Help, I’m in a Friendship Deficit (Again)!

An autobiography of my failed friendships as an autistic person.

Annika Hotta
Human Parts

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A group of seven people toasting at a picnic table outdoors. There is a whole spread of fruit, crackers, and cheese on the table, along with flowers for decoration. The photo has a golden hue, like it was taken during sunset.
Photo by Nicole Herrero on Unsplash

I’m currently going through a friendship breakup. This is a process I’ve been prolonging since May of this year. Coming to terms with it means accepting that I am now down to just two friends, and facing the embarrassingly long string of unreciprocated friendships in my past.

Loneliness seems to be the inherent destiny of autistic people. There are perks, don’t get me wrong. Solitude demands intimacy with yourself, a kind of self-preservation that is necessary to survive in this neurotypical world. But not being able to make friends easily, particularly ones who give as much as they take, eats away at the soul who longs for togetherness.

Making friends and keeping them get infinitely harder the older you get. As we withdraw into our domestic spheres and the milestones pass us by, the autistic person is playing a losing game. How did we get here? Is there any hope for us? Let’s reckon with our collective fates together.

The decline of my current on-the-rocks friendship began after I took a trip to visit her hometown. I stayed in a hotel, but was a guest of her family’s throughout the day. Her mother kindly took us on various excursions, and every night, would make a giant feast after a long…

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