
Miya Sae (MEE-yuh SAI) is the author of The Autistic Whosoever—Autism, Confusion, and
Following Jesus. Forever a Pokémon master at heart, she loves to dream, write, explore ideas,
and occasionally make amateur-level fanart. She will infodump about her special interests if you
let her. When she’s not creating content, she is usually watching anime, gaming, snuggling with
her cats, or planning her next Japan trip in great detail. SpongeBob references are a common
occurrence.
She currently lives in Arizona with her husband and their two feline children, Nebby
and Mochi. This week she shared her experiences surrounding her diagnosis and her mission to help others navigate the world as neurodivergent Christians.
Tell me a little about yourself. What are you passionate about?
I’m a potato (affectionate) who loves Jesus and a late-diagnosed autistic who is learning to embrace differences. I love anime, gaming, rock music, cats, and most of all, the God who has done the absolute coolest things in my life. My passion project the last several years has been to shine some light on how neurodiversity glows in light of God’s love and to emphasize our value as created humans despite cultural stigmas.
Your website mentions that you strive “to contribute to bridging the neglected gap between autism and Christianity.” Can you share what this means and how you are trying to do this?
Autism stigma from society naturally bleeds into church culture, and it manifests in several, sometimes unexpected ways. I was taught that liking something a lot or spending a lot of time engaging with it is idolatry and therefore sinful. As an autistic person, I’ve always been monotropic and naturally hyperfixate on my interests. A large percentage of my thoughts are daydreams about fictional characters and I’ve spent countless hours in fandoms. Shame from both religious and secular perspectives sent me into a dark place for a long time, and I thought I had to keep such a big part of me secret. I’ve come to learn through wise counsel that it’s actually okay to enjoy things a lot and to have a deep appreciation for the awesome things God creates. Just because a tendency is viewed as unusual by larger society doesn’t automatically mean it’s a problem in need of fixing or “repentance.”
This is one example, but there are many ways autistic Christians are shamed and belittled. Autism is rarely talked about in a positive light in church settings. It’s not something that needs to be “healed,” but is the way He fearfully and wonderfully made our brains before we were born. We are loved and worthy, not based on the productive things we can do, but because of the One who made us.
What was it like being diagnosed at the age of 26?
I was in autistic burnout before I had any idea what that was. I couldn’t last more than a few months at jobs and was targeted because of invisible struggles that made me lose the ability to mask. I was always told I had autism when I was younger, but that it went away, and I wasn’t supposed to be the weird kid anymore. In my extreme ignorance and internalized ableism, I held onto that belief for a long time until I had to get seen because I didn’t know what was wrong with me and why I couldn’t handle seemingly simple tasks. I was lucky in getting diagnosed on the spot, as the specialist was able to tell right away with all my eye stims, speech patterns, and the information I gave about my history. I still didn’t really know what autism was, but then fell down the rabbit hole of research and reading books by autistic authors. It was validation I didn’t know I needed.
Tell me about your book. Why did you write it? Who is your audience?
The Autistic Whosoever is a memoir focused on the themes of faith and autism. It was originally just going to be the story of why I became a Christian, but my autism journey over the years turned it into something so much bigger. I wanted to encourage people who never quite felt like they fit, point to God’s goodness, and provide insight to allistic people who don’t understand much about autism and the Christian faith through a neurodivergent lens. My experiences aren’t always conventional, and that’s okay.
Even though it’s a faith-based book, I really strived to make it relatable and beneficial to non-Christians as well, especially since a large percentage of the autistic community isn’t Christian. I wanted to be raw and not overly preachy, with a touch of humor. While neurodivergent Christians are the main target audience, I truly hope it’s enjoyable to readers of all walks of life and neurotypes.
What obstacles/roadblocks have you encountered in your autism advocacy work? How have you addressed them?
Being a new author, of course I chose the most difficult genre to market as a non-famous person. I sometimes feel like I’m caught between two sides that are often at war with each other, trying to make peace between both. I’m not the most conservative and I’m not interested in promoting unhelpful cliches, so I sometimes get pushback from the religious side. Likewise, being a Christian alone can lose interest from the secular side. I just try my best to bear good fruits of the Spirit with my life, with kindness being one of them, and trust that God will bring my content to whoever needs it. I try to always meet people where they’re at, like Jesus does with us.
What advice do you have for either Autistic people or those around them to help encourage authentic Autistic living?
Know that neurodiversity acceptance is a journey, especially if you’re diagnosed later in life. I’m still on it. But we are worthy human beings no matter what people say about us. Not even all the negative political propaganda going on now can change that. God calls us fearfully and wonderfully made, and so we are. We’re not defined by productivity, ableism, or whether we can read every subtle social cue. For the Christian, I’d recommend watching The Chosen and taking note of Jesus’ nondiscriminatory love towards Matthew, who is heavily autistic-coded.
For allistics, I implore you to listen to autistic people themselves. Listen to what we have to say and not what’s being said about us. We need allies who value us for who we are and not the idealized versions others wish we were. Have grace for our struggles (I say this to myself as well). We’re all humans doing our best in the ways we know how, regardless of neurology.