I was recently asked, "Would you consider adaptation more difficult, and thus more exhausting, as an aspect of the social challenges of autism? Or is that something you would disagree with?"
Yes, I do often consider adaptation to be difficult and exhausting.
Imagine being relocated to an unknown planet. To gain the civility and respect of the inhabitants, you must adapt by submitting to strange painful shoes that alter your feet so you can walk on their terrain how they see fit. In addition to the shoes, the natives have decided they do not like the human quality of your voice, and so--to fit in better--you must use a voice modifying contraption. (Your voice is intelligible without the modifier, but it is viewed as atypical, ugly, and as something that must be corrected.)
The natives have decided lots of things for you, and they neither ask nor care for your input. They collect monies to open leading research centers to push for solutions for your kind. Scientists conduct studies without consulting you or your people. The natives talk about you without you. Even worse, they see to it you do not forget your human eyes fail to capture what their perfect ideal eyes do, and that though you can see, your eyes are deemed substandard and in need of a cure. If the natives are not discussing your defective eyes, then it is your appalling feet, your eccentric voice, or your odd human mannerisms and traits.
Your reward for adaptation and assimilation on this planet means the natives might hold you in higher esteem for making a conscious effort to submit to their conventions. Perhaps they are less likely to look upon you with eyes that scream: Inferior! Opportunities open up and life flows smoother, but only for a lucky few (mostly the token specimens of your kind).
Compliance will lead to consideration, tolerance, and understanding..."I'll keep trying," you tell yourself. But burnout is inevitable because, in spite of your best efforts, the natives still view you as in need of being fixed--or better yet, extinct. And they have no shame in discussing eugenics for your kind. Some go so far as to wish you would drown or be electrocuted by lightning.
You're offered anything from medications, surgeries, and treatment to quackery in order to transform you into an acceptable individual. You watch your people dragged off to asylums and institutions, or relegated to the fringes of society. And there's not a damn thing you can do about it but advocate and raise an army of like-minded individuals to reason with a body of native legislators and service providers who do not have the decency to treat your actions or words with respect. Dear Zaos, what you have to go through to gain an inch of consideration and equality! You search your mind for valid reasons to justify why the natives believe they reign supreme. What is this indispensable planet that dispenses! Is there any hope?
Resentment grows, and when you've had enough of putting up with native ways you find yourself interacting with them only when necessary.
At this point, what a relief it is for you to connect with your own kind. You are beyond joy to find an established community where you can be yourself without anxiety, fear, and ridicule. Concepts of civil rights and pro-diversity are music to your ears. As word spreads, some natives step forward and eagerly assist and support your community. But still, there are those who continue to make fun of you, kick you down, and demand conformity. Natives who deem themselves less barbaric and cruel simply ignore you because they do not understand you; a percentage admit to being too uncomfortable to interact with you. Can you blame them? After all, there are too few models to show them the way.
Adaptation is as difficult and exhausting as it is useful. It is often bittersweet. Home is where we make it, and it should be in our hearts. For some, the only home they have is their community.
The worst sin toward our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them: that's the essence of inhumanity. -George Bernard Shaw