It’s common for a psychologist to want to interview the parents of an adult seeking an autism assessment. But this can backfire.
It can also provide major insights to the examiner. The influence of a parent in an adult’s autism evaluation can swing hard both ways.
In late 2021 I had made up my mind to undergo a complete ASD evaluation – which couldn’t be scheduled until the following February.
There was no way I was going to have my parents involved.
First off, my mother would’ve thought I was nuts to undergo an autism assessment.
My father? He would’ve certainly understood why I’d want to do this. That’s because at least 20 years prior, one of my sisters told him I had all the signs of Asperger’s.
I didn’t learn this factoid until she revealed it to me after I told her of my diagnosis in March 2022. I was floored.
She added that our father had vehemently denied the possibility and told her never to mention it again.
Fast-forward to 2022. Imagine my father hearing from me that a psychologist needed his input, regarding my childhood, for my autism evaluation.
He would not have participated, but – he would’ve realized that my sister had probably been right all along.
I’ll never know if in the ensuing years, after she mentioned it to him, he had done some research on Asperger’s (this term was changed to Autism Spectrum Disorder in 2013). His research would’ve revealed that I fit the profile.
Now, about my mother. She had never believed much in psychology.
One day she commented that the field of psychology was – to paraphrase – full of holes and not real, because the various mental disorders couldn’t be objectively shown with blood tests, scans and other medical technology.
Funny thing is, many physical ailments can’t even be shown with tests, such as irritable bowel syndrome, fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue syndrome, a strained muscle and silent reflux.
Though by 2022, autism in a “high functioning” presentation had made a lot of headway as far as public awareness, my mother would’ve been completely out of this loop – still seeing it as only in its severe form: language impairment, violent outbursts, inability to attend a normal school and other pronounced disabilities.
She probably would’ve thought “high functioning autism” referred to someone like Rain Man – disabled enough to require lifelong caretaking, but abled enough to carry on some conversation and other “normal” things.
My mother would’ve told the psychologist, “Absolutely NOT! Under no circumstances could my daughter have autism! She’s very intelligent, a college graduate, lives on her own, has done a tremendous job taking care of me and her father with our medical needs, has driven us to doctor appointments, helped me recover from heart surgery – where did this cockamamie idea come from?!”
My mother then would’ve asked me, “Who put this ridiculous idea in your head that you’re autistic?”
Secretly Interviewing the Parents About Their Grown Kid’s Childhood
Is it possible to get the parents involved without them knowing why? It seems as though this can be pulled off, with enough cleverness.
But this maneuver would have to be done remotely in order to succeed.
If the interview is done in person, plan busted, even if they don’t know the evaluation is for autism. They’ll clearly know that some evaluation is going on.
Same with over the phone; they’d know something was up and insist on knowing why – ahead of the interview.
If you want to keep a psych eval secret from your parents, the interview would have to be done in the form of answering questions on paper.
Your examiner would have to provide you with the specific questions. You’d then have to conjure up one heck of a clever reason to ask your parents to answer the questions in writing without arousing their suspicions.
This can be achieved easier than you might think, depending on your relationship with your parents.
You can say it’s some personality test you’re taking online, for the fun of it, and parental input is part of the questionnaire.
Ironically, this would’ve gotten past my mother incredibly easily, as she never used a computer!
On the other hand, my father probably would’ve thought, “Hmmm…is she taking some psychology test because she thinks she has something?” However, he would’ve kept that to himself and written down his answers.
“All My Kids Were Perfect Growing Up”
Even if a parent can be talked into attending an autism assessment, this doesn’t mean they can provide insight.
No matter how obvious, as I look back with hindsight, some of my autistic traits were at times during my childhood, my mother never saw them as a psychological or psychiatric diagnosis.
She just thought I was odd, socially awkward or not good at making friends like my sisters were, disrespectful, immature, impatient, disobedient, inattentive and also, whatever usually comes with a child who’s artistic.
My father had been more tolerant of my differentness, but probably chalked it up to being an artist and musician.
Both my parents were professional musicians on the side: My father directed church choirs and could play the piano and had once played the violin. My mother was the organist and was playing Rachmaninoff when she was nine.
Certainly they knew that musically minded people could be a little different from the mainstream; I played the piano all through childhood – and had impressive drawing talent. Of course I was different!
But just what would my mother have told the psychologist had she agreed to meet in person, knowing that I was undergoing some sort of mental evaluation but not knowing it was for autism?
As years went on, my mother’s perception of her kids evolved into a memory that we had all been perfect little angels.
- Gone was the memory of how odd, impatient and socially challenged she’d always thought I was (though to be fair, she had never put any pressure on me to have a social life).
- Gone was how odd she thought one of my brothers was (it’s clear that he’s on the Spectrum).
Below is how an interview with my mother probably would’ve gone.
My father would’ve backed off, figuring that my mother could speak for the both of them.
“When did Lorra begin speaking her first words and forming sentences?”
“Oh, all my kids were talking full sentences long before they were two. From a very early age, Lorra has always had an excellent vocabulary.”
“How did she interact with other children — did she seek out friendships or tend to play alone?”
“Lorra was always well-behaved with other children; there were never any problems. I never had any complaints. She was always such a good kid.
“She didn’t have many friends, but what was more important were her grades. She was always a good student and behaved in class.”
“But what about social play? What’s your recollection of her seeking out friendships, or did she prefer solitary play?”
“There were no issues. She was always a good kid. I think in grade school she had one really good friend, but I never had to worry about her going off with the wrong crowd when she got older.
“She spent a lot of time drawing and playing the piano. We had a big yard, and she’d figure out things to do outside. She rode her bike a lot.
“In the summer she went to the swimming pool, and I do remember she’d go to the ice skating rink in the winter.”
“But did she have close friends, at least in junior high or high school?”
“I don’t remember too many close friends. She was always more interested in doing things on her own around the house.
“I know she did some sports in high school, so she was around plenty of kids for her sports.”
“Did Lorra have any strong, repetitive interests or behaviors when she was young?”
“Oh yes! She just loved to draw, all the time! And she’d play the piano.
“I do remember at one point she wanted the whole house to be full of plants. We had a lot of plants and she took care of them.
“She was very intelligent, so of course she had strong interests. Oh yeah, she had a rock collection; seashells too.”
“But were any of those interests obsessive? Was she ever too interested in something to the point where it became concerning?”
“You know, now that you bring that up, she was obsessed with sharks at one point.
“She couldn’t stop talking about sharks. It was that movie, ‘Jaws.’ That’s all she talked about. I had to tell her to stop it.
“I think she also became infatuated with that TV show – what was it – the ‘Hulk’? That green monster. She got carried away with that.
“But I guess that’s just normal kid stuff. She outgrew it.”
“Were there any unusual reactions to sounds, textures, routines or changes in her environment?”
“Well (laughter), she was always asking me to remove the tags in any new clothes.
“In fact, I’d eventually take them out before she even asked. As she got older she took them out herself. Is that what you mean by texture? She also never liked loud sounds.
“She never had any problems with new routines. She did what she was told. We had rules, and all my kids knew they’d better obey the rules.”
In this mock but highly probable scenario, my mother doesn’t quite paint me as definitely having autism. This is why parent interviews can backfire.
What my mother didn’t tell the examiner was that I had a strong aversion to using plastic drinking cups and standard-size spoons. I had to use glasses and soup spoons. My nickname was “Big Spoon.”
She forgot to mention the hyperfixation I’d had with the Kahoutek Comet, the intense interest in window shades, and the odd fascination with the abduction and murder of young cousins Renaldo Goldsby and Virgil Stone. And placing naked crayons on the baseboard registers so that the heat could bend them. And the complete lack of a social life in high school.
In fact, there were issues all throughout school, that I now realize were directly related to my autism, that my parents never even knew about.
Is the parent interview necessary for an autism diagnosis?
No, of course not. First of all, not all adults who want the ASD assessment still have their parents around, or are estranged. Psychologists know this.
Second, though the parent interview would help in cases in which the patient has poor recall of their childhood, it wouldn’t be paramount in patients who have detailed and objective memories.
Third, manifestation of autism has been known to become increasingly pronounced as kids get older, becoming even stronger once they leave home for college.
This is because as we get older, social demands increase; expectations for fitting in and “acting normal” also increase.
Peculiar behavior, offbeat interests and hyperfixations, taking things too literally, bluntness, etc., that were seen as acceptable, cute or a sign of high intelligence in a young child are no longer seen that way once the kid hits high school and especially college.
Thus, any autism that the parents could’ve observed might have been below the radar in younger childhood, then coming out full-on in young adulthood.
For example, only when I first began living in a college dorm did I realize I couldn’t figure out how to do eye contact when I was approaching someone in the long corridor who was walking towards me.
And I never told my parents this. How could they then relay it to the psychologist?
Let’s not forget that some late diagnosed adults did a pretty good job of masking (acting “normal”) in childhood to avoid ridicule or punishment.
Their parents then wouldn’t have much insight to share with the examiner.
If you’re ready to seek out an ASD assessment but know that your parents won’t be available to provide feedback, don’t fret.
A seasoned psychologist can easily observe your autism without your parents’ involvement.
And yes, a highly qualified examiner will give you tests that will show autism no matter how well you mask!
