Fortune Cookie Rant: "Uniqueness"

Fortune cookie: "Your uniqueness is more than an outward experience."

I went to a Chinese buffet this week.  This came out of my fortune cookie.  I think the creator of this "fortune" (note: not a fortune, not even advice) meant to be complimentary.  Like, "I, this little scrap of paper with some semblance of cultural authority, written by some American wherever this cookie was produced, believe you (a stranger I've never met) to be truly unique."  In fact, when I showed it to the friend I'd gone to the buffet with, that's exactly how they took it. 

Me?  I looked at the little scrap of paper, scowled, and said, "Well DUH.  Ugh." 

So here's the thing about being autistic and being able to blend in somewhat.  Short of when you're alone, you pretty much never get to forget about it.  You are always measuring how you're doing, how you're interacting with others, how others are interacting with you, what the environment is like, etc.  This is not, frankly, an enviable position, and I don't enjoy being in it.  I recognize it as a necessary evil in order to keep the broad neurotypical majority comfortable, so they'll treat me like I'm a human rather than a child or something subhuman. 

Think I'm being harsh?  Here, read this.  Or this.  Or even this.  Autistic lives are lost all the time to situations like this.  What doesn't usually make the news is the other costs of not fitting in.  Things like not being able to keep a job, and being unable to find friends.  The depression and anxiety that come with those situations piles complications on top of an already complicated life. 

Humans are pulled two ways, in terms of this question.  We're a social species.  We like to fit in, to be understood, to be part of a community (sameness).  But we also like to stand apart in good ways, be valuable for ourselves, be unique (difference).  Two sides of a line spectrum.  Most people fall somewhere in the middle.  I fall somewhere towards the "uniqueness" side and farther away from the "fits in" side.

I got my diagnosis about a decade ago.  After I finished being confused about how the DSM criteria didn't really describe me, I experienced a deep surge of despair and bitterness.  I'd spent from about age 10 to about age 20 trying to learn how to fit in, without compromising myself too much.  Receiving my diagnosis was the death knell for my hopes of ever finding some place to fit in.  I'd tried very hard, but the answer was that it was never going to be enough. 

Am I unique?  Absolutely.  Everyone is to some extent.  No two humans are the same.  Am I more distinctively unique than most?  Probably.  I have a strong personality and will, definite viewpoints and opinions, interests, etc.  I don't need a fortune cookie to tell me I'm a unique person.  Mostly, it just underlines to me how different I'm always going to be. 

My best hope is to try to build a world where it's not so isolating to be so unique.