The face of autism is changing. And more often than we realize, that face is wearing lipstick.
Autism in Heels, an intimate memoir, reveals the woman inside one of autism's most prominent figures, Jennifer O'Toole. At the age of thirty-five, Jennifer was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, and for the first time in her life, things made sense. Now, Jennifer exposes the constant struggle between carefully crafted persona and authentic existence, editing the autism script with wit, candor, passion, and power. Her journey is one of reverse-self-discovery not only as an Aspie but--more importantly--as a thoroughly modern woman.
Beyond being a memoir, Autism in Heels is a love letter to all women. It's a conversation starter. A game changer. And a firsthand account of what it is to walk in Jennifer's shoes (especially those iconic red stilettos).
Whether it's bad perms or body image, sexuality or self-esteem, Jennifer's is as much a human journey as one on the spectrum. Because autism "looks a bit different in pink," most girls and women who fit the profile are not identified, facing years of avoidable anxiety, eating disorders, volatile relationships, self-harm, and stunted independence. Jennifer has been there, too. Autism in Heels takes that message to the mainstream.
From her own struggles and self-discovery, she has built an empire of empowerment, inspiring women the world over to realize they aren't mistakes. They are misunderstood miracles.
I really struggled with this book. I wanted to love it, and I believe that it's a vital conversation about women on the spectrum and how to improve practices around diagnosing/supporting women on the spectrum. However, the writing was choppy and repetitive; many chapters felt like adapted speeches with little serious editing to improve flow. Additionally, the order of the chapters did not help establish a clear trajectory or push the narrative forward. I'm hesitant to describe this book as a memoir because, in truth, there are very few narrative aspects evident. Most frustrating, though, is that the author has major blind spots when it comes to intersectionality and gender identity. O'Toole adhered strictly to traditional conceptions of male/female, despite the fact that much of her argument likely applies to gender identities outside the traditional binary. Additionally, she explicitly co-opts Sojourner Truth while misrepresenting the work of early suffragettes. Ultimately, O'Toole has an important message, but the flaws in both rhetoric and thinking muddy that message significantly.
I really, really wanted to like this book. After all, I am a woman who received a late diagnosis of Asperger's as well.
However, the author's prose and writing style is exhausting to follow, suffers from a lack of editing, and a lack of cohesiveness.
This is the third attempt I've made to read her book. I'm less than halfway through and cannot say with any certainty whether or not I'll finish it.
UPDATE: At 100 pages, I'm calling it. I have too many other books to read in the two months before this baby arrives. I suspect she makes a better public speaker than author. Though her Asperkid series is excellent, perhaps she works better with specific topics or a shorter leash from an editor.
Highly disappointing. As someone who's followed Jennifer O'Toole's work for quite some time, I was excited to see that she was releasing a memoir. More so, I was excited to see that it would focus on being a woman on the spectrum, a topic that's come up often in the circles I run in.
Unfortunately, the book came across as poorly researched with little empirical information supporting her claims. This is especially a shame because I know she did her research. No one can accuse her of not being well-versed in autism. She did make one claim that I take major issue with--that eating disorders are a "red flag" for autism. That's simply not true. People with autism may be more likely to develop eating disorders, but people with eating disorders often do not have autism.
She was guilty of universalizing her own experiences (re: came across as poorly researched), asserting things like, "we are perfectionists." No, you are. Yes, this is a trait that's common among individuals with autism, but how does that relate to you as a woman with autism? That doesn't even get into the points where it feels like she's highlighting a fairly common trait (ex. being organized) and intimating that if you have that trait, you may have autism. As autism in girls/women tends to go undiagnosed, I am a bit understanding on that last front.
The first half of the book read more like the outline of a Wikipedia page, highlighting key points but not yet supporting them with citations or data. Without citations to back these up, this information lacks authority. Without her sharing her own experiences, which she later does but to a lesser degree than is needed. Without the emphasis on her own experience, it fails to be a memoir. Really, it's neither memoir nor informational text but lies somewhere in between.
Where Jennifer O'Toole does really succeed is painting autism in a positive light. Her autism has given her traits that she's used to benefit her, and she's clearly very proud of them. While I felt her text glossed over a lot and had several holes in it, the overall tone of her being confident in herself and having more or less overcome the challenges autism posed in her youth was an affirming message.
“What’s it like to be us? Too much. We feel too much. React too much. Say too much. Need too much. So says the world. I say: the world is wrong. There is an exquisite trade-off for a life so differently led: complex imagination, limitless curiosity, profound compassion, and restless independent thought. They are the core of everything I am. They will be responsible for whatever legacy I leave behind.”
This book is unlike any I have ever read. It actually changed my life and I will never see myself or others as I did before reading this. The author’s style matches my mind in its jumps, circles, repetition, enthusiasm, and even the embarrassing over-sharing and things that don’t always come off quite right. So I take off a star for being perfectly imperfect. Oh how I want to be perfect. Five stars aren’t even enough and four are me posturing some construct of critical objectivity I could never possibly attain. The star count is really rubbish, because I cannot be objective. How I feel about this book is nearer religious experience or seeing the stars in the sky or a sunset for the first time. In the words of the old hymn, “I once was blind but now I see!” I read this book to understand my granddaughters’ autism better, but I learned about myself. I realized that most of my life was spent pursuing the frustration of unsuccessful mimicry of a normalcy I have relentlessly studied and failed to reproduce in myself, while trying to help my own daughters to succeed where I had failed so often and so spectacularly. I did; they are both better-behaved than I—so very nearly perfect in every way—but struggle with lost sense of self, depression, and/or social anxiety. Apparently, those are common prices for successful mimicry of normal brains for women on the spectrum. All of my life began to make sense when viewed through the lens of autism the author shares. I actually understand myself so much better and I see myself and others very differently, and with more kindness. Mostly, it comes down to not blaming myself for failing over and over to not be understood, for being weird—for being so smart and so stupid—and learning not to see myself as a problem in need of fixing. By doing so, I can free myself of trying to help fix my amazing daughters and granddaughters, forgiving myself and being grateful for a few sister-friends who “get” me. Being grateful. Just being. Letting go. This book is a manifesto and an inspiration. I can’t really review it; I am too full of wonder.
(I received a free eARC from Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.)
I actually had to take a break in the middle of reading this because it struck home — not just close, but all the way. As in, I recognized very specific thoughts and behaviors that I’ve noticed but never considered in an ASD context, and I just felt seen and understood in a way that I never have before.
No one ever does seem to talk about all the complexities of being a girl on the spectrum: the specific challenges boys don’t face, the difficulty of being diagnosed in the first place, the extra social obstacle that it often is in a world where women in particular rely on interpersonal skills, the vulnerability to other types of harm (specifically, self-harm and toxic relationships). And that’s all on top of the universal difficulties, the stigma, the disadvantages of living in a world built for neurotypical people.
The anecdotes and analogies used are well-chosen, making each point accessible to a diverse audience. O’Toole also makes some effort to address intersectionality — considering the numerous other complexities addressed and the space it would take to address the nuances, it’s adequate, but by no means comprehensive or revolutionary; she does a better job with the broader feminist angle. My biggest concern is the gendered use of heels and pink to symbolize females, especially considering that the author acknowledges in-text that there are so many ways “spectrum girls” can choose to demonstrate (or not) our relationship to femininity, and that biologically-female Aspies might not even identify as such.
It has been great to see more and more books available detailing the experiences of various (albeit mostly white) women on the autistic spectrum, given their under-diagnosis and the biases that pervade the perception of autism among the public and even the medical community (as I understand, the diagnostic criteria were formed from a study of entirely male subjects). O’Toole is brave to share her very personal experiences, and there is useful information contained here. The book is focused on her own individual life, and thus should be taken with a grain of salt as a diagnostic, but many of the topics she discusses will likely be relatable to many women who (suspect they) are on the spectrum. She emphasizes that autism has many positive aspects worth celebrating in addition to the negatives (which with proper awareness and support, can be mitigated).
A few takeaways: * Autistic people are often exceptionally creative, gifted, and excel in many areas yet struggle with social skills. * Many live with high levels of anxiety due to frequent missteps/misunderstandings and exhausting coping strategies. * Putting on a neurotypical mask is a coping strategy, especially in women. They mimic behaviors they see in others and may not “seem” autistic. * Sensory issues (e.g. the feeling that a tag against skin is painful) can lead to meltdowns. * Rigid adherence to routines and repetitive behaviors are common. * Executive function issues can make it hard to organize between many tasks, rather than focusing on one (also autistic people have inertia against switching tasks). * Autistic people often have one or several obsessive “special interests” (they can change over time). For boys it may be something like trains that is easily flagged, whereas girls' special interests (barbies, fantasy, reading, etc.) are more likely to be missed. * It is a misconception that autistic people don’t have empathy. They may lack cognitive empathy (the ability to read other people to intuit that they are hurt) but they do have emotional empathy. In fact, they may tend to have more emotional empathy than average, to the point that it is overwhelming. * Many autistic women also have had eating disorders at some point. O’Toole goes so far as to suggest that any woman with an eating disorder should be tested for autism. * Due to their social impairments, autistic women are particularly susceptible to being abused (sexually, emotionally in relationships, through bullying, etc.) and gaslit. O’Toole shares a lot of her own experiences in detail, and also discusses resulting complications such as complex PTSD. [Edit for clarification: All autistic people, including men, are susceptible to abuse. Gender can add a compounding factor. Thank you Ronnie for the comment.]
The discussion of O’Toole’s synesthesia was interesting, although keep in mind that it is not universal and there are other traits that can overlap with an autism diagnosis (tics/Tourette’s Syndrome, ADHD, transgenderism, etc.).
Unfortunately there are some noticeable flaws in this particular book. For example: It is very repetitive with an overuse of ellipses. I also cringed when O’Toole made use of Sojourner Truth’s speech to defend herself as a woman who enjoys wearing heels. (To be clear: The abuse she suffered through her life is awful and her suffering is real and valid, however it does not compare to slavery.) Still, it is valuable to have more writings sharing the perspective of various people and especially women on the spectrum. The next step (hint to publishers) is to equally feature the voices of autistic writers (including women) of color.
Got this book to try to better understand the differences of autism in different genders-instead got a book that was more steam of consciousness than either memoir or informational book. The author is brilliant I'm not arguing that-and she knows a great deal about her own and her children's experiences-however some of her faulty statements makes you question her even when she does have a proven connect. Jenny makes points such as anorexia being a red flag for autism-while I'm sure she'd done her research and women on the spectrum may have a higher liklihood of also developing eating disorders-the reverse correlation is not necessarily true (eating disorder could also indicate growing up in an abusive household,a result of sexual assault, or simply a result of a little girl growing up in a highly weight conscious environment such as gymnastics, ballet, theater, or pageants).
This book feels more like trying to convince you if you were a weird kid (particularly a weird little girl) you are probably on the spectrum. Taught yourself to read- spectrum, didn't fit in with other kids and didn't know why -spectrum, got along with adults and/or felt highly responsible to impress them -spectrum. Further she makes assumptions about eating disorders, abusive relationships, and self harm suggesting each one is a red flag for autism. I'm not saying those on the spectrum are not at higher risk for any of these-I just worry this book may leave readers either self diagnosing themselves or families inaccurately because of some of the suggestions in this book.
Perhaps if you read this book and are on the spectrum it may make you feel seen, understood and less alone and if this book helps even one person in that way-I'd call it a success. If you're coming to this book as a neurotypical reader looking to better understand someone in your life, I'm afraid you probably won't find what you're looking for, between her rambling stories and asides and the sometimes poorly connected dots you'll be left unsure what behaviors are truly common for someone on the spectrum and further what you can do to better support them.
I simply did not like this book. I read it three nights in a row to make me sleepy (it worked!).
The author writes like this. Where each sentence isn't a grammatically correct sentence. Which is odd. Because she says she's "geektastic for grammar". Could have fooled me. But you can imagine reading a book written like this is kind of obnoxious. For ~250 pages no less!
Ok, I'll stop. I was interested in this book because I'm aware of how autism diagnosis criteria is based largely on criteria far more applicable to men on the spectrum, which is really medical history 101 playing out in real time. This means that women who are on the spectrum often aren't identified as such, and this can cause problems when it comes to getting help, validation, etc. I know this book is a memoir, but I guess I thought it would have discussed this concept more than it does given the title (which also irks me, but alas). Instead, it's kind of not-like-other-girls-adjacent. The author also talks a lot about certain times in her life that are heavily implied to be significant, but I just don't see it.
When she's talking about her research and giving her chick list of how female autism can look, she is compelling and funny and you understand why she would be a great speaker and why her Asperkids books are so popular.
And then there are segments on bullying she endured in school and on intimate partner violence and that is just excruciating because it is so visceral.
But it is also hard to read in other ways that aren't important, but just a little grating. Bits that pulled me out of the narrative entirely. At least a couple of times she mentions her IQ, which is pertinent in that one reason females with autism are not evaluated and if evaluated, not diagnosed, that is, they ate overlooked in part because they're smart, often very verbal, and well behaved. So it makes sense to pull from her life to illustrate a concept. Yes. But she brings it up more than once and doesn't give the number. Maybe it seemed like it made more sense to avoid a specific number in favor of a range, which is fine, but she doesn't exactly do that either.
Likewise, in the school section, she talks about her mom being kind of flabbergasted at stuff the child doesn't know or doesn't understand, stuff which seems so obvious to the mother. So yeah, her mother found her odd and without a recognized female phenotype of autism, the mother has no context for why her only child is like this. Again, this is totally central to the point of the book: Cook is alone with her mom for years and she doesn't have friends and her mother doesn't get her, so she throws herself into academics and performing and such for validation. I get it. But more than once she mentions being this performer on command for adults, and how it pissed off other kids the way she was showing off. Every time this comes up she gives a "but it wasn't showing off" because of the adult validation imperative. Multiple times, which I did not count. Until I am just gobsmacked that she doesn't understand that it doesn't matter to the other kids what the motivation is or who asked her to do it: it is still, explicitly, well within the connotation and denotation of "showing off." To be fair, this is one of the traits of autism: not getting it, I mean.
Last one, several times she refers to the things that other people are astounded that people with autism don't just understand. Things which people can't even explain properly because they do just get it, and it's never been explicit anywhere. And autism spectrum or not, that's always a thing that fascinates people. But we all assume other people are like us, so you might not realize until your 50s, to take an example at random, that when people say "I could see it in my mind" they aren't being metaphorical. They literally mean that they have a clear, precise image in the head. If you're aphantasic and have no visual imagination, you might not have realized that other people could really do such a thing. Right with the concept, and she talks about this in different anecdotes. And then, when she's writing about something, she says in effect, people with autism can't do this kind of detailed strategizing and tactical planning. Whoops! I have no idea how common or rare this ability is, but there are definitely people with autism who can do that. I can't, but some people are really good at it, which comes up a lot in gaming.
Okay, I am done with that, it's just some things that vexed me.
More importantly, when differentiating between the boy and girl phenotypes, Cook describes looking at the criteria and working out what the trait in question is for and then looking at things girls do that serve the same purpose even if it isn't "lining up their cars" or "studying traintables" and it's really some brilliant thinking on her part, and it is described so clearly that you get it. Girls without brothers probably don't even have cars. It's elegant.
There's a lot of good stuff about things she did for her kids when they were diagnosed, and stuff she does for others. I think she probably is a fabulous mentor for people with autism, and an amazing example of people studying what they think is important, rather than what researchers think is important from the outside.
This was a really difficult read for me. I get that there is an intent to pull the reader inside a mind struggling with dysregulation & metacognition, but I think the book suffers for it and, like others have said. could do with a really good edit and re-organization. The line between memoir and teaching (experience and data) can become really muddy in cases like this.
I also really struggled with the multitude of absolutes. I know the world is easier when we categorize things, but no, we don’t all want the same things, or need the same things. A lot of the things labeled as “female autistic” are possibly better presented as this-autistic-in-particular. Some read as trauma responses. Some as growing up mired in privilege and prioritizing those things privilege values (social status, success, etc.) Some may be extroversion as it presents in autism. Some (rape culture/patriarchy stuff), are just, depressingly, normal.
Being the center of attention will put me into a meltdown/shutdown faster than any other social scenario. If I can be in a social space and be silent and just enjoy people being present, that’s great. It’s important to me to have a couple people I’m very close to that will let me be myself, but I don’t have an active desire for more than that.
I say this to reinforce the maxim that if you’ve met one autistic, you’ve met one autistic. A lot of the experiences the author obviously enjoys or longs for would be nightmare sensory experiences for me.
I do think it’s important to acknowledge how really vulnerable camouflaged autistics of all genders can be, so I appreciate the emphasis on how necessary diagnosis really is (and hate how expensive and difficult it is to pursue one).
Also appreciated were many of the descriptions, personal and technical, of mental processes like metacognition, types of empathy, and diffuse sense of self. It’s always really validating (un-othering?) as a neurodivergent person to hear this stuff in other people’s stories.
For those looking for information ED info not explicitly found in the book, Spectrum News had a nice article recently on overrepresentation of autism in anorexia. The research excludes non-AFAB and fat anorexics, so the correlation is likely stronger than even suggested in the literature. (I suspect all genders of undiagnosed ASD people have a higher rate of AN, mostly for reasons not to do with body image — we just don’t look for it outside of underweight cis girls).
Honestly, I disliked this book so much that I skimmed 5/6ths of it. For someone who self-professes to love grammar so much, her sentence structures were almost impossible to read. Very flowery and wordy and other times very. Short. And. Annoying.
Now let's talk subject matter: goodness gracious, this lady can whine! Not every bad thing that happened to you is because you're autistic. Sometimes, people and kids are just a-holes. Everyone's middle school experience is torturous! That's part of life. And not every odd person or every geeky person or every anxious person is autistic. Sometimes they're just odd or geeky or anxious. Because we're all different, even when we're neurotypical. Also, no matter how many times you say "I'm not bragging or boasting" when you go on and on about how amazing you are, it still comes across that way. Autistic or not. Yes, some horrible things happened to her and yes, some people are jerks to people on the spectrum, but it felt like she just wanted to be able to complain and say everything bad was because people were treating her poorly because of her autism. I'm not autistic, yet have had horrible things happen to me too. Should I blame them on neurotypicals? No, it's just crappy life experiences.
As a parent of a child with Aspergers and a teacher of kids on the spectrum, I found this book to have a victimization tone. Lots of whining. She thinks everyone has autism: her dad, her husband, herself, her children. When people reach to find a reason to be autistic, everyone can have symptoms like it and say they have it. This really takes away from the people who reallt have it. The overall tone of this book came across as self-pity mixed in with moments of pure arrogance. I couldn't really stand to finish the book as I thought it would be more informative than it really was.
There were parts of this books that I liked quite a bit. I felt seen, heard, and validated. At times, the stories were so powerful and real, that I had to put the book down, shaking, and take a breath. And I'm glad for that.
But other parts, I just couldn't relate to. The impossibly hot, super popular cheerleader who is also a top student and star performer in every show, who effortlessly got into Brown and had Ivy league schools begging her to do their PhDs, who hobnobs with royalty and was the queen of her sorority and just so goddamn hawt...
Too much. Much too much. Especially the part where she lectures the female readers to have more empathy for impossibly hot, super successful women.
I guess toward the last 1/3 of the book, I was also looking for more *answers*. She spends nearly 50 pages detailing her abuse at the hands of her asshole college boyfriend, but never tells us how she managed to finally get away from him (only that she did). She talks about her eating disorder, but never how it was resolved. How she's been super successful in nearly every aspect of her life, and *how* she managed that while being autistic. I get it - it's her life story, she gets to share what she chooses, but I really would have liked more answers.
This book was a real eye-opener. I could relate to so many of Ms. O'Toole's experiences, my own behavioral patterns and life experiences suddenly began making a whole lot of sense. I've been living with anxiety and a whole assortment of other issues, but now I'm thinking it was simply an undiagnosed Asperger's all along. While I was reading it, I decided to take an online test - yep, looks like Asperger's. I'll definitely go and see a therapist for a formal diagnosis, but wow. This book hit home big time.
I struggled to get through this book mostly because hearing about her IQ or 4.0 from Brown kept making me want to groan. Or how hot she is, such a good dancer, the list goes on… There were a couple of nuggets of interesting points but enough to be able to recommend this.
By reading this book I was able to go somewhere I thought I'd never been, but it sure felt familiar. Following Jennifer O'Toole's narrative, observations and then her wry asides had me totally engaged. It opened a new way to think about autism, and all that it means to those living within its realm in today's world. The focus on how that adds a layer of complexity to a woman's life, a girl's life was also something I appreciated.
Having read a lot of pages in many books about groups who suffer from some kind of negative pressure and misguided outreach from "Normal" folk (whoever they are), it was a treat to hear from the author's life experience, rather than the stilted tones of medical or scientific observations and analysis. Her unique voice, sassy and frank was absolutely refreshing. And, as I mentioned before, some of it sure felt familiar.
You know, I had a pair of patent leather red stilettos, just like those (an entire collection, in fact). Makes you think, doesn't it?
I generally don't do bad reviews of memoirs because it's not for me to criticise someone's personal story. I don't have the mental energy to write anything particularly coherent right now but then I'm not being paid to write books. The part where she co-opted Sojourner Truth was the point where I came to Goodreads to check it wasn't just me who was being driven up the wall.
Super heteronormative, self-aggrandising, factually inaccurate, over generalising, jam-packed with white privilege and narrated in a weird coquettish breathy laughter faux-humble style, this was genuinely one of my worst reads of the year. She makes sure to get in that disclaimer whereby if you're a woman and don't support other women who want to do performative femininity, you're a Bad Feminist (TM). Very hashtag girl boss. Big Masking Energy too.
If you want a genuine insight into adult autism, try Fern Brady's Strong Female Character, Pete Wharmby's Untypical, or the Squarepeg Podcast.
Despite some issues that I think could have been resolved with better editing, I recommend this book to all teachers and basically anyone. You will come away with a better understanding of people on the autism spectrum as well as just people in general. We all have our own reality and this book is a wonderful explanation of how one woman on the spectrum perceives the world around her on a daily basis.
An 'interesting' read for Autism Awareness month. I got tired of hearing her talk about how cute, gorgeous, brilliant, etc. she is; her arrogance was very off-putting (it was especially annoying because I listened to the self-narrated audiobook).
I dunno, I just didn't like it. It was hard to see where her struggle is different from any person's as far as relationships are concerned. 🤷♀️
Bastante relatable, pero no puedo ser muy objetiva porque las experiencias de mujeres en el espectro suelen parecerme muy relatables :P
Quizás no es la autobiografía más estructurada: da muchas vueltas, hay capítulos que son más informativos y no necesariamente anecdóticos y supongo que a algunas personas el estilo podría parecerles repetitivo o muy "verboso", pero a mí me pareció que justo todo eso recrea muy bien los autistic thought processes.
Me parecieron especialmente iluminadores los capítulos sobre la teoría de la mente y las funciones ejecutivas. Me encantó su metáfora de que las funciones ejecutivas son como Santa Claus organizando la Navidad y sus explicaciones sobre la teoría de la mente y la toma de perspectiva me dieron mucha claridad sobre por qué "ponerme en los zapatos del otro" y anticipar correctamente las reacciones de otras personas me cuesta trabajo.
También aprecié que hablara sobre la correlación entre el autismo y los trastornos alimenticios y conductas adictivas. Definitivamente es algo a lo que los profesionales de la salud mental deberían prestarle atención.
Obviamente la experiencia de Jennifer O'Toole no es universal: ella habla desde ciertos privilegios y desde ser una mujer muy femenina y extrovertida, pero justo me pareció que su relato es valioso por eso: porque es una cara del autismo que la mayoría de las personas no se esperarían en absoluto y, sin embargo, todos los core traits están ahí y, en lo fundamental, su experiencia refleja lo mismo que viven (o vivimos) otras mujeres más introvertidas o menos normadas por la feminidad tradicional.
Por último, me gustó que el libro cierra con una nota empoderante y esperanzadora que me dejó con una sensación muy bonita.
No sé si le recomendaría el libro al público en general, pero sí a cualquier persona (sobre todo mujer) que tenga sospechas o haya sido diagnosticada recientemente como autista.
This was a simple overview of how Autism can present itself in girls and women and be so different from the presentation in boys. As the parent of a girl who was misdiagnosed with ADHD as a child, and correctly diagnosed with Autism as an adult, this book hit me right in the feels. I admit that the author's style was a little off-putting, but even that was helpful and it gives insight into how the neurodivergent brain works differently from my own. So many of the author's experiences made me look back on how I raised my own daughter and cringe. I wish I had known better - I would have done better. At this point, we just learn and press forward.
I recommend this book to any girl/woman who thinks they might be on the Autism Spectrum, and anyone who loves or interacts with a girl/woman on the Spectrum. you might not enjoy reading this book, and you probably won't agree with the author on everything (I didn't), but you'll learn something and you'll improve how you relate with/treat women on the Spectrum.
The strongest part of this book was definitely the memoir aspects, where O'Toole engaged with the elements of her own past and made sense of them by unveiling the consequences of a neurotypical culture. I found her chapters towards the end, which featured heavy topics like relationship abuse and eating disorders, to be very powerful, because while she could point to individual situations where things went wrong, their impact got worse and worse due to the constant gaslighting and cycles of ignorance that did nothing to help O'Toole thrive. Certainly, she found her own path, and that was impressive! I would hope that this book would also serve as a guidepost for other women in similar situations, finding themselves in the pages and using this as a resource to move forward.
In terms of complaints, mine are few and have been noted in other reviews. I wasn't the biggest fan of the writing style, for example, but that is neither here nor there.
On the whole, the book did feel a little cisnormative—which I guess felt problematic because I know there is a higher proportion of trans Autistic folks, and so while this did investigate gender, I think there was also a gap regarding gender identity.
The main big problem I had did appear with a quote from one of O'Toole's other works, Sisterhood of the Spectrum, where she quotes a paragraph from Sojourner Truth's "Ain't I a Woman?" speech, and that did not work out so much. I mean, a, I think the biggest slap in the face is that O'Toole is calling out white suffragettes from the mid-1800s, saying that because they did not include women of color in their campaign "they didn't gain the vote in the United States for another sixty-nine years" (193). But that's not altogether true—while white women got the vote in 1920, the sixty-nine years after Sojourner Truth's speech in 1851, Black women (and other women of color) did not have the complete freedom to vote until 1964, when the Voting Rights Act (1965) was passed. So, yeah. That's a lot of things. O'Toole takes Truth's comment and appropriates it for her experience as an Autistic woman (which, too, ignores the layered experience that a Black person with Autism has), and then misrepresents the relationship between race and suffrage. To be sure, this is one page among two-hundred, so I don't want it to seem like this overshadows the message of the book. But it definitely bears mentioning.
I liked this, and I think it's well worth a read. Near the end, O'Toole writes that "When you cut to the chase, we are advised to change this and stop doing that—to stop behaving like ourselves, really" (207). This seems to be a book that encourages Autistic women to reclaim the ways they best behave like themselves, to embrace the awesome self underneath. And I think that's pretty cool.
The author writes from her perspective as a female who has been diagnosed with autism and shares her experiences and her perceptions on what that means as a participant within the human experience. The author’s story about her commitment to her daughter’s health, and the passing of her father were two stories that I found captivating. The rest of the book fell flat for me.
I think the author made a mistake when she wrote about her autism experiences such that as she was telling them, I would often think ‘who doesn’t think like that’, or even ‘I wish I had had it so good.’ She described autism in terms of a lack of a ‘theory of mind’, that is to say one’s inability to read another person’s mind, intentions, hopes or desires in terms of social cues, facial expressions, or other non-verbal cues, and by extension saying that neurotypical people understand beyond the verbal. Neurotypicals focus on the non-verbal, while neurodiverse focus on what is said, not the often intentionally misleading non-verbal cues which usually constitute the rules-of-the-game. Similarly, the author would speak of the specialized interest that autistic people tend to have, and I would think ‘doesn’t everyone have that to some degree, isn’t that part of being human’, I probably thought that about all of her characteristics that she laid out for autistic people.
I would not wish alienation and isolation towards the world upon anyone, not being able to play the game as others naturally do while always having to struggle at the game since the rules are elusive for somebody on the spectrum. To be an authentic human is to participate fully within, between and outside of the world as one is thrusted into the world with its idle chatter, distractions, historicity, facticity (thrownness), and moods acquired by attunement (I’m invoking Heidegger and “Being and Time” with this sentence) and for people on the spectrum the participation in life does not come naturally. It’s just not a pleasant place to be, and at times the author seemed to miss how off-putting disconnection leading to isolation and alienation can be for those who remain always looking from the outside through a blurred pair of glasses trying to play the game while not intuitively understanding the rules as neurotypicals clearly do.
The author has been diagnosed as autistic but never really seems to get at the crux of the matter at how that can lead to alienation and isolation within an often-hostile world, and she would usually tell the female autistic story such that most of the time I would think I only wish my experiences had been that banal, in grade-school, middle-school, high-school, or the work-place. Everyone struggles getting through life, at least I did, but it might not be because they are autistic.
This is an amazing book. An extraordinary look into autism in women told with fascinating anecdotes from a captivating writer. I have always enjoyed the Asperkids books but Jennifer O'Toole has really outdone herself describing this personal journey. I was riveted from the first moment. I would not get this book unless you have time to read it in one sitting because you will not be able to put it down. This is a must read not only for women on the spectrum, and those that love them, but for any woman finding her way in a world that is sometimes confusing. Not only does this book provide great insight, but it is gripping that way Jennifer O'Toole interweaves her personal story throughout. I could not recommend this book higher.
I've been looking for books about autism/Asperger's lately and this book caught my eye. The cover, title, and blurb were all attention-grabbing and I eagerly placed it on hold. But my anticipation vanished as soon as I read the first 15 pages. I was expecting a memoir but this felt more like a textbook and I ended up skimming. Overall a disappointing read and I definitely don't recommend it.
This is not a well written book. I liked that O'Toole described some of her experiences, and that was mainly what I had been looking for in this book. I did get sick of her focus on her red hair and how attractive she is though. I got bored of this book and I struggled to finish it.
So much information, autism spectrum is so very misunderstood in women and girls. This woman's experience of being on the spectrum plus her study and expertise on the subject blows me away.
Autism had never IN MY LIFE been on my radar until a couple of weeks ago, when my new therapist, who specializes in Neruodivergency, rose a flag of suspicion. This is the book that she recommended that I read. I read in awe as Jennifer O’Toole so eloquently shared the secret parts of her life that, to my surprise, so resonate with the secret parts of my own life. Although some of my experiences differ greatly from hers, this book offers a few valuable perspectives that everyone, not only those on the spectrum, could benefit from. I am grateful for O’Toole’s drive and passion to share her mind with others in hopes that it might help empower more women on the spectrum moving forward. I am pleased to say that I myself have been empowered by this book, and will be recommending it to friends and family.
growing up an (especially undiagnosed) autistic girl*, you don’t understand why certain things are happening to you. you don’t understand why nobody seems to like you. you don’t understand why people aren’t interested in books or numbers or words like you are. you don’t understand why they tease and bully you for it. and you don’t know how to fix it.
jennifer o’toole explains all of this and more in a way that’s designed to be relieving. she describes what you’re experiencing and takes it off your shoulders. she says “no. you’re not alone. and i get it.”
but i would be lying if i didn’t say that it also drove me a little into my own hopelessness. she offers up explanations for why this happens to us, but doesn’t offer many solutions. at times the book feels very “it’s always going to be this way”. and i can appreciate that because i’m never going to not be autistic, and i’ll never not make the social mistakes that come along with it. but I’d like to learn more solutions. and i think this book is a good starting point. she has other books i’m going to read that are more in that vein of guidebooks for autistics, because i already like her writing and her honesty so much.
five stars because even though this book isn’t perfect, EVERYONE should read it. especially if you’re curious if you’re autistic.
*i am nonbinary but was raised a girl and this book is about female autism, which applies to me. however i think it would be helpful for boys and other nonbinary people too