The History of Autism: My Perspective as an Autistic Person
Autism has always been part of the human experience, but for a long time, no one had a name for it. My journey with autism has been deeply personal. For years, I navigated life feeling different, struggling to fit into expectations that never quite made sense to me. When my children, Arianna and David, were diagnosed as autistic, I dove into learning everything I could to support them. In that process, I discovered something life-changing—I am autistic too.
Understanding my own autism helped me make sense of so many things: why I process the world the way I do, why certain environments overwhelm me, and why I’ve always had an intense drive to learn and explore deeply. More importantly, it gave me the ability to support my children in ways that truly honor who they are. My mission became clear—to change the way the world sees autism. Instead of focusing on deficits and labels, I want to help shift the conversation toward acceptance, understanding, and empowerment.
Before Autism Had a Name
Long before autism was recognized, people like me existed. Throughout history, there have been individuals who showed deep focus on specific interests, preferred solitude, or interacted with the world differently. Some were celebrated for their genius, while others were misunderstood or even ostracized.
Back then, society didn’t have the words to describe autism. Instead, differences in thinking, behavior, and communication were often misinterpreted as supernatural, medical, or psychological issues. Many autistic people were isolated or pressured to conform, which often led to pain and confusion.
How Autism Got Its Name
In 1911, psychiatrist Eugen Bleuler used the term "autism"—but he was referring to a symptom of schizophrenia. It wasn’t until the 1940s that two doctors, Leo Kanner and Hans Asperger, described autism as its own condition.
Kanner studied young children who struggled with social interaction and repetitive behaviors. Asperger focused on older children who had strong intellectual abilities but difficulty with social norms. The frustrating part? Asperger’s work wasn’t widely acknowledged for decades, which slowed the understanding that autism exists on a spectrum.
Harmful Theories That Set Us Back
For a long time, people misunderstood autism. One of the worst theories was the “Refrigerator Mother” idea in the 1950s, which blamed mothers for causing autism by being emotionally distant. This was completely false, but it caused unnecessary guilt for parents and made it even harder for autistic people to get support.
During this time, many autistic individuals were institutionalized, treated as if they were broken or needed to be "fixed." The goal was to make us act “normal” instead of understanding and supporting us for who we are.
Autism as a Spectrum
Thankfully, by the 1980s and 1990s, researchers started understanding autism better. They realized it wasn’t a single condition but a spectrum, meaning autistic people can have a wide range of strengths and challenges.
In 2013, the DSM-5 officially recognized autism as a spectrum, combining diagnoses like Asperger’s Syndrome under one umbrella. While this helped acknowledge autism’s diversity, it also erased some terms that people found helpful in describing their experiences.
The Neurodiversity Movement: A Shift in Perspective
Everything changed in the late 1990s and early 2000s when autistic people started speaking up. This led to the neurodiversity movement, which challenges the idea that autism is something to “cure.” Instead, it sees autism as a natural way of thinking and existing—one that deserves respect, not pity or correction.
Activists like Jim Sinclair and Judy Singer helped shift the conversation. Instead of trying to "fix" autistic people, society began to recognize autism as part of who we are. Organizations like the Autistic Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) continue to fight for autistic rights today.
Where We Are Now
We’ve made progress, but there’s still a long way to go. Many people still view autism negatively or assume it means we can’t live full, happy lives. The truth? We don’t need fixing—we need understanding, acceptance, and accommodations that help us thrive in a world that wasn’t built for us.
By learning about autism from autistic people, you’re helping to create a more inclusive world. Autism isn’t a tragedy—it’s just a different way of experiencing life, and that difference should be embraced, not erased.
