'It has taken me several years of exploration, but I am at a place now where I see autism as neither an affliction nor a superpower. It's just the blueprint for who I am. There is no cure, but that's absolutely fine by me. To cure me of my autism would be to cure me of myself.'During the first thirty years of her life, comedy script writer Sara Gibbs had been labelled a lot of things - a cry baby, a scaredy cat, a spoiled brat, a weirdo, a show off - but more than anything else, she'd been called a Drama Queen. No one understood her behaviour, her meltdowns or her intense emotions. She felt like everyone else knew a social secret that she hadn't been let in on; as if life was a party she hadn't been invited to. Why was everything so damn hard? Little did Sara know that, at the age of thirty, she would be given one more label that would change her life's trajectory forever. That one day, sitting next to her husband in a clinical psychologist's office, she would learn that she had never been a drama queen, or a weirdo, or a cry baby, but she had always been autistic.Drama Queen is both a tour inside one autistic brain and a declaration that a diagnosis on the spectrum, with the right support, accommodations and understanding, doesn't have to be a barrier to life full of love, laughter and success. It is the story of one woman trying to fit into a world that has often tried to reject her and, most importantly, it's about a life of labels, and the joy of ripping them off one by one.
Sara Gibbs is a UK-based comedy writer, author and notorious cat lady. Having been diagnosed as autistic at the age of 30 after a lifetime of being misdiagnosed as just Jewish, it’s now all Sara talks about. That, and the Australian soap opera, Neighbours. Yes, Toadie is still on the show – no, he doesn’t still have a mullet.
Sara’s comedy writing credits include the Daily Mash, Dead Ringers, the News Quiz, the Now Show, Sketchtopia, the Mash Report, Greatest Ever TV Blunders, Greatest Ever Movie Blunders and Have I Got News for You amongst many others.
Her debut book, Drama Queen – One Autistic Woman and a Life of Unhelpful Labels (published by Headline), a memoir about growing up undiagnosed autistic in a new-age community, is out now and available to buy at all good bookstores, as well as e-book and audiobook downloads.
Sara is currently working on several top-secret narrative projects – mainly so she can sound cool and mysterious. She lives in the south east of England with her husband, known by her family as Saint John, and their many, many cats.
You can find Sara on Twitter and Instagram as @Sara_Rose_G. Sara is available to hire for topical, sketch and narrative comedy writing projects. For work enquiries, please contact Rowan Lawton at the Soho Agency.
I read this book as a friend, and as someone who is also autistic looking for (and finding!) their tribe. To read a memoir where so much is uncannily familiar is incredibly validating and hopeful. To have that book also be extremely funny and in places heartbreaking, makes it a joy to read. It’s been a long time since I’ve been enthralled enough to read a book in a day, but in many ways I feel like Sara is speaking for me as well as herself. Her voice is unique and inspiring. I want everyone I know to read this so that they can know me better.
To all autistic women with big feelings, big mouths, and big hearts, you’re not alone.
From the very first sentence, this book had me in absolute stitches. Gibbs' writing is so fucking funny, so razor sharp and so very touching. Sara doesn't waste a single word, and the result is a fast and hilarious memoir about love and acceptance... and how not to offend your husband when he's talking about planes:
"I have reached the upper limit of my physical and mental capacity and can't tolerate one more second of sensory input. My sweet, oblivious husband chooses this moment to start telling me a dull story about planes. My husband loves planes. I love him dearly but my brain needs a rest and, knowing it's impolite to blurt out 'you're being boring', I need to find some verbal gift wrapping. Desperate for a way to soften the blow, I scan the room for clues before announcing, 'The cat thinks you're being boring.' Much better."
I was surprised to find so much of her story deeply relatable too. I really hope that this book is picked up by as many people as possible. It's an absolute gem. Five easy stars.
Must-read about "the disorienting experience of growing up with undiagnosed autism" and how it presents differently in women and grown-ups. The book is both hilarious and heart-wrenching. Can be read in tandem with Hannah Gadsby's show Nanette, as Gibbs is also in the comedy industry. Despite her rivaling the outrageous (sexual) comedy of errors sketched by Ulli Lust's How I Tried to Be a Good Person, there are also a lot of tears (a student recently taught me the expression "nah am Wasser gebaut") and unflinching accounts of living with depression. The final chapter is a warm plea to minimally accommodate those living with extreme sensory sensitivity (e.g. misophonia), food aversions, and executive dysfunctions, a chapter that should be required reading for teachers and parents all over the world.
"I could wish anything for future generations of autistic people, it would be that we live in a world where saying ‘I’m autistic’ answers more questions than it raises, and what that means in different situations. Where we see someone wearing sunglasses or headphones indoors and think nothing of it, rather than staring or commenting. I wish for autistic people to be believed – both before and after diagnosis – when they say something is harder for them than it is for other people. I wish for autism to be more readily recognised in people of colour, in women and in any marginalised group that doesn’t fit the stereotypical understanding of what autism looks like. I wish for shorter waiting times for official diagnosis and for GPs who don’t assume someone ‘can’t be autistic’ if they can make eye contact or hold a conversation. I wish for more parents to love and accept their autistic child as they are, rather than mourning the child they wish they’d had instead. I wish for damaging and traumatic ‘cures’ to be banished to the dark ages, from emotionally scarring behavioural therapies designed to make a person appear less autistic to potentially life-threatening quackery like bleach enemas. I wish everybody knew that vaccines don’t cause autism – and that even if they did (they don’t), I wish people saw that having an autistic child is infinitely better than losing a child to a preventable illness. I wish for loved ones of autistic people to understand that reasonably small environmental adjustments can completely change an autistic person’s life for the better. I wish that there will never be another autistic person who feels like a burden or an inconvenience for asking for things they need at the expense of things other people want. I wish for autistic communication to be seen as valid and valuable, for neurotypical people to recognise the enormous effort autistic people make to live in their world and to, at the very least, meet us halfway. It is my deepest wish that finding out you’re autistic is no more traumatic than finding out you’re left-handed."
One of the most wonderful things of the last few years has been meeting and speaking to other autistic people. Post-diagnosis, I realised how much I had in common with other autistic people, that I was simply a very normal autistic person, not a very bad neurotypical. Reading memoirs by other autistic people, particularly late diagnosed people, has been instrumental in this. The latest I've enjoyed has been Drama Queen by Sara Gibbs. Extremely funny and autistically-frank, Drama Queen follows Sara quite literally from birth through her life, taking us through relationships, grief and her career as a comedy writer. Drama Queen is a story of extrovert autistics, those of us who demanded attention and stood up performing in front of others, but inside were struggling far more than we could explain. I listened to most of this in audiobook which Sara reads herself. My copy is just a proof which I’ll be upgrading to a finished copy shortly — it’s currently out in Hardback, ebook and audio. Definitely one I recommend for those late-diagnosed autistics looking for themselves in pages, though I suspect all autistics will find comfort, joy and understanding in these pages. Sara also kindly invited me onto the first season of her podcast Aut-Hour to talk about Stim, what it's like working with and within publishing as an autistic, and allude to what's coming next for me and her.
Found this book fascinating from start to finish. There are not enough books about autistic women and girls and so many times while reading it I could see my own daughter's struggle as she was also diagnosed with autism in her late 20's.
The book is witty, informative and sprinkled with sad moments as Sara tells of the challenges she faced while growing up. Each chapter is titled as a label she was given by others. There needs to be more awareness out there and especially from a female point of view.
I had not heard of Sara Gibbs when I picked up this book, and I rarely read memoirs, but I was intrigued by the description about how someone who was unknowingly autistic, discovers at the age of 30 that they are. I was not sure what to expect with the chatty style of the first few paragraphs, but within the first dozen pages I had laughed out loud at least twice, which is unusual for me. The book does jump about in time a bit, but the general flow is from an early age building up to and past the authors diagnosis as autistic. The book describes a slightly unusual childhood with a combination of Jewish upbringing, “new age” influences and time spent at a Steiner school (a type of school that I was not previously aware of). It describes the many challenges that she encountered in school and at home and other people’s reactions to them. I did wonder how different things could have been if the author had known she was autistic at a younger age. The book continues to have funny moments, some laugh out loud, but naturally takes a more serious tone, particularly with the heartbreak of her father’s illness and the struggle for her to fit in in various jobs and situations. If you have suffered any of the issues the author experienced to any small degree (e.g., depression, introversion, problems "fitting in" etc) then it is very sobering to imagine having to deal with many of these together over a long period of time, and the author does a brilliant job of getting across how hard this is. It was fascinating to find out how she discovered that she was autistic, what this meant to her life (particularly her tough decision around parenthood) and the different reactions people had to the news. Before reading this book my understanding of autism was pretty much limited to its depiction in popular culture. Now I feel I have a slightly better view of what it can mean for some people, without I hope, falling into the trap of thinking that all autistic people experience autism in the same way. As the author states “I can’t teach you about autism. All I can offer is a tour inside this one autistic brain”. That tour is well worth taking.
‘Drama Queen’ is a memoir detailing Sara Gibbs’ life as an autistic person - who didn’t know she was autistic. It’s broadly chronological, but each chapter has a different focus and is named after a label she has been given or identified with.
This book felt very targeted and a little like a personal attack, I won’t lie. I identified strongly with a lot of her stories (shocker) and overall, the book resonated with me as I expected it would. Sara’s writing is eloquent, funny, and poignant, and I wholeheartedly recommend this fairly short read to both autistic people and neurotypicals.
Being diagnosed as autistic late in life is, in short, A LOT. If anything, I would have loved more exploration on this but at the same time, Sara said it all so perfectly that I just have to admit I probably just wanted more for the sake of wanting more.
Vor der Lektüre wusste ich nicht nur nichts über Autismus bei Frauen und im Erwachsenenalter, ich hatte außerdem auch noch keine Ahnung, dass ich darüber gar nichts weiß. (Ok, lag nicht ausschließlich an mir, offenbar gab es auch einfach neue Erkenntnisse in den letzten Jahren, die ich verpasst habe.) Jetzt weiß ich wenigstens das Allernötigste. Angenehm zu lesen war es auch, also nicht in so einem "wie ich meine Probleme überwand und zu Gott fand"-Stil, sondern schlau und stellenweise moderat lustig. Bonustrack ausführliche, missmutige Auseinandersetzung mit Spiritualität und Waldorfschulen.
For anyone who has a child, partner, friend who is autistic
I couldn't put the book down. It was mesmerising and enlightening. I cried because I finally understood a huge part of what my son had been trying to cope with. Apart from the girly bits, it could have been written by him. I never understood so many aspects of the physical effects as well as the emotional aspects. We try, but its like saying we understand being blind or being deaf, we don't, because we cannot know what it feels like. This book helps bridge that gap of knowing what its called and knowing what it might actually feel like.
Was this book written by my british twin???? Wait, not possible.. I am not that funny. Jokes aside, this book WAS ABSOLUTELY FRIGGIN AMAZING. I discovered I was autistic last year at the age of 30 and have had SUCH a similar journey to Sara.... Autism has a female manifestation that is differently from diagnostic criteria. And more people still need to discover this. The joy that my autism diagnosis has brought to people like me and Sara is life changing. Sara has brought comedy to her story and has produced an absolutely gut wrenching story of hilarity. Recommended to all!
As a late diagnosed autistic person, I found this book interesting, funny, and useful from a research perspective. (Many of my own struggles are reflected in the pages - but I hadn't always realised that was my autism coming out to play.) If you think you might be autistic, or you're trying to work out what that could all mean, I would recommend this book. If you love an autistic person, I would recommend this book.
When my daughter was diagnosed as autistic and I began reading as much as I could about it I had a moment of going “hang on, that’s me they’re describing, that’s my childhood.” Reading this book I had much of those same feelings, literally sections of this book could have a few name and date changes and be directly lifted from my own life. Gibbs’ writing is so funny, vibrant, and heartbreaking. It’s wonderful to be able to read the lived experience of autistic people. Highly recommend.
Some parts of this are hard to read, and I could resonate with a lot of the sadness (particularly the feelings of helplessness in watching your strong dad die of cancer in his fifties, and being totally misunderstood and judged by your immediate family). Brilliant explanation of how autism presents in women and girls.
Sara Gibbs was diagnosed with autism at the age of 30, after spending her whole life never quite fitting in. Her memoir, Drama Queen: One Autistic Woman and a Lifetime of Labels, reflects on the various labels other people applied to her - crybaby, chatterbox, show-off, and many more - as she tried to make her way through life while constantly feeling that everyone else had been given a manual and she hadn't.
I bought this because, as someone who's currently (and finally) on the waiting list for an autism assessment, I'm extremely interested in the accounts of (other) autistic AFAB people, especially those diagnosed in adulthood. I expected to find Gibbs' story relatable, and I absolutely did; I wasn't quite prepared for the flood of often intensely uncomfortable memories it released. Despite this, I enjoyed the book; Gibbs' background as a comedy writer is evident in the book's humour, and even when she's describing very difficult times in her life the book never feels miserable or self-pitying. Highly recommended, especially for anyone who thinks they may be autistic, or knows someone who is.
Loved reading about Sara’s life and her journey towards autistic diagnosis and joy. It helped to read about someone who is very different to me but in which I could recognise some of the same struggles. I enjoyed her style of writing and her voice, and the humour sprinkled through the book.
Written with an excellent sense of humour yet still manages to be educational, touching and heartbreaking at the same time. A must-read for anyone autistic or supporting an autistic loved one to learn more about living with the diagnosis, particularly as a woman.
Sara’s raw experience of being an autistic woman really hit me in the feels. In particular I really liked the reference to just because others don’t see it, your autism isn’t fake and the dangers of terms like “we are all a little autistic” and “high/low functioning”
I am so grateful to Sara Gibbs for writing this book! It was engaging and funny and so deeply relatable. It brought me to weepy, ugly tears several times as I reconsidered my relationship with myself and with others in my life. In the very last chapter, she writes about realizing that she has autism, and the journey from diagnosis to rediscovery. I wish that this was a larger part of the book!!
As Joanne Limburg says, Sara ‘absolutely nails the disorienting experience of growing up with undiagnosed autism’. I see myself in so much of her childhood and her writing makes me laugh a lot!
Ugh I *hate* to do this because there are so few books by autistic people for autistic people and I want us to have a lot more of that, but I had to DNF this book.
The first chapter is full of highlights and notes because: yeah, me too... but I'd given up reading by Chapter 3 and when I tried to go back after a 6+ month break I couldn't even finish chapter four. The book just felt like I was slogging through mud. I tend to really enjoy memoirs, but to make them work you still need to use narrative devices like build up and release of tension, comedic relief, foreshadowing, creating a narrative thread etc... and this lacks any of that. It's written in a kind of monotone voice with no highs and lows or break up of the - what is inevitably going to be difficult/traumatic reminders for the rest of us adult diagnosed autistics who struggled through all this - tension and weight. It made the reading feel like work with no relief - so as much as I can see myself here I had to stop.
Slightly mixed feelings on this one. I enjoyed reading it, and it was long and often detailed, which I appreciated as a book I read earlier this year with a similar premise felt more like a series of short blogs. But at times this book was contradictory - eg Sara says she can't lie, when she had *just* described a time she lied (about her friend Rob's sexuality). (I appreciate she might have meant she can't/doesn't lie in all the circumstances it is socially expected, e.g. "does this look nice?" but then maybe say that instead of lots about "never" lying when you've literally just described a time you did.) I also felt like some things that would have been really interesting to hear more about (like her brief music career) were skimmed over whilst other were covered in great detail (I get that this could be due to her autism, but from a reader's perspective I'd have been happy to have more detail in various places).
Sara acknowledges her privilege to some extent and points out it is only *her* story, nevertheless (and this isn't her fault) it's a bit frustrating that it always seems to be the stories of those with lots of family support, no apparent financial issues and who had a private education and accessed their diagnoses through private GPs that are told.
Overall however this is one of the best autism memoirs I've read and does a good job of explaining that autism isn't always what people think it is/doesn't always present how people expect it too.
I bought this book on Saturday afternoon and finished it in the small hours of Monday morning, mainly because I wanted to finish it AND hand it on quickly to my daughter who, at the age of 20, had been given an diagnosis of autism in the course of a counselling session over the difficulties she had been having at university and in life in general.
As with Gibbs a basket of seemingly independent behaviours and conditions suddenly made coherent sense under an overarching diagnosis. While my daughter did not have to wait as long as Gibbs for this epiphany, there are so many res0nances in her experience and my experience of parenting her. I even sent my daughter a few screen shots of pages in the last chapter only to get excited Caps locked messages back along the lines of I DO THAT, and I LOVED WRITING.
Autism is underdiagnosed in women and girls, largely due to the efforts they make to mask their symptoms and manage their interactions with people. Notwithstanding the parallels my daughter and I saw with Gibbs's experience - in her introduction, Gibbs makes clear that this is very much her own experience - not a manual of how autism does or should present itself in anyone else.
The structure of the book is particularly apposite, divided into chapters each under a heading of one of the many unhelpful labels that were applied to her behaviour in childhood, adolescence and early adulthood. For example Spoiled-Brat, Kissy-Girl etc - all building up to the final chapter - Autistic.
When reading a book in a hurry, it helps that it is written in a lively and entertaining style with plenty of laugh out loud moments, along with some moments of intense sadness sharp enough to move you to tears. In a meeting long ago I remember generating a laugh about some contentious point and then, while the group were still laughing, coming in with my serious point about how and why the situation disadvantaged my department. As the gathering nodded in agreement it struck me how more receptive people seemed to be to new or challenging ideas in the wake of a good laugh. Gibbs' book effectively pursues a similar strategy of making you laugh to make you listen.
“I had always thought I was so unique that it would be impossible for anyone else to understand me, but there I was - I had been the exact hyper-empathetic, highly intuitive, obsessively interested, intensely anxious and phobic, poorly coordinated, easily nauseated, sleep-disturbed little girl the list described.”
Through no fault of the author’s, this book took me slightly longer to read than I expected - I’m not proud of this, but as an autistic woman who struggles quite a bit with loneliness and has somehow managed to make it to her mid-twenties without ever making an actual friend, I found myself initially grappling with envy at the relative ease with which the author found willing parties for friendships and relationships as a teen and adult, even if there were mishaps along the way. Now, however, the author’s accounts of the strong support system she has in her friends, mother and husband has given me hope that this might also happen for me someday if I stay true to myself and remain patient.
Aspects of the author’s experiences were very relatable and the last few chapters in particular were quite interesting as she processed her adult diagnosis and went on an emotional journey from grief for years lost to unfair labels to acceptance of her autistic identity as “neither an affliction nor a superpower”.
I’m glad to see the body of literature in autistic memoirs growing in recent years and hope that the more experiential accounts people have access to, the closer we’ll get to a day where autistic women in particular will no longer, as was unfortunately the case for the author, have to defend their diagnosis to people with a very fixed image of what is a broad, varied and ultimately beautiful spectrum.