Let’s Work Together
“You’ll need to grow a thicker skin!” by Jane McNeice
- Posted on 16 January 2024
“You’ll need to grow a thicker skin!”
I half wondered what the senior colleague was saying at the time, my hyper-visual brain dragging me to a literal vision of thickening skin tissue. Eventually, I understood it to be that I needed to toughen up, not cry to the point of inconsolable, and to have some control.
It was 1995, I was 19. I had a 20-week-old baby at home, an extremely low mood, and I had started a new job 12 weeks earlier due to a lack of understanding of my maternity rights and needing to find a more local job and secure some income, believing my SMP (Statutory Maternity Pay) was coming to an end when it wasn’t. My employer had also misinformed me.
I had made an admin mistake in my new job, a mistake that someone else in the workplace took the blame for, and yes, it was blame rather than any intention to ensure the error didn’t happen again and to improve systems. And it was my fault.
I was inconsolable, upset because someone else had taken the blame for my mistake, upset because I loathe getting into trouble, and now I was being told I had to report to the medical consultant concerned, confess my culpability, and apologise, particularly because someone else had taken the blame. I stood with the senior colleague, cried in front of the consultant (I was already in tears and very dysregulated as I was marched to their office), became non-verbal, and created all-round embarrassment. I don’t even remember his response other than his reference to the impact of the situation and blame being hurled across the room between the two senior colleagues. Incidentally, the consultant didn’t seem too angry with me, but more so with them. Hindsight tells me there were underlying agendas.
Needless to say, I was destroyed by it all, and the following week – illustrative of an active grapevine – I was asked what had happened by another senior colleague, which resulted in them saying to me, “You’ll need to grow a thicker skin.”
Situations like this are the reasons undiagnosed neurodivergents need to know they are neurodivergent. Through a neurotypical lens, I needed to toughen up, take responsibility for an error on my part, and use effective communication to resolve the tension and conflict. Redress the harmony for all concerned.
Today, 2024, I now know I am Autistic, and a lot of what happened that day (and for which I suffered weeks of upset after, leading to my eventual resignation, and the trauma of which I still carry) could be explained by knowing I was Autistic – for everyone concerned. The most important reason I needed to know is because the event left me feeling I was faulty, to blame, that I had something wrong with me, and I was inadequate – not just because of the error, but because of how I responded emotionally. Despite how hard I tried, then and for a long time after, I could not seem to grow that damn thicker skin!
You see my Autism came with a gift, a beautiful gift, but one that is seen as a curse in our society. One that people often want to correct. I am a highly sensitive person, to hurt – physical and emotional – yours and my own. I am also an empath – you cry, I taste your tears – an HSP empath, if you will. I carry a heavy weight for these gifts. In spite of this fact, I wouldn’t change them for the world, and what I have come to know, and really needed to know back in 1995, is that…my skin will never become thicker, and what’s more, I am not faulty because of the fact that I am not ‘thicker skinned’.
I would later learn that I am not just an HSP empath but also Autistic and that many Autistic people are HSP Empaths (contrary to the pervasive myth that Autistics do not have empathy) and the situation when viewed through an Autistic lens, would have been viewed very differently…
A week or so before I left, one of the other clerks said to me, “You are the best one we have had so far.” The employer lost out too.
Situations like this, and they exist in their plenty for many Autistic people, become little and big ‘T’ traumas. They add to the already heavy weight that we carry living as neurodivergent in a neurotypical society, built by and to accommodate, the predominant neurotype – neurotypicals. We are left with he cognitive and emotional scars of a world that does not support our brain type.
Today, after my Autism diagnosis, and with the greater awareness that I am an HSP empath, which I had recognised well before my Autism self-identification in 2020 and diagnosis a year later, I accept that I am not flawed (not perfect either), but that I am within the realms of ‘good enough’ as a human being and as a worker. Good enough is more than okay.
Failure to recognise Autism and to support with neuro-affirming workplaces, and failure to see highly sensitive empathic people as a gift to society rather than something to correct, means that we can often end up feeling broken and wrong rather than nurtured and supported. We either work less effectively, or organisations have all the cost and disruption of losing good staff when we can’t cope and leave.
So, what needs to change?
Mind Matters has recently launched training that will support the development of Neurodiversity in the Workplace. Details can be found here.