In a late-life romance, Eleanor marries Lars, a brilliant database expert, believing their fairy-tale love will last forever. However, just months later Eleanor finds herself in COVID-19 lock-down with her new husband as he loses his job and pulls away from her with angry outbursts. Day by day their marriage fractures. As Eleanor’s fears about Lars’s autistic profile are heightened, she struggles to understand him and their growing conflict. Even as both partners are diagnosed with cancer, Eleanor fights for what she hopes is possible in their marriage and encourages Lars to do the same—that is until Lars refuses to work with an autism coach to improve their communication and Eleanor must decide whether she will give up her dream of happiness and, if so, how.
Disconnected powerfully portrays the obstacles neurodiverse couples must overcome to keep their love alive. It will resonate with anyone who struggles to grasp how even the closest bonds can break, and then must create a new life.
My goal is to create stories that engage, move, and uplift readers. I want my protagonists to stumble and overcome against all odds to be ordinary people dealing with extraordinary circumstances. As it turns out, life has dealt me a few of those.
I am the author of two books, Disconnected: Portrait of a Neurodiverse Marriage and Swimming with Maya: A Mother’s Story. Both books are memoirs, and both are ultimately about love and loss.
Disconnected, my most recent book, is a fierce, funny, and compassionate look at my late-in-life marriage to a man on the autism spectrum and the heartbreak of its end. It is a 2025 Eric Hoffer Award finalist for memoir.
My other book, Swimming with Maya: A Mother’s Story, describes the death of my 19-year-old daughter in a horse-riding accident and the subsequent donation of Maya’s organs to strangers in need. Meeting the man who received Maya’s heart, and the story of our ensuing friendship, gives readers an inside look at how organ donation affects grief recovery. It’s a New York Times bestseller and was nominated for the Independent Publisher of the Year award.
Graeme Simsion’s Don Tillman trilogy tells the odd-couple story of an autistic professor and how he falls in love with and marries a wholly unsuitable neurotypical woman. He turns this situation into romantic comedy. For Eleanor Vincent, it wasn’t so funny. She met her third husband, computer scientist Lars (a pseudonym), through Zydeco dancing when she was in her sixties. Though aware that he could be unemotional and act strangely, she found him chivalrous and sweet. They dated for a time but he hurt and confused her by asking for his apartment keys back. After a five-year period she calls their “Interregnum,” the two got back together and married. Despite their years of friendship, she was completely unprepared for what living with him would be like. “At the age of seventy-one, I had married a stranger,” she writes.
It didn’t help that Covid hit partway through their four-year marriage, nor that they each received a cancer diagnosis (cervical vs. prostate). But the problems were more with their everyday differences in responses and processing. During their courtship, she ignored some bizarre things he did around her family: he bit her nine-year-old granddaughter as a warning of what would happen if she kept antagonizing their cat, and he put a gift bag over his head while they were at the dinner table with her siblings. These are a couple of the most egregious instances, but there are examples throughout of how Lars did things she didn’t understand. Through support groups and marriage counselling, she realized how well Lars had masked his autism when they were dating – and that he wasn’t willing to do the work required to make their marriage succeed. The book ends with them estranged but a divorce imminent.
If this were purely carping about a husband’s weirdness, it might have been tedious or depressing. But Vincent doesn’t blame Lars, and she incorporates so much else in this short memoir, including a number of topics that are of particular interest to me. There’s her PTSD from a traumatic upbringing, her parents’ identity as closeted gay people, the complications around her father’s death, the tragedy of her older daughter’s death, as well as the more everyday matters of being a working single parent, finding an affordable property in California’s Bay Area, and blending households.
Vincent crafts engaging scenes with solid recreated dialogue, and I especially liked the few meta chapters revealing “What I Left Out” – a memoir is always a shaped narrative, while life is messy; this shows both. She is also honest about her own failings and occasional bad behavior. I probably could have done with a little less detail on their sex life, however.
This had more relevance to me than expected. While my sister and I were clearing our mother’s belongings from the home she shared with her second husband for the 16 months between their wedding and her death, our stepsisters mentioned to us that they suspected their father was autistic. It was, as my sister said, a “lightbulb” moment, explaining so much about our respective parents’ relationship, and our interactions with him as well. My stepfather (who died just 10 months after my mother) was a dear man, but also maddening at times. A retired math professor, he was logical and flat of affect. Sometimes his humor was off-kilter and he made snap, unsentimental decisions that we couldn’t fathom. Had they gotten longer together, no doubt many of the issues Vincent experienced would have arisen.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
This is an intimate and powerful look into the struggles and triumphs of a neurodiverse relationship, written by a neurotypical woman married to a neurodivergent man.
I think this book offers such valuable insights into the dynamics of neurodiverse relationships, making it an educational read for those unfamiliar with autism and its impact on personal relationships.
"Even though part of me knew better, I wanted to believe that life was predictable. But as the many experts I’d read on autism pointed out, being married to a neurodivergent spouse meant living with the unexpected. You had to be willing to be surprised over and over, and not necessarily in a good way."
Vincent writes about the communication barriers that often arise in neurodiverse relationships. Her struggle to understand Lars’ perspective and his difficulty in expressing his emotions are central themes that resonate throughout the book.
While the memoir is primarily from Vincent’s perspective, I think Lars’ character is portrayed with sensitivity.
Whether you’re in a neurodiverse relationship or simply looking to broaden your understanding of autism and its impact on personal relationships, this book offers valuable lessons and heartfelt inspiration.
Thanks to BookSirens for the digital ARC of this book. The ARC no way impacts the rating of the book and all of my reviews contain my honest opinions.
I’m not happy to admit that I related so easily to this book. I had my own 22 year marriage to an excellent surgeon who was a bumbling husband and father. He didn’t participate. So, it is sadly comforting to read about, and flashback, to my own early life. But, Eleanor, we are surviving!
Ticket for One – Disconnected: Portrait of a Neurodiverse Marriage, Eleanor Vincent’s memoir of her late-in-life marriage to an autistic spouse, is a roller coaster ride of emotions. From a fairytale beginning that literally and figuratively dances on the page, Vincent plummets back to earth when the relationship abruptly ends, soars when it’s reignited, and then settles into the hard work of navigating a trip for two when only one person holds a ticket. With honesty, she recounts her excitement and frustration, hope and anger, and eventual acceptance that the gaps in wiring between her neurotypical brain and his neurodivergent one cannot be bridged. Although she writes from her perspective, Vincent is as fair-minded and nonjudgmental as she can be toward her ex-spouse. As a fiction writer who aims to elicit empathy for even the most challenging characters (see my Goodreads author page https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...), I admire Vincent’s ability to enhance the reader’s understanding of Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). The final emotion as the roller coaster comes to a stop is regret for the inevitable. Her husband is who he was born to be as surely as she must be true to her own nature. And after she unstraps and exits the carnival car, hope returns that the next ticket Vincent buys will take her on a rewarding journey, whether or not she’s with a fellow traveler.
Reading Eleanor Vincent’s “Disconnected,” her just-released memoir about navigating the loving, but ultimately doomed late-in-life marriage to her autistic husband, was like viewing the beautiful interplay between oil and water: the two flowing around one another, but never connecting.
The author makes clear the many goodnesses her husband possesses: his amazing skill as a zydeco dance partner, his ability to solve technical problems, his love of art and reading. Yet she also describes her own need for emotional connection through the kind of intimate conversations that lead to understanding, the very thing her husband can’t offer.
Rather than attribute negativity to either him or herself, the author does a wonderful job of honestly portraying their love for one another, as well as why neither could continue in a relationship beyond their emotional wherewithal. And while no marriage is easy, the story shows the extra pressures placed on both partners in neurodiverse relationships.
As the daughter of an undiagnosed neurodiverse dad, I strongly related to that combination of obvious love, yet significant emotional distance. Having more stories like this in the world really helps us learn about — and heal — our own family dynamics.
A cynical opinion would be that Vincent had been hoodwinked into her third marriage, yet it overlooks so much raw nuance and emotional reaching from Vincent. I greatly appreciated that Vincent didn't paint herself as a victim; nor is she blaming the autism entirely for their relationship's decline. I think the memoir's heart is universal.
Realizing that the steps for repair is only feeding a black hole of no's is a dreadful experience to live through if you want to save. No matter the circumstances, the age, the prestige. And I respect Vincent for having the comfort, the humor, and the humility to capture it with grace and purpose. This was a struggle for me to finish, but in a good way. A way that wanted me to slow down and reflect.
I would have liked less details about their sex life and perhaps some words of perspective from the husband's side, although I know that that is not always possible in a memoir. Glad to have read this one.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
For me, this is an important story and a beautiful deep study of the world of autism and how it shapes the behavior of those with this diagnosis and those with whom they have personal relationships. No less important is the generous, deeply personal exploration and sharing by the author of her experience in her intimate relationship with her husband. We all have much to learn and understand about autism and the new language that goes along with it. Lastly, I have been particularly grateful for the author's rich dedication to exceptional writing and storytelling. I highly recommend Disconnected for providing us all, whether we have an autistic friend or family member, with more knowledge and ability to understand others on our bifurcated planet who perceive and live in our world differently than we. Disconnected can open our wisdom and our hearts.
Mary Jo Doig, author of Patchwork: A Memoir of Love and Loss
Many readers learn from books by experiencing the trials and tribulations of the author, but I feel in Disconnected, Eleanor Vincent goes a step further. You sense she's on a mission to help those of us who may be partnered with a person who is neurodivergent, but we don't realize it at first. We are attracted to a unique, quirky personality, at best heartfelt, but gradually a realization of disconnection, hence the title of the book. But Vincent is not into the blame game—she admits her own "pathology" which makes the book more authentic and human, not a black-and-white victim /perpetrator scenario. Her writing is spot on, which makes the book not just readable, but un-put-down-able. I gobbled it up wanting more, but had to return to my own struggles which fortunately are not as dramatic as hers and still bring solace and joy. But Vincent's generosity of sharing stays with me and makes me feel not alone in my romantic rollercoaster.
For me, this is an important story and a beautiful deep study of the world of autism and how it shapes the behavior of those with this diagnosis and those with whom they have personal relationships. No less important is the generous, deeply personal exploration and sharing by the author of her experience in her intimate relationship with her husband. We all have much to learn and understand about autism and the new language that goes along with it. Lastly, I have been particularly grateful for the author's rich dedication to exceptional writing and storytelling. I highly recommend Disconnected for providing us all, whether we have an autistic friend or family member, with more knowledge and ability to understand others on our bifurcated planet who perceive and live in our world differently than we. Disconnected can open our wisdom and our hearts.
This was a tough but riveting read, nakedly, sadly and tragically honest. Laying bare her own personal tale, Eleanor Vincent is open about our basic, human need to be loved and connected - even in later life. Through her own experience, she shows the particular challenges when one partner is neuro diverse can be overwhelming, eakiheartbreaking decisions need to be faced. Her story shows how our individual personalities and histories, pre- dispose us in how we face and ultimately manage, our relationships.
This book is about one woman's experience marrying a neurodiverse man who is unable to acknowledge his difference. It's unflinching and at the same time compassionate and loving. Vincent also shares from her own childhood and the ways this made her receptive to marrying someone who stayed a mystery to her despite her many attempts to understand him. A moving and brave memoir about love and the differences that sometimes cannot be navigated. A powerful.story.
Eleanor Vincent's latest memoir reads like confessional prose, intimate and unsparing, yet compassionate and empathetic toward her former dancing partner/ husband, as well as herself. Revealing intimate aspects of her marriage, Vincent's experience offers a valuable lesson in understanding relationships between neurodivergent and neurotypical partners. A must-read for anyone who knows (and loves) people on the spectrum.
This is a powerful memoir of trying to make a marriage work. So many of us have been in a situation where we have seen the best in a partner, but for reasons we cannot foresee that person cannot truly work with us to make the marriage work. Eleanor brings to light an element largely unrecognized in our relationship struggles.
This is a must read for those who enjoy memoirs. Eleanor is a wonderful writer who brings the reader into her complicated neurodiverse relationship. Her book is a page turner, wondering if there is hope for her marriage. She is brave, courageous, a fighter for her life. I cannot recommend this book highly enough.
This is a moving memoir that had me up til 2:00 am finishing it. Heartbreaking and insightful, it opened my eyes to issues around neurodiversity and love.
I bought this book originally thinking that the author would offer true insights into the challenges of being in a ND/NT relationship. Instead what was presented felt more like a laundry list of complaints and more than just a little self pity. In the end the lesson is less about the neurodivergent issues, than is is about "bad fit" in a relationship.