Mutually Misunderstood
Being autistic in a neurotypical world often feels like playing a board game where the rules are invisible, the players wink at each other, and nobody tells you it’s your turn. This site is my attempt to flip over the game board—not in anger, but with a laugh—and say, “Forget winning. Let's build something together instead.”
I’m Alan Freedman, a reluctant traveler stranded between Weird and Autistic—holding a passport neither country will stamp. Too autistic for the land of small talk and hugs, too typical for the republic of stims and encyclopedic tangents. I’m fluent in their languages but a citizen of neither. So I spend my time writing dispatches from the borderlands—laughing at the contradictions, questioning the rules, and searching for places where misunderstanding might turn into connection.
Before I started writing about the absurdity of “normal” and the legitimacy of “neurodiverse,” I spent my career helping organizations derive meaning from complex data. That work demanded clarity, precision, and the ability to explain complicated ideas with humor—sneaking ideas past people’s defenses before they realized they were learning something.
Now, I use those same skills to decode the rituals of ordinary life: handshakes, office chatter, birthday parties, hugs. To me, those things often resemble a secret society with oddly specific entry requirements. But it cuts both ways: neurotypicals are just as baffled trying to decode us—like why we flinch at a friendly pat on the back, answer small talk with a dissertation, or refuse to step into a store that sells scented candles. The point isn’t to “fix” anyone—it’s to laugh, reflect, and maybe bridge the gap between us. Because misunderstanding is inevitable, but it doesn't have to be unpleasant.