Why 'Cassandra Syndrome' doesn't explain everything
Your neurodiverse relationship is a mystery to others
What is Cassandra Syndrome?
The term Cassandra Syndrome is often tossed around in conversations about and among women in neurodiverse relationships. Before going any further, let’s define some terms.
Cassandra
In Greek mythology, Cassandra promised herself to Apollo in exchange for the gift of prophecy. Once she received it, however, she went back on her word and refused him. As a god, Apollo could not revoke his gift, so he punished Cassandra with the curse that though she might speak the truth, no one would believe her.*see below
Cassandra Syndrome
Cassandra Syndrome/Condition is a term often used to describe the experience of the neurotypical partner in a neurodiverse relationship when she feels that by recounting her own experience, she is disbelieved by friends, family, and even mental health professionals. This can lead her to experience confusion, self-doubt, anger, depression, anxiety, as well as physical symptoms associated with stress. This emotional status is real. She is not being dramatic, narcissistic, needy - or any of the other words she might hear as she speaks from people who don’t understand her.
Sometimes, you’ll come across this term: Ongoing Traumatic Relationship Syndrome (OTRS)
This term is used as another way to describe the feeling of emotional abuse experienced by some neurotypical partners in neurodiverse relationships. It includes the experience of feeling alone and neglected in an intimate relationship.
And then there’s this: Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (cPTSD)
This term describes the ongoing experience of trauma as differentiated from a single or one-time traumatic event and is often used to describe the experience of the neurotypical partner in a neurodiverse relationship. It includes the state of constant vigilance required to manage what feels like predictable emotional abuse caused by the partner’s behavior.
Why I have a problem with all of this
These terms all leave me with the experience I have when I consider the tale of the seven blind men describing an elephant: the trunk is not elephant; the tail is not elephant; the bulk is not elephant. If you combine the perspective of all seven, you might come up with a workable understanding of elephant.
However, this understanding will be imperfect. It provides no information that explains why the elephant is built the way it is: there is nothing about the elephant’s requirements, its natural habitat, its role in the ecosystem.
Analogously, depending upon where you focus on the neurodiverse relationship experience of a neurotypical partner, you will come up with a definition that makes sense for part but not all of the picture.
You cannot understand any of these terms without contextualizing them in the clash of two neurotypes, allistic/neurotypical and autistic, whose needs, way of being in the world, and ways of responding to the world are different based in differences in the structures of the two brains.
Am I suggesting you throw out all these terms? NO!
Each of these terms can provide a window into the neurotypical experience. However, if you are truly concerned with the underlying dynamics of the neurodiverse relationship, it is important to include the autistic experience in the conversation.
If you describe your experience in terms of Cassandra Syndrome, remember you’re describing your reaction. Therefore, there must be a cause out there somewhere. What is it? Why does it affect you this way? Are you possibly misconstruing your partner’s intent by projecting onto him what his behavior would mean if you did it yourself? This is not easy to discern. But it has to be part of the equation in order to account for the variables in your experience.
The Tragic Dance
The pain of both partners must be included in any conversation about the challenges in a neurodiverse relationship. Partners love each other. They don’t want to hurt each other. But they do. Over and over again. The music plays and the couple dances, but it never feels the way they thought it would feel to dance together.
Remember:
None of the conditions defined above are imposed intentionally on the neurotypical/allistic partner by the autistic partner.
If you want to understand how a woman can describe her experience in terms of Cassandra Syndrome, don’t you also want to know why?
If she says no one believes her, isn’t it important to understand why?
If her experience is best described as traumatic, isn’t the reason for that also important?
Getting back to Cassandra
The reason women who describe their emotional experience in relationships with autistic men are so often not believed is because two things are true at the same time: her experience is valid, while others view him as, for example, the successful, well-respected, honorable friend/employee/boss he is in their lives.
Others view him in terms of their own experience with him, not in terms of hers. They consider their experience and doubt her version of reality because it contradicts what they think they know about her husband.
The reason they see him one way and she experiences the relationship her way is because the very nature of the intimate relationship places more complex conditions and expectations on the autistic partner than any social or professional relationship with clearly defined boundaries. No one will ever understand the inside of someone else’s relationship, but neurodiverse relationships can be particularly difficult to conceptualize for those who are not in one.
A better way to understand: Maxine Aston and Affective Deprivation Disorder
Maxine Aston is a British psychologist who speaks very clearly on matters related to neurodiverse relationships. This is how she understands the neurotypical experience: she calls it Affective Deprivation Disorder.
“AfDD is not a mental disorder caused by childhood trauma, emotional pain, or a congenital disability. It is a condition that is rooted in the dynamics of the relationship. It is caused by low emotional intelligence or an inability of recognize emotions (alexithymia) in either or both partners.”
This understanding is respectful to both partners, since most of the time, both partners suffer in this relationship. Exploring the possibility of alexithymia - an impaired ability to notice, name, and talk about one’s own feelings and the feelings of others, which often accompanies autism - is important in the neurodiverse relationship because it helps partners understand the difference between what is possible and what is not. I frequently recommend the use of this chart showing the language of emotions for couples struggling with alexithymia.
What to tell your therapist
If you are the neurotypical partner in a neurodiverse relationship and you are working with a therapist, it is critical that you provide information that you recognize or suspect neurodiversity in your relationship because many therapists do not understand this specific dynamic or don’t recognize it in a client’s narrative if only terms like Cassandra’s Syndrome or Complex PTSD are used to describe it. The lack of intention to hurt one another is a critical piece of information when one or both partners feel hurt consistently. Otherwise, you are at risk for being misunderstood (and possibly misdiagnosed) by your therapist, which is an awful feeling if you’re already thinking in terms of Cassandra Syndrome.
Take it all in
Your feelings are valid. Your emotional state is real. It is imperative that you believe this and not fall prey to anyone who is suggesting otherwise. The challenge lies in coming to terms with the fact that your autistic partner is most likely not trying to hurt or neglect or criticize you on purpose. As difficult as this may be to come to terms with, understanding it creates the path toward discernment and the possibility of healing for both of you.
Here is a link to an article I wrote several years ago to help therapists recognize that a client may be in a neurodiverse relationship without realizing it: https://www.goodtherapy.org/blog/identifying-the-partner-of-someone-who-may-be-autistic-theyre-usually-misdiagnosed-0205205
*Unraveling ‘Cassandra Syndrome’
Regarding Cassandra of myth: notice that when the term Cassandra Syndrome was developed, it included only the part of the myth in which Cassandra was condemned to tell the truth without being believed. But that wasn’t where the story began. It began when Cassandra promised to marry Apollo in exchange for a great gift, and then when she received it, she refused him. In other words, to concentrate solely on the punishment is to miss the part that Cassandra herself changed her mind.
Including the entire myth is a much better way to describe the neurodiverse relationship. If Cassandra in good faith agreed to marry Apollo in exchange for what she viewed as a great gift, isn’t that similar to a neurotypical woman agreeing to marry a man she believed to be a wonderful partner for her, the gift of his partnership in marriage? Only when she comes to see what that gift really is - that her autistic partner is not able to be the neurotypical partner of her expectations - does she begin to struggle and experience his treatment of her as intentional cruelty. However, it is not likely to be accurate to ascribe cruel intentions to an autistic partner who loves her.
She must learn to see how her expectations are not a mandate for her partner; she must learn to see him as he is and not as how she imagined he would be. It takes time. The process can be very difficult for both partners.
This is why understanding the autistic side of the relationship is equally important when you’re trying to understand your own. Seeing yourselves as distinctly different neurotypes provides the context for understanding how partners who love each other can still repeatedly hurt each other without intending to do so.
My husband never validates my feelings. If he does anything that shames or hurts me, he will twist things around so that whatever happened appears to be my fault and he won’t budge from this opinion. Then if I am frustrated or angry about him blaming me, he shames me about my anger and says I need to “see a therapist” about my anger. It’s a traumatic cycle that we go through and it’s getting the best of me.
It’s impossible for me to simply say that something he did upset me and expect any kind of understanding or support from him.
However, to everyone else he’s patient, supportive and kind. He’ll take up anyone’s side, and if I’m involved, his opinion is that I’m always the one who makes trouble.
I’m just heartbroken and lost and I honestly don’t know if it’s him or me anymore. I doubt myself so much which is not how I used to be.
If my husband were regularly dropping bricks on my feet, how much would we focus on the fact that he doesn't intend any harm and that my whining about broken toes was annoying to him?