Reading the room and social expectations

or: the mammoth sewing project....

It's been a very busy month, with loads going on, which is why I haven't had time to write a blog post in some time. What with trying to manage my daughter's social life, my music commitments at church, and the new toddler group I set up in April, not to mention the end of year events happening at my daughter's school. Life has been really rather a fast-paced marathon lately. But there have been several things lately that have made me realise that my (autistic) perspective may well be different from other people's.

Time for the elephants in the room

Just before the end of term, I offered to make some toy elephants for my daughter and her friends to mark the end of Year 6. They were to be made from old summer dresses with a little contrasting fabric I had in my stash. I was keen to do something to mark the transition from Junior school and it was met with great enthusiasm from my daughter.

So far, so good. But then I made what proved to be a big misstep... I offered in the year group WhatsApp to make some elephants for other people as well. I was expecting one or two replies, but by the day after I posted, it had reached 37.

I found myself faced with a social situation that I didn't know how to navigate. Whilst I was happy to make the elephants, I only had 2 weeks to make them, and at a rate of about 2 per day, it was not going to be possible to make one for everyone. I then had the question of payment - when I was making them for my daughter's friends, I was going to make them as gifts. But other parents started to suggest paying for them, which I was unprepared for. I tried asking for a nominal amount and then one or two people wanted to pay more. Then some people started to pay in advance, adding to the pressure. I found myself floundering as I hate saying no to people, especially as I hadn't actually met all of the parents who had responded (and some of whom had also paid in advance).

Fortunately, one of the parents who I know fairly well, the dad of one of my daughter's friends, stepped in. He posted in the WhatsApp group that each elephant would take me around 1-2 hours to make, and that I may be too nice to say that it was rather more interest than expected. This gave me the possibility to consider how to approach it and how best to fulfil as many requests as I felt able.

The result of this was to set up a separate WhatsApp chat for people to join if they wanted an elephant made for them, and then for me to (slightly hesitantly) ask for a little more money than I had previously been asking for. I decided to set a day when I would stop sewing, rather than a target number, and I was not going to make any at weekends. This was partly to give me some time away from the project, as I knew that it was becoming all-consuming (there was a point where I was making them in my dreams!), but also to make sure that I spent more time with my family. I conveyed this to the group, and was met with a positive response. The general feeling was far from the demanding consumer response that I had in my head, and much more compassionate and understanding than I had picked up on. 

I was very proud of myself for deciding to set some boundaries. I felt that it was important to lay down my expectations and what I thought was going to be reasonable in terms of my capacity to make as many of the elephants as I could. I still wanted to do as many as I could, but it helped me to give myself permission to stop. Every day my daughter was at school, I spent making elephants or cutting out pieces to make more. In the end, I made 28 elephants, and will probably make more at some point.

What I learned from this experience

The really interesting thing that I learned from the whole experience was that I had assumed that I had to fulfil every order, as soon as possible, and that I was somehow going to let everyone down if I didn't. I also felt embarrassed at my rather humble skills being treated as some kind of expert professional level sewing ability, and that the payment somehow meant that I was expected to do a perfect job. I didn't think about the time it took to make each elephant or making any kind of profit - I was just looking at the cost of extra stuffing and other materials I may need.

But the other parents had different opinions. They told me I should have asked for considerably more money per elephant. They were kind and understanding when I explained how many requests I had had, and how I would not be able to make all of them before the end of term. They liked my elephants, in spite of the fact that each one was subtly different or slightly wonky in one way or another. Some even said that I had skills that they didn't, and that I had done a really impressive thing. Those whose orders could not be made in time were kind and understanding about my needing to take a break during the school holidays, even saying that they were glad that I was going to take some time off.

I have learned that my skills are valued more than I realise, and that I need not shy away from valuing myself more. I can and should speak up for myself more, and setting boundaries is important. During my younger life I have tended too much towards people-pleasing and not being able to say no, but this is not good for me, and by extension, not good for my family either.

What I think about the future

I feel that being autistic can make us vulnerable to being taken advantage of due to not being able to figure out where to set boundaries or read what might be the response from others. It's important that we learn to recognise how to protect ourselves and how to keep ourselves from being trampled on by our interpretation of others' expectations, whether or not we have read the room correctly. This is a work in progress for all of us, myself included. I hope to apply the learning from my experiences in the coming weeks and months ahead.