One man's explanation is another man's excuse

Don't ask the question if you don't want an answer.

*creeps sheepishly back into your inbox*

Oh, hey there…

I know, I know. It’s been a long time.

“What happened,” you ask?

Great question, I would love to tell you.¹

But first I want to make sure we’re on the same page about what exactly it is I’m sharing. Because I’ve learned the hard way that what I call “explanations” are sometimes interpreted as “excuses” by neurotypicals.

But they’re not the same.

An explanation provides additional context and insight into how or why something happened. Explanations fill in the blanks that otherwise make a situation hard to understand.

An excuse provides additional context too, but usually in an attempt to evade responsibility or get out of trouble. It’s an explanation given with subtext along the lines of “It’s not my fault and here’s why.”

When I hear a question like “Why are you late?” I interpret it as it’s presented: as a question. And since we’ve largely agreed as a society that when someone asks you a question, you should answer it, I assume you would like me to give more information about why I wasn’t able to arrive on time (or whatever else you’re asking about).

But as soon as I open my mouth or limber up my typing fingers to reply, I’m hit with accusations of “making excuses.”

And it confuses me, every single time...

As far as I can tell, a lot of “excuses” are just explanations someone doesn’t want.

Because it turns out a lot of questions deployed by neurotypicals are not actually questions. Instead, they’re accusations or insults, grammatically disguised as inquiries.

“Why are you late?” probably means something like “I feel disrespected by your late arrival and I’m angry at you.”

With all the love in the world for the neurotypicals in my life, it’s absolutely wild to me that my inability to decode this sort of thing serves as evidence that neurodivergent folks are the ones struggling with proper communication.

But no, you go ahead and ask a question and then get mad when somebody answers it. That’s on me… apparently. 👀

ANYWAY. On to the Explanation.

It’s true. I haven’t written a newsletter in the last month or so.

And I say this without shame or guilt because it was an entirely intentional choice, made not only out of necessity but through a hard-earned willingness to give myself grace in times of need. (Hooray for therapy!)

My maternal grandfather—with whom I was incredibly close—passed away mid-November, kicking off a multi-week grief spiral I really struggled to get out of. The process of writing his obituary was incredibly healing, though, and I now find comfort in the fact that I think he’d really like how it turned out. (You can read it here, if you like.)

Pops passed just a few days after my childhood cat passed, and just a few days before we made the 12+ hour drive up North to visit our families, spread across two states, for Thanksgiving week.

A week away from home and routine has the potential to be stressful, even without the cloud of grief hanging over me. Add in the fact that we’re navigating the holidays with a child with a nut allergy, and parenting in one people-packed non-childproof place after another, and it can be a lot to manage.

When we made the 12+ hour return drive to North Carolina, we got home just in time for me to board a flight to Toronto for my final trip of the year. Not long after I landed back home, I went in for hernia repair surgery and spent the next few days recovering horizontally, but still somehow unable to find a comfortable way to sleep.

Only now, a solid 6-7 weeks after this busy period started, am I starting to feel like myself again.

I’m getting back to walking (albeit not a lot, and not fast), and now that I’m weaned off the painkillers, I can drive again (although not far). I still can’t lift my kiddo up for a few weeks, and it’s hard to say which of us is more upset about it. The fog of grief has largely lifted, and I feel myself thinking more clearly, laughing without feeling guilty and reminiscing without crying.

I wouldn’t say I’m feeling “inspired” again quite yet, but I’ve been able to write more in the last few days than I did in the weeks prior.

Slowly, steadily, I’m making my way back to me.

And to you.

Thanks for waiting for me. 🩷

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1. Shoutout to Elyse Meyers for this phrase