The Life Autistic: Why my ‘Space’ is a Fortress

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I’ve been on a business trip all this week, doing what I’d imagine many of my fellow autists and Aspies may dread: working with a lot of real-live people all day.

For a dude who works remotely 95% of the time, this is a big deal. I travel once a quarter, mainly because it takes me that long to recharge in between trips to see and work with my awesome co-workers and extended peers in person.

It’s fun, but it is exhausting. 

But I did have an interesting self-revelation last night. As one of my friends left with me, he graced many folks with parting hug. I had to suppress a small smirk as I prepped to leave as well.

I joked about having a “hugs quota” that I’d exceeded for the day.

Someone asked: “Ah, so you have kind of a space bubble?”

I had to think both thoughtfully and fast, neither of which I do well on their own.

“Well, it’s more like a fortress.”

That right there is a fair assessment of how I feel about space. Here’s why:

A fortress is a defensive bulwark.

While I sometimes wish I were more forward, you’ll find that I’m never intrusive, not even by accident. Steadiness and steadfastness are great byproducts.

A fortress doesn’t pop. 

Bubbles don’t have the kind of permanence that I carry; it’s a stronger force, a lot more obvious – sometimes disinviting, but never surprising.

A fortress has an entry.

I’m most at peace with this one. I’m not closed. I’ve got a few arches, edifices, some cool design features – but despite the walls both high and wide, I can still control the gate. 




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