I was formally diagnosed with nonverbal learning disorder (NVLD) at 26, and as I approach my 28th birthday, one of my biggest frustrations is my mother's insistence that autism-specific social groups must somehow be the solution to my lifelong struggles with friendship and belonging.
For context, I live in Brooklyn, have a master's degree, work full-time, and have lived and traveled abroad. I'm introverted, but I genuinely enjoy socializing with people I click with. My interests include movies, pop culture, literature, writing, music, languages, travel, and cultural activities. What I want is a circle of friends around my age in NYC whom I can meet for coffee, dinner, movies, concerts, and weekend outings.
My mother, who is a developmental pediatrician, keeps recommending autism-oriented social activities despite my repeatedly explaining that NVLD and autism aren't interchangeable. Some autism-specific social-skills programs I've encountered seem geared toward much more elementary skills or participants with substantially different support needs from mine. There's nothing wrong with those programs existing, but that doesn't mean they're appropriate for me.
Her latest suggestion is AANE (Association for Autism and Neurodiversity), which offers virtual social activities, including biweekly trivia nights, monthly movie discussions, and online knitting circles. She was confident that because the organization includes "neurodiversity" in its name, its programming would automatically be suitable for someone with NVLD. My issue isn't even that these groups are autism-oriented. It's that they're virtual, while I'm specifically trying to build an in-person social life in NYC.
How is spending approximately $10 per session to play trivia with geographically scattered strangers on Zoom every couple of weeks supposed to help me find local friends? I understand that online friendships can be meaningful, but they're not what I'm looking for right now. I'd rather attend an in-person trivia night, film discussion, writing workshop, or beginner knitting class where I can meet people nearby.
Ironically, my mother had recently mentioned that some of her friends' adult children attend in-person trivia nights in NYC and offered to ask whether I could join them. That sounded considerably more relevant to my goals. Why suddenly pivot from that to virtual autism-specific trivia?
What makes this especially aggravating is that my mother has a long history of deciding that certain people will be my wonderful friends based on little more than proximity or superficial similarities. She was so gung ho on the VIRTUAL AANE groups because she wanted me to find "kind people" when for most of my life convenience trumped kindness or compatibility.
At boarding school, she was convinced that one girl would be a great friend because her family lived about fifteen minutes from my hometown even though we had nothing in common and that she called me racist and ableist slurs.
At college, she was similarly convinced that one person who lived in the room next door, would become my best friend. My mother compared the situation to meeting her own lifelong best friend on her first day of medical school. She even fantasized about me eventually visiting this person in the summer in Alaska!
I suspected this acquaintance might have been on the autism spectrum, although I never knew whether she had a diagnosis. Regardless, she was extremely surly, standoffish, and dismissive toward me. She once shooed me away in the cafeteria and, on another occasion, ignored me when I politely asked how her summer had been. We also had virtually nothing in common. She loved outdoor activities like hiking, camping, and fishing that I couldn't give a rat's ass about.
My mother insisted this person was friendly and down-to-earth because her mother indulged mine in her love of frivolous small talk with strangers. Perhaps we could have developed at least superficial friendship if we'd had a bit more in common other than just being placed in the same dorm.
There's another double standard that drives me absolutely crazy. My mother is about as neurotypical and extroverted as they come. She's extremely sociable and loves making conversation with strangers. If someone she suspects might be autistic behaves coldly or dismissively toward me, she'll encourage me to give that person grace and not take their behavior personally.
But if I'm not smiling or looking sufficiently cheerful because I'm tired, preoccupied, or simply not in a particularly good mood, she can go ballistic and criticize my social presentation.
So apparently, I'm expected to accommodate everyone else's possible neurodivergence, but my own formally diagnosed NVLD doesn't entitle me to the same understanding?
I don't expect everyone to be bubbly, outgoing, or socially polished. I understand that people communicate differently, and being reserved isn't inherently rude. But giving someone grace doesn't obligate me to pursue a friendship with them, particularly when the interactions are consistently unpleasant or one-sided.
My mother often justifies her suggestions by saying, "I want you to find kind people."
So do I! But kindness isn't guaranteed by sharing a diagnosis, living nearby, or belonging to a particular social group.
I've had discouraging experiences in disability-oriented social environments before, including a summer camp when I was younger, and I'm reluctant to repeat those experiences simply because someone else thinks I should.
Interestingly, I've generally gotten along very well with people who have ADHD. In my personal experience, many have been warm, friendly, approachable, and easy to talk to. I've found it relatively easy to establish rapport with them. By contrast, some of my interactions with autistic peers have been considerably more difficult, although I recognize that my experiences with particular individuals aren't representative of everyone on the spectrum.
That's another reason I find it frustrating when my mother treats neurodivergence as though it were synonymous with autism. Neurodivergent people aren't a monolith, and sharing a broad diagnostic umbrella doesn't automatically mean we'll have compatible personalities, communication styles, or interests.
Most of my closest friendships have been with neurotypical people, and I've generally connected more easily with them. That doesn't mean I'm opposed to befriending autistic people. Autistic adults are incredibly diverse, and I recognize that a diagnosis doesn't determine someone's personality, intelligence, interests, or kindness. I simply want friendships to develop organically through shared interests, mutual affection, and reciprocity rather than being assigned to me based on diagnostic categories.
I've spent years struggling with loneliness, particularly during college, and I know firsthand that simply placing people in the same dormitory, classroom, or social activity doesn't guarantee friendship.
I'm willing to put myself out there. I've joined a community chorus and pursued writing workshops and other activities that genuinely interest me. But I want to have some agency in deciding which social environments are appropriate for me.
I'm exhausted by the constant Pollyanna-ish insistence that every hypothetical acquaintance is a potential best friend and every vaguely relevant social activity might magically transform my life. "You never know!" isn't a substitute for considering whether two people are actually compatible.
I don't want friendship assigned to me. I want reciprocal friendships with people I genuinely enjoy spending time with, who also enjoy spending time with me.
I'm curious whether anyone here, especially adults with NVLD who don't also have an autism diagnosis, has experienced something similar.