Letters of Love

Dear Temple 

My life has always been guided by the objective to reduce suffering of all forms of life. Your book “the autistic brain” has had a transformational impact on my life that, once flourishing, started crumbling several years ago and culminated in a complete collapse. Three years ago, I had a complete burnout and decided to inscribe myself into a psychiatric hospital. It was there that I was first diagnosed at the age of 40 to be on the autistic spectrum. Upon reading your book, watching your movie and consuming all available traces of your life, I discovered my own life in your journey. I was born in Switzerland in 1980 as a child of an Egyptian mother and father who did everything they could to help me prosper. My mother was and remains the most important person in my life. She knew early on that I was different. 

“He didn't play soccer. He didn't communicate much and shied away from direct eye contact. He connected less with other children and somehow lived in his own world. His own circle. He was fascinated. By fire. By moving objects. By planes, which were taking off every day from the nearby airport. Instead of playdates with other kids, he went to the end of the runway every weekend where he would spend hours watching planes take off, land, taxi and take off again. Back home, he started painting them. Almost obsessively. All different airlines. In all shapes, from all perspectives.” 

Like you, It was my mother who was a shining guiding light at every point in my life. Always supporting me. Encouraging me. To paint. To express myself. In the way that felt comfortable. She encouraged me to draw and paint airplanes whilst pushing me to explore the world beyond my fixation, my obsession with airplanes. She encouraged me to display my art, countless drawings of airplanes, on the walls of our small apartment near the runway of the airport, and suggested that I sell my drawings to friends and guests visiting our home for a nominal amount of ‘zehn Rappen’, the equivalent of ten cents. It was the first of many countless acts of trying to nurture my passion while stretching me beyond my comfort zone as I kept entering new portals of my evolving life.  

This was the starting point of my blossoming in life.  Having a successful journey from elementary school to the gymnasium to higher education at the universities of Zurich, Geneva and Bruges leading up to fulfill my lifelong dream to reach Washington, DC, in 2007, where I would spend the next 14 years at the World Bank to prosper as an economist and young man. The period of blossoming and discovery would gradually be overshadowed by the increasing demands of my professional life as, over time, I increasingly struggled to reconcile the demands of a successful professional career with my essence, my aspirations, my dreams, my brain. That was. On one hand. Full of curiosity. And desire to keep exploring new things. New worlds, new subjects, new countries. New cultures. And on the other side, of my brain that was longing for continuity. For stability. For sameness. And as time grew. The distance between who I was and who I aspired to be kept changing, kept growing, kept blossoming in dreams that continued to face the reality of our world. Until it reached that moment where my body, already in pain from the constant wildfires in my heart, came to a halt. I inscribed myself into a psychiatric hospital after experiencing a full blown burnout. As I was unable to get out of bed. To read an e-mail. To pay a bill. To respond to a phone call. To talk. To my friends. To my family. To myself. It was then when I started to discover myself. Prior to that burnout, many years ago, I had first been diagnosed with ADHD. The description of the symptoms seemed to fit me perfectly well. A restless hyperactive brain that was in constant search for the ultimate discovery. And it was the very same brain that kept being distracted from fulfilling the endless flow of ideas, hopes and dreams that kept growing, nurtured by all the influences of life that kept accumulating more and more. Years before, my physician had actually suggested the possibility that I may be autistic. And when I looked up what this would mean, I found the following description: Restrictive and repetitive behaviors. Very narrow focus on very few topics. Sensory problems. I did not see myself in that description and I rejected the very possibility of this simplified behavioral profile as it did not capture the complexity of my human state. The description of autism was very narrow. Very negative. Focusing on problems, failures rather than differences of my unusual nature which I viewed as beauty in diversity and strength in equal terms. As a result, I did not pursue the thought of being autistic further and didn’t bother reading or learning what being autistic actually means. And I continued to progress in my path to become a successful young man in the professional world. The medication that I received to manage my ADHD in navigating my professional life helped me a lot. To focus. To prioritize. To manage requirements of my job that required me to be a good planner, a good executive which always seemed engaged in an eternal struggle with that other side of my brain that was going in all sorts of directions following its incessant thirst for new discoveries and connections. But I sensed early on that medications were a remedy to function in a life, a system, an environment that kept increasing the distance between who I was and who I aspired to be. 

It took a complete burnout, culminating in my physical and mental collapse and inscription to a psychiatric ward, to finally confront myself with the possibility of another diagnosis. That was missing, or perhaps, I was rejecting. The diagnosis of autism. But something happened in between. In the midst of the burnout. I started reading, and watching, and listening and learning more about autism. And that's how I stumbled upon your story, your life, your speeches and writings, your book. And I ended up consuming every speech, every article, every traceable piece of writing, every speech, every communication that I could find of you. Because it was for the first time that I felt that someone truly understood who I was. It helped me understand not only myself, but my entire family, starting with my mother.

My mother. An autistic woman. Dedicating her entire life to nurture life. Her siblings. Her dad. Her mom. My dad. My brother. My sister. And myself. But I also discovered that my father was autistic. And I was surprised by that discovery because their two personalities always seemed so diametrically opposed to each other. Like you, like myself, my mom was a visual thinker. An object visualizer. Good at mechanics. Fixing things. My dad, despite being trained as an engineer, was horrible at fixing things and would often break any item needing repair despite being an engineer by training. He was, however, very good at thinking in abstract ways. My mom was always very curious and would approach random strangers on the beach, always keen to listen and understand their histories, their life journeys, their stories. In that regard, I was much more like my dad. Shying away from eye contact. From approaching strangers. More introvert. More introspective. More silent. And it was only when I read your book, the autistic brain, that I started not only to understood what autism is, but also what it means to me and how it has formed, albeit unknowingly, the perception of myself, my mom, my dad, my siblings, my mentors, teachers, friends, relatives, the entire world around me that I was so deeply connected to while often feeling distant, isolated, disconnected from it all. Discovering my autistic self helped me appreciate and heal all relationships. Not only to and between members of my family. But also with my coworkers. With my friends. With the entire world that I was surrounded with. 

You describe the autistic mind as a spectrum that can go from nonverbal - People who cannot speak, walk or dress themselves – all the way to the geniuses of Elon Musk, Einstein and yourself, the grand Temple. I discovered myself on that continuum. Because I too was born as a non-verbal child who seemed caught yet fully content in my own circle of life. I only started to engage and connect with other children because I was gently pushed to branch out beyond my comfort zone of drawing and observing airplanes by a relentless autistic mother who dedicated her entire life to raising me. A mother who refused to give up on me, the absent-minded child who was more interested in plants, animals, water, fire and flying objects than all humans around him. A child who would not listen to commands, constantly walk and run away, play with water and fire, and almost obsessively paint and observe airplanes. Instead of suppressing my curiosity and passion for aviation and drawing, she kept nurturing and encouraging my special interests while pushing me gently but steadily to keep expanding my horizon beyond my little world. It was her relentless dedication to nurturing life that planted the seed of my transformation. From the child that was only interested in drawing airplanes - to read, learn, engage, work, travel and engage with humans from all nations, religions, cultures and beliefs. 

The diagnosis did not only transform my present, but also helped me understand my past. The diagnosis illuminated my understanding of pain, anxiety, and stress that had been a companion of my life alongside my ever burning fire of curiosity and discovery. Much of the recurring pain, manifested in anxiety, panic attacks and inflammations all over my body, was ignited by my incessant desire to conform, to fit in, to perform, to excel in a world that is not understanding or accommodating to the needs and purpose of human nature. I navigated the storms for years, I was successful as I learned to mirror the requirements of the constructed ideal man, but at a high burn rate. It was only after my burnout that I started to realize that I was not alone. The pain and stresses of our world carries a heavy price that is mostly felt by women. Mothers. Daughters. Sisters. I saw the heavy responsibilities, the violence, the disenfranchisement, the carelessness and recklessness of human kind mirrored in the untold experiences and life stories of the women in my life. Reflected in the journey of my mother. My sister. And so many other women who crossed my path. Who are caught in the cage of life with no boundaries in sight. Unaware of their true nature, their sensory and sensual attributes of their unique nature. Of their beautiful neurodiversity. Most of them remain invisible as they were taught since they were little girls to perform. And while most of them do, they are struggling. They are suffering. They are functioning, but at a very high burn rate.

This brings me back to one core element which keeps coming up in your talks. On the value of receiving a diagnosis. You also observe the massive unreached potential that many autistic humans fail to reach because they did not have the privilege of a relentless warrior who kept nurturing us to life against all odds. Millions of autistic humans who would have an amazing ability to contribute to life but remain trapped in the confines of a narrow world that wouldn’t enable the conditions for them to blossom. Buried in their basements playing video games on repeat unable to reach the real world. Unable to free themselves of their imprisoned vegetative state of repeating video games, abusive relationships, violence and wars. I understand your call to avoid labels in the context of these young men who are shielded and shielding themselves behind a label which appears to hinder them from reaching their full potential to contribute to our world. Your call to avoid labels which keep us confined in our mediocre vegetative illusions of welfare. But I would like to offer a different perspective

You observe that autistic people are all around us without being aware of their neurdiversity. A lot of them are successful professionals, wealthy executives, influential politicians, actors and decision makers who are shaping our world. Who are functioning in life, but, perhaps like my past self, do so at a very high burn rate. To themselves. And the people, plants and animals around them. I observe the sadness. And lost opportunities. Of all those. Men and women. That have not had the privilege. Of a relentless. Power mother. Stretching their boundaries. Leading them to. A path of blossoming. And freedom. But this is precisely why I believe that the diagnosis of autism is not a burden but key to the liberation of a world that remains stuck in the grip of toxic masculinity and self hate repeatedly inflicting destruction and harm to life. It could help reconnect those millions of autistic humans stuck in self-destructive habits and cycle to break away and heal themselves, their past traumas, their current wounds, and all the harm they, most often unknowingly, Inflict on themselves. And all life surrounding them. 

I would like to dedicate the next chapter of my life to help ease the pain and suffering of all humans, animals, plants and organisms that are burning with us. I would like to help us reconnect with our nature, heal or past present wounds which we carry with us. Learning about autism has had a transformational impact on my life and all life connected to it. The world is full of stories of increased self discovery and compassion through awareness, starting with your own which was instrumental to me and so many other humans.  Since the very first day that I read your book, my biggest dream has been to meet you. To work with you and other autistic sisters and brothers to increase awareness about autism.To help ease the pain on all those who did not have the same privilege of a nurturing mother fighting for our lives against all odds and at a very high cost. Your story paved the way for my awareness and diagnosis, which planted the seed for my own transformation. It helped me to better understand and reconnect with myself. With my family, with my friends. It helped me heal my relationships, even with my biggest enemies and all those who hurt and inflicted pain on me and others. And I. I know that. If we can enable the millions of undiagnosed autistic humans who are still suffering to experience the same transformation towards self discovery and healing, the world would be a better place. For all those sisters and brothers who are succeeding in life, holding positions of power, but being held back. Entrapped in their dark histories of unhealed trauma of pain. Of self-hate and rejection. If we can reach their minds and hearts, the world could be a better place. Temple Grandin, thank you for paving the way for our path to autistic and human discovery.

Teymour Abdel Aziz, 31 January 2024