form relationships with me, but they held no attraction for me at all. I would rather chase what I could not capture. I only wanted what was unattainable and scorned every man that was actually available to me.
Learning about Asperger’s
It has always been a mystery to me why I engaged in “stalking” types of behavior. I have analyzed it as I would a legal problem and still come up empty-handed. It even puzzled my therapist. She suggested that I write to Dr Tony Attwood, a world-famous expert in Asperger’s syndrome. I did, and he actually wrote back. Dr Attwood replied that many Aspies engage in stalking-type activity and likened it to a special interest. Another person becomes the object of fascination, rather than an academic subject or a set of facts.
About 12 years ago, one of the attorneys I worked for sent me to the library to research Asperger’s syndrome. He represented a local couple whose 18-year-old son had received a diagnosis of Asperger’s. The attorney wanted to know if an adult Aspie would be considered legally competent to handle his own affairs. I asked my boss what Asperger’s was. He said, “It’s a little bit autistic.” I had not read much before I realized that all the symptoms described in the literature applied to me. At that time, however, it was just a label. It was good to know that there were people like myself out there, but the information seemed of no practical value. It was just another obscure fact I had collected. After all, I was already over 40, and I thought any opportunity for a better life was far behind me.
Finding My Tour Guide Job
Then, in the winter of 2002, I came across an ad for part-time tour guides at Kykuit, the Rockefeller Estate. I had grown up when Nelson Rockefeller was the governor of New York, and, history and politics being special interests of mine, I knew something about the Rockefeller family. However, Nelson had died some years before, and since then I had not given him a passing thought. I did need a new part-time job, though. My attorney-friend in Connecticut was closing her practice, and that source of income had to be replaced. Kykuit sounded like fun—just the kind of quirky, offbeat work that Aunt Rose had wisely suggested I might be most suited for (like my job working at the proms, which I loved). I sent in my application, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me in my adult life.
To this day, I wonder how I passed the screening process. I persuaded one of my attorney-bosses to write me a recommendation, and I was hired. Everyone I work with at Kykuit is ten times more poised, graceful, self-assured, and sophisticated than I could ever be. That was the glamour that drew me to them. I wanted to be one of them.
I Love My Tour Guide Job and Learned How to Keep It
I loved the job from the start. The subject matter was right up my alley. Soon I could spout off the names and dates of Chinese dynasties and modern art movements as though it was second nature. The site itself was beautiful, wondrous, and a natural haven for a troubled mind. That is why the first John D. Rockefeller built it—as a refuge from a world that had provided him with amazing financial success but hated him for it. Best of all, the other guides did not automatically shun me or call me ‘weird.’ Many of them were older women, and when my mother died, they comforted me and got me through it. The job provided me with the structure I needed in my life. When you are writing a freelance legal brief, you can get out of bed or not; there is no one standing over you. However, when you are scheduled to conduct a tour at 10 o’clock in the morning, you’d better be there, or else. I was so desperate to keep this job that I forced myself to look visitors in the eye, even when I didn’t want to. I looked at my watch and hurried my groups along so I wouldn’t run late; I concentrated on speaking with inflection and projecting my voice. Talking for 2 hours was not the part that was difficult; like many Aspies, I can talk a blue streak on a subject in which I am interested. The trick was talking in a way that made people want to listen. All through the winter between my first and second seasons, I practiced before the mirror, like a trial lawyer preparing his closing argument. I tried out my new techniques with Aunt Rose. I knew I had finally found a place where I felt I belonged.
By dint of sheer self-will, I developed enough skills to hang on to my job. I became an adequate guide, and then, over the years, I became a very good guide. The job became my anchor through all the rough patches to come, such as the death of my father and Aunt Rose. In the case of Aunt Rose, not only had I lost my caregiver, but I had lost the last person in the world who really cared about me.
Losing My Family Was Very Traumatic
I imagine that losing one’s family is traumatic for anyone, but to an autistic person it can seem like the worst thing that could happen. Many of us lack the ability to form strong friendships or relationships, and when we lose our family of origin, there is no one to fill the void. After Aunt Rose died, I had to vacate her home, and this increased my stress levels. Depression and anxiety overwhelmed me.
However, the Kykuit season was about to start, and I liked guiding so much that I decided to seek therapy and find out, once and for all, what was “wrong” with me. In this manner, I came to receive a diagnosis of Asperger’s at the age of 54. I delved into learning about my diagnosis. I read books and scoured the Internet for information on the autism spectrum. I met other adult Aspies, both online and in person. I was pleased to find that, although my autism would not go away, my symptoms could be alleviated with small doses of an antidepressant (buproprion) and an antianxiety medication (klonopin).
Diagnosis Gave Me a New Perspective
A wise Frenchwoman once said that to understand all is to forgive all. Once I began to understand myself, I looked at the pattern of my past through a new perspective and began to forgive myself for all the repeated mess-ups in my life. I felt that I was finally able to move on.
At Kykuit, I had rediscovered the Real Me—the brave, spunky child that I was before I sank down into despair. My job as a tour guide has at last offered me an opportunity to shine and to develop skills I always wanted to possess. My self-Confidence has grown, and I have actually been able to make friends.
I have added my own unique spin to the tour, which visitors seem to love. While my colleagues focus on the more dynamic characters of the Rockefeller family—John D. Rockefeller, Sr, or Nelson Rockefeller—I often talk about the generation in between. John D. Rockefeller, Jr, and I have a lot of traits in common. Like me, he had a hard time fitting in. He was fascinated by history and classical art. He felt so out of place in the 20th century that he built Colonial Wil-liamsburg and spent a portion of each year at his home there. Just as the image of the IBM cubicle was impressed upon me in my youth as the archetypal job, “Junior” was always expected to follow in his father’s footsteps and take over the Standard Oil Company. Like me, he had a lot of false starts, disappointments, and inner struggles before he realized he was simply not cut out to be a corporate executive. He knew he had to chart his own course in life.
Reconnection with My Childhood Friend
Last summer, a Christian tour group visited Kykuit, and I was their guide. One of the ladies had an identification tag with the name of the small town in North Carolina to which Alexis had moved 30 years before—the last time I had heard from her. As a lark, I asked the lady whether she knew Alexis. To my stunned delight, another visitor suddenly exclaimed, “Alexis? I work with her!” As it turned out, the visitor was a nurse at a hospital where Alexis is the chaplain. I gave her my e-mail address, and now I have reconnected with my childhood best friend. This is the kind of intangible treasure I have found through my work at Kykuit.
I have never become exactly like the other guides here, but in my eyes I’ve managed to become something even more meaningful. I’ve finally become myself.
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