Why Media Representation Matters

My journey as an independant author began, at least in part, because I never saw myself represented in media.

Oh, there were characters I loved, certainly. Some characters that I could relate to, a little, in one way or another.

But nothing that ever made me feel seen.

In fairness to media, I'm a bit of a niche character, and it would be hard to fit me into a single character, especially in the media that was produced as I was growning up.

As an Elder Millennial, a lot of the media I was exposed to came in two types: it either had a Token Female Character (who usually became a love interest), or it was a female led franchise, with the female characters fitting particular archtypes.

I was in my 20s before Mainstream Medicine even started to seriously explore the possibility that girls could be Autistic while presenting different symptoms to Autistic Boys.

While Tamora Pierce eventually confirmed Sandry and Kel as Asexual, it wasn't really a main plot point in their books (understandable, since both were introduced as ten-year-olds, and had bigger concerns than exploring their sexuality), and I was in my 30s by the time I discovered that interview.

Same-Sex relationships nearly always come with explicit scenes, to dispel the "Just Very Good Friends" claim.

I've seen myself in bits and pieces in other media growing up.

In Ladyhawke, where the titular character appeared and disappeared, kept seperate by a mysterious unexplained force.

In Sarah from Labyrinth, feeling overlooked and unheard, and the appreciable mystique over how much of her frustration is teenage angst, and how much is external forces not respecting her requested boundaries.

In Trisana Chandler, othered and excluded over something she couldn't control, and finally gaining acceptance in found family.

In Keladry of Midelan, so relatable in the hidden and unhidden barriers she faced, with only her own hard work to get her past them, and an open ending, so much still unwritten.

In Percy Weasley, clinging to rules and the Way Things Are as a refuge against frightening change, who made mistakes but owned up to them.

In Agatha of the Woods Beyond, whose own insecurity and self doubt is her own worst enemy.

In Mary and Miss Bates, from Pride and Prejudice and Emma, wishing to say something very intelligen, but not knowing how.

In Aziraphale, fussy and particular, and rules-lawyering and an unrepentant biblophile.

But I never saw me

Honestly, the first time I felt really seen by media was in the latest Season of Bridgerton, with the relationship between John and Francesca.

I binge-watched it by myself, then re-watched it with my partner, and we spent a lot of time pausing episodes to gush over Autistic-Coded Slow-Burn Romance. (and screech about the main couple being Unhinged Disasters, but that's a different subject...)

Why? Because watching them on screen felt a lot like watching my own Neurodiverse Love Story. Existing together without the need to talk, non-traditional love languages, mutual support in mentally taxing social situations. Learning to advocate for themselves and each other because finally there is someone who understands you.

John transcribed music for Francesca when she said that a tune would sound better in a different pace and key. My Beloved sends me writing prompts and listens while I rant out the problems I'm having with my novels. (Her laughter is the best antidote to Plot-Hole-Induced Depression).

There's no doubt that Francesca loves John romantically. (...) But...

In all their courtship, they barely did more than hold hands.

Francesca isn't Colin or Anthony, bedding her spouse before they even proposed. She isn't Daphne, letting the fires of passion blow caution to the wind.

...

She and John kissed for the first time on their wedding day, and that's a heck of a time to discover that the attraction you thought would appear in time... isn't there.

Autistic, Asexual romance is dang hard to find, unless it's being used as a comedy punchline to show what hopeless losers the characters are.

Bridgerton may have its flaws, but in at least one sense, it delivered in spades.

For the first time, I saw myself.

Part of a large and loving family, but feeling like an outsider. Muddling alone as best I could, and finally finding peope who understood me. Choosing my own happy ending, even if it wasn't what the people around me expected.

Then, meeting Michaela, and the Bluescreen Expression of 'girls were an option???'

I didn't realise how much that would mean, until I saw it.