it is okay to question, to seek multiple opinions, and to advocate for understanding.
It is important to support your child’s needs and to recognise how others may perceive and treat them based on their behaviour.
— Sam Valavanis
A List Ambassador
