Autism and Sexual Vulnerability-One Woman’s Story

Editor’s note: This story contains details of sexual assault. Reader discretion advised.

The last couple of years have seen a media explosion of pain, confession, opinion and counter-opinion in the wake of the Harvey Weinstein revelations.

The various articles and hashtag movements have been intense, often difficult reads that have highlighted the deeply-rooted, rotten, over-sexualised culture in which we humans inhabit.

There has been much emotion expressed from different perspectives – anger, pain, trauma, regret, shame, solidarity, to name but a few – that it has felt as though a dam has burst for many people: a dam that has been cracked and straining for a long time, just waiting for that last bit of pressure to break it wide open.

There has been criticism of complicity, hypocrisy and cover-ups which may well be valid, but maybe it is better to open a wound late, examine it, and try to heal as individuals and as a wider society, rather than never.

Like many others, I have been deeply affected by this tsunami.

We all come from different backgrounds, experiences and world-views, but this seems to have struck a chord across the boundaries of generation, class, sexual orientation, gender and more. Some of the online activity may have been knee-jerk and clumsily thought out, possibly causing even more pain and difficulty, but to me, it seems that the experiences are so raw and ragged for so many that there was never going to be a perfect way to initiate this most difficult of conversations.

My particular perspective is written from the point of view of an autistic woman, diagnosed in my early 40s. Someone once said, “Write about what you know,” and although I have an imperfect understanding, this alien neurological orientation is what I am starting to know.

It has taken me the last few years to come to terms with this diagnostic bombshell, gain understanding, and start moving through a position of acceptance and now, celebration, of my particular difference.

Part of this time has involved a lot of reflection and exploration of my past, from the decisions I have made and the things I have done, to the events inflicted on me through the lens of the seemingly utter confusion and clumsiness of existence.

I am discovering my true self along the way and key events, especially a recent family bereavement, have unearthed long-buried experiences which I have been seeing with fresher, hopefully better-informed sight.

These new insights may be helpful to others who have had similar experiences. I hope so, as unless our various pathways cross over and offer mutual support, then I don’t really see the point of this life. These various musings can be filed under the broad heading ‘Vulnerability.’

There are many people who are vulnerable and, I am sure, that all of us are in that position at various stages of life. However, as far as I understand from my reading of books written specifically about autistic women, as well as my own experiences, there is a unique kind of vulnerability that is a key feature throughout the majority of our lives.

It is a strange companion.

We grow up as fish out of water; strange, awkward beings who often, at best, hover on the fringes of social interaction. We don’t understand people around us, are often confused and hurt by a response to our behaviour, and can never seem to get ‘it,’ whatever ‘it’ is, quite right.

We are often isolated, lonely and unable to reach out, yet desperate for love, acceptance and human interaction. We misunderstand and are misunderstood so much of the time that it makes us especially vulnerable to all sorts of people, particularly those of a sexually predatory nature.

To set the scene, I’ll give you a bit of background information about my upbringing. We all have different kinds of dynamics growing up, but at the time you assume that your own set up is fairly standard and that this is how family life is for everyone. I have since realised that this is not the case and that my family was not a pleasant one to grow up in.

Women were not valued in my patriarchal existence. Men made the decisions; women and girl children kept quiet if they knew what was good for them. Male children were prized. Unusual, girl children who did not fit a particular mould, were not.

Bullying and favouritism was obvious and emotional communication non-existent. As a rigid, logical thinker, I took on board the clear messages that women existed to serve men; that obedience to men and their needs was a woman’s role in life, and that in order to obtain any love from my father, I had to strive to please him. My parents were unhappy, distant people who were emotionally unavailable to themselves or each other, let alone their children.

I remember being around a peer’s house and feeling confused at seeing them being kissed goodnight or being hugged. This just didn’t happen at home and felt very alien to me. When my parents eventually divorced in my early teens, my father was largely absent and my mother helpfully informed me that it was because he didn’t love me. It was probably a throwaway comment made by a rejected woman sunk in her own misery, but I internalised it and logically it confirmed my own sense of worthlessness and need to people-please.

My mother had said it, therefore it must be true, because parents were always right. If I was going to be loved, I would have to obey the rules and try harder to be lovable.

As a result, I worked hard at school. Was top in most subjects, but I had no real friends. I was a bullied swot who felt far safer studying than socialising, but who masked everything with loudness, bubbliness, and feigned confidence.

Masking, copying others and trying desperately to fit in are key traits of girls growing up with Aspergers. We have no idea of how to behave or how to recognise social cues so we flounder through our teens, judged as weird and feeling lost and lonely. Hard enough with parents who are supportive and loving; virtually impossible with those who are not.

Armed with my set of rules for earning love and approval, I then discovered one day that I was attractive to someone of the opposite sex. It was exciting, and I felt wanted. He singled me out, paid attention to me, and was flattering. I believed everything he said and thought that he was genuinely interested in me.

Men, of course in my head, made the decisions, took the lead, and had to have their needs met, so I allowed him to take me into his hotel bedroom, passively obeying him while he undressed me. I quickly felt out of my depth and wanted it to stop. I tried to verbalise this, but somehow was unable to make myself heard.

My fears and needs were unimportant, and I had to do what the man wanted. I froze, shut down, and disappeared into myself until it was over. I don’t remember much about the aftermath. Leaving the room and going home was a blur. I was fourteen.

I don’t recall feeling very much after that for a while. It was a strange numbness. What had happened didn’t feel right, but it took some time for me to be able to name it as rape. It didn’t feel like rape. I hadn’t been dragged into a dark corner against my will, or pinned down screaming, as I imagined rape to be. It couldn’t be rape because I hadn’t explicitly shouted “no!” or fought him off.

I nevertheless knew that deep down, something was wrong. I was terrified that I might be pregnant, told my mother what had happened and was taken to the GP for a test. It wasn’t mentioned again and life, as it was, continued. There were other boyfriends, always older, and as a precaution I was put on the pill.

Then one day, my step-father confronted me, calling me a whore and a liar. He said that I hadn’t been raped, that he knew the man I had accused, and that if he found out about my lies, then I would be in a lot of trouble. He was my step-father, therefore he must have been right; so I believed I was, indeed, a liar. My feelings were wrong, and he was right.

I was nothing, and I didn’t matter. So, the next time a boyfriend forced himself on me, I just sunk into myself until it was over and didn’t bother telling anyone. What was the point? Nobody would believe a prick-tease like me, and I deserved to be treated like this.

Passive compliance, approval-seeking, and an inability to name any kind of need underpinned my behaviour in all of my relationships from this time onward.
Thirty-three years later, I now know so much more, and my life has changed beyond all recognition.

It is too late to attempt any kind of criminal justice as one perpetrator is dead, and I have no idea of the whereabouts of the others; however, I do have vindication. I understand that my physical and psychological responses to this kind of abuse are recognised, validated reactions, and that I was not responsible for the harm that was done to me.

As a result of these and other experiences, I have been on a long and difficult path from panic attacks, anxiety, depression, and self-harm to a place where I have a much better grasp of the particular vulnerability and social confusion that being autistic in a neurotypical world can cause.

I have good people around me, experience life-affirming love on a daily basis, and have been able to learn how to create safe boundaries to protect myself from dangerous people and situations. I haven’t just survived, I now thrive and embrace the strengths that autism gives me.

All women and girls (and men and non-binary folk) should be safe from sexual predators, but it is important to recognise that women and nonbinary people on the spectrum can be especially prone to abusers, are often seen as easy targets, and can be highly impressionable.

They need effective therapies, support, education, and guidance from loving, caring people throughout their lives in order to experience a fulfilling, rich time on this neurotypical planet. They need and deserve protection.

My hope is that these key moments from my life can add to the growing body of work that seeks to understand what it is like for autistic women and girls and play a small part in helping make the change in attitudes that is needed for all of us to be protected, thrive, and live our best lives.

Related Articles

18 Responses

  1. Hi Sarah, thank you for talking about this under discussed subject. I think as autistic adults we can see how our lives have been shaped by those who are supposedly family.

    I’m 39, diagnosed at 37, sexually abused and raped aged 13/14, I don’t see myself as a ‘survivor’ or a ‘victim’ like those in the #MeToo campaign, I see myself as a vulnerable person who was taken advantage of. It’s only now 25 years on that I am having counselling and I can see the light.

    The abuse has wrecked relationships, a marriage and the way I treated women. Thankfully I’m no longer like that.

    Thank you for sharing.

    1. Hi Anon UK Male, thank you for your comments. I am with you about not feeling like I am a ‘survivor’ or a ‘victim’. When you write about having had your vulnerability being taken advantage of somehow explaining it like this emphasises the deep trauma of it even more. I wish you well on your healing journey.

  2. very very well done Sarah for talking about it .i was abused sexually as a child .people never see the every day effects .there views/judgements are very Snotty Nosed . i take part in a lot lot research . i have M.E bladder/bowel problems because i was abused
    my blog.http;//

    1. Hi Mark, thank you. Your experience and sounds dreadful, but it’s so good that you are open about it. I’ll definitely have a look at your blog.

  3. One psychiatrist told me after I’ve been rape the second time “It’s very unusual to be raped twice” and I felt so wrong about myself. No only did she say that but she made me feel even more strange than I was.

    Years later, at another psychiatrist (who also gave me the diagnosis ASD, general anxiety disorder and recedive depression) , she told me “It’s unfortunately common for girls/women with autism to sexually abused in different ways”. And then I realised I had been sexually abused so many more times than just these two rapes. By random men, by boyfriends and so on.

    Thank you for your text, it made me feel less alone in this.

    1. It’s not unusual for it to happen to boys Multiple times so I’d say the same goes for anyone with Autism. That docs a jerk and your hardships and feelings are valid.

    2. Ah Camila, you are most definitely not alone. It is a sad truth that autistic people are vulnerable to predators. Please know that you have immense worth and this dreadful treatment at the hands of others does not in any way change that.

    3. Ah Camila, you are most definitely not alone. It is a sad truth that autistic people are vulnerable to predators. Please know that you have immense worth and this dreadful treatment at the hands of others does not in any way change that.

  4. Hi Sarah as a contributor I saw a similar article like this and I wish I was capable of writing about my story, and I wish there was a way in which I had your talent and writing an article about how people with Autism in general (not by sex) are at far greater risk of experiencing sexual trauma. I’ve been looking for this article for a while and was unsure whom had written it because I’m currently in a massive case with an individual whom did this to me, and seems like they will get away with it because I’m a boy, what happened to me happened almost a year ago and I’m still not ok.

    Now a year later when my physical health issues worsened, am I fighting her but also a corrupt conduct board which knows I have a disability, after she claimed I broke a no contact order I put against her after during a time when I was in the hospital. The conduct board, who has been targeting me ever since I helped a group of students with their own dissabilities protest unfair treatment and lack of fire evacuation procedures for wheelchair bound students, is openly defending my agressors/rapists behavior when she took advantage of me during a time of crisis when my mental health was poor, and on top of that I was going through a state of non-verbaism during a time of crisis where my trauma induced age regression had worsened and couldn’t express that I was uncomfortable. My friends are backing me have written letters and and also I’m getting a lawyer, but all I wanted was for her to leave me alone. Instead they intend to harass me until my health fails. Theya made me cry and relive the old case , they called me names and ignored all evidence. They changed dates and even falsified a doccuments. Finally despite having said in recording that I was not responsible for her lies about breeching the order that I put in place (which they said I did through a third party that she and the head of the case are friends with a conflict of interest)

    They forged a doccument claiming that I said I was responsible. Apparently to the SUNY Purchase conduct board this justifies my rape the previous semesters, my counseling needed after + violating the ADA by not allowing me to have a representative until the last minute and making me stay in a room while the one running the case threatened and belittled me with bold accusations until I began to cry.

    In reality none of what they’re doing is ok. I wish someone could write about how much this happens to us ALL.

  5. And you know with my experience so fresh, it’s your article that’s kept me going. Because I’m so ashamed that someone was able to do this to me. Your feelings and your story validate all of us who have known this terror. I’ve been in such a dark place but you give me hope,. I’m glad you are one of our writers.

    1. Apologies for not responding sooner. I am horrified at your experience and your ongoing battle. It sounds as though you, thankfully, have good friends around you. Keep writing about it, if it helps you process. Your story is important too and needs telling.

    2. This, my friend, is why I summoned up the courage to write in my own name and not hide in anonymity. Shame is so crushingly powerful and deeply damaging, but the truth is that it belongs to the person who did this to you. Not you…ever. Keep communicating and processing in ways that help you so that not only does your voice gets heard, but that you hear yourself. You have huge worth and your story is incredibly important.

        1. some these views very SNOTTY ..i was abused SEXUALLY BY MEN AND LADIES .TOOK TURNS ON ME ..i have M.E. BLADDER
          AND BOWEL PROBLEMS BECAUSE I WAS ABUSED would any body else cope /deal with this .i am Disabled .feel very very
          ALONE AT MOST TIMES .my story of abuse is in a AUTHORS BOOK. i am not afraid too talk about
          i am about to be CO-AUTHOR OF A BOOK .publishers have passed it .this book does have a title /just waiting for news of WHEN THIS
          BOOK WILL BE PUBLISHED ..the book is about ..Disability and Sex

          1. I think you writing about it is a great idea, it will help sooo many people !

  6. As a teen student, I believe it is crucial to raise awareness and promote understanding about autism. We know how autism affects individuals’ social skills, communication, and behavior. It is important for everyone of us to create an inclusive environment where individuals with autism are treated with respect, acceptance, and provided with the necessary support. However, when this topic becomes related to sexual harassment towards women, it is disheartening to acknowledge that it remains a prevalent issue. Sexual harassment violates a person’s boundaries, autonomy, and dignity. It is vital to educate ourselves and promote a culture of consent, respect, and equality. I read sometimes on free samples on this topic and concluded that we should empower survivors, provide safe spaces, and hold perpetrators accountable for their actions. I am sure that by fostering open conversations and promoting empathy, we can work towards creating a society where all individuals, regardless of gender or neurodiversity, can live without fear of harassment or discrimination.

Talk to us... what are you thinking?

Skip to content
%d bloggers like this: