“Sometimes it is the quiet observer that sees the most.” – Kathryn L. Nelson

I was, and still am, at 52 years young, socially awkward and struggle to feel like I fit in anywhere. Small talk? Shudder, no thanks. It’s so difficult, and honestly, it feels so pointless. It wasn’t until the age of 47 that I learned why. Yep, diagnosed autistic.

The diagnosis came with a whole heap of relief and a massive amount of validation. It was a vindication as to why I could never understand why I didn’t understand.

Since then, so much has fallen into place, and I’ve joined the dots on loads of things, but I’m going to focus here (pun intended) on the joined dots relating to my being a photographer and specifically when it comes to capturing people at all kinds of gatherings.

I think, at around the age of maybe 10 or 11, I subconsciously realised that being at these gatherings was just a bit easier if I had something to do while I was there, which is still very true to this day. It’s like some kind of security blanket which calms the anxiety. It also gives me purpose, a reason for being there.

Enter taking pictures. I was almost always the one with the camera.

As a result of not understanding or knowing what the social rules were, I ended up being on the periphery of my own life. I was very often on the outside, looking in, and this would actually stand me in very good stead for what was to come in my late thirties when I became a professional photographer.

Having a camera in my hand energises me. It changes me. It turns me into a socially confident human! It brings me to life, much like when my favourite tunes pull me onto the dance floor, or I hear music that moves me, or I have an incredible conversation with someone. I’m in a state of bliss. I’m home.

When I’m shooting, I go into this bubble. Everything that would normally distract or bother me on a sensory level (artificial light, noise and people) becomes inconsequential because I am now hyper-focused on wanting to capture the moments. I’m watching, and I’m waiting. (Side note: yep, I have ADHD too – diagnosed a year later). Taking photos is a wonderful mindfulness practice which calms the busy mind right down. I have to go quiet and go in – to be able to connect better with what’s going on around me. I am the quiet observer, and in other aspects of my life as well.

I also have this innate ability to pre-empt when something is about to happen. I don’t know how, but I’m often primed and ready to hit that shutter for a magic moment. I love how intuitive I am and how my sensitivity to the world and energy around me enhances what I do.

I have no doubt about it that it comes about because I’m neurodivergent.

Maybe this pre-emptive gift is actually something to do with pattern recognition. It’s very common in autistic and other neurodivergent or trauma-affected people. Maybe I’ve seen so many similar scenarios over the years that without knowing I’m doing it, that’s how I instinctively know what’s about to happen. I’ve only joined the dots on that one as I’m writing this now, so thank you for coming on that journey with me. Wow, that’s cool. Pattern recognition. That makes so much sense!

So here we have it. I am the photographer I am because I’m autistic, not in spite of it.

See, all those years of not fitting in, I’m watching the world around me; I’m constantly observing. All those years of being on the outside looking in and living on the periphery of my own life have shaped me and trained me to be the expert people-watcher I am today. It’s given me the skill of being able to read people and their behaviours and interactions, and knowing what they’re going to do before they do it.

I wouldn’t change being autistic for the world. Yes, it brings with it many, many struggles, but it also gives me this ability to see the world in a way no one else ever could and that, dear reader, is priceless.