being autistic in the mormon church

being autistic in the mormon church was, for me at least, a weird experience. because i wasn't excluded or mocked very often, just smothered in that strange warm beige obligation. because they could tell, they knew i was different just like i did. so they held my hand, told the other children to be nice to me, to make sure i felt included. and my peers did, cause they didn't have a choice, raised to be polite and kind no matter what just like i was. so i was included and invited places, always as an afterthought or a checked box but invited nonetheless, injected into conversations and games by adults that my peers wouldn't dare contradict. 'well meaning' adults who ask me if im okay or if i want to join the group, talking down in the sweetest tones. every christmas and on every birthday they still track me down to give me a card about how much they miss my 'unique perspective', even though i always tried my hardest to fit in and say the normal things.

"Look at that one. it's different and broken, but you must be kind to it. help it stay in the light of god, because god is the only way to save it. we're good, and righteous, and its so lucky to be in the church because we're the only ones who'll ever tolerate it, because that's what god wants."

and i miss it sometimes. standing on the edge of people who i desperately want to be friends with, flitting around in the back of stores and staring at concert posters indecisively until the date has passed. never finding the right spot in a conversation to talk, never working up the courage to ask if i can come too, i miss the people who had to be nice. who had me on a little list in their mind of what they need to get to heaven.

but im never going back. because even i could feel that it was fake. i felt watched and judged and pitied at all times, by peers who would ask me if i was coming then talk amongst themselves about jokes i didnt get and shared friends i didnt know. and i may be lonely now, but id rather do the work and be awkward and sick with nerves and find people and spaces that i actually want to be in who actually want me to be there, even if it seems impossible now. id rather that than go back to that warm suffocating place, familiar like the worst kind of family.

also telling that all the adults im talking about are either women/afab people or members of the bishopric, people whose 'job' it is to be welcoming and nurturing, though these experiences are mostly from young womens so that would also be it, but even women who arent involved in the yw leadership are raised and taught and obligated to do this and i dont blame any of them but its always made me wildly uncomfortable. never as much as random men who would sit down next to me and just start talking like we knew each other tho so eh