In my life, there has always been a certain amount of trepidation with friends.

I know full well that having friends is a good thing. I’m also certain that my life would be lacking without the friends I do have. Having moments when I help a friend who feels down and out, or is crying over a relationship, represents an extraordinary moment, as I realize that I am a source of comfort. Though unable to completely erase a person’s pain, I am someone who can ease a friend’s troubles just by my presence.

I’ve always recognized the importance of friendship. Yet, because of Asperger’s syndrome, I’ve endured a constant struggle to make and maintain any friendships.

The defining characteristics of people with Asperger’s make obtaining friends difficult. Asperger’s syndrome is part of a spectrum of autistic disorders, all linked by a level of non-communication. At the lowest level exist cases like my 13-year-old brother, Eric, a person whose communication is only at the most rudimentary level— about the level of a non-expressive 2 or 3 year old.

Among several forms at the highest level of the autistic spectrum is Asperger’s syndrome. Those with Asperger’s often suffer from many symptoms. The most prominent include difficulty reading people’s body language, a slight monotone voice, a struggle with proper body distance, a singular interest in a subject or several subjects (I personally have one major interest in rock music, compulsively looking for new reviews and obsessing over the best quality of sound), and a tendency to use a vocabulary of a slightly higher sophistication than most people would use (such as when I employ words like vitriolic, inundate, smorgasbord, plethora, paraphernalia).

Every person with Asperger’s may not experience every single trait listed, but I have experienced all of these symptoms to some degree. Couple these traits with a fairly shy personality— a shyness that may or may not have anything to do with Asperger’s syndrome— and I often feel like everyone sees me as quiet and not worth talking to.

Truthfully, this is too bleak a prognosis. Despite all the biological factors behind Asperger’s, I have made progress. I am no longer classified as needing special education, I have acquired friends I like stupendously and I can talk to people other than my family. These are all great things, worthy of accolades. However, despite this progress, I still find it extraordinarily hard to make genuine contact with new people. There remains an invisible barrier between new acquaintances and myself that typically prevents me from initiating the first word of a conversation.

I realize my inhibitions in large part because of role models like my Grandpa Dan. When I am with Grandpa Dan on vacation, I count on him as someone who opens up to everyone he sees. The world gets regaled by this giant of a man, talking about growing up poor in the streets of Brooklyn with his father and brothers, being a garment maker before joining the army during World War Two, and using his entrepreneurial spirit to start and run a camera store that still exists in Elizabeth, New Jersey.

The way Grandpa Dan speaks, everyone in earshot gets entranced, prompting listeners to wish it were possible to travel back in time to witness all of Dan’s tales firsthand. On all three vacations I have been on with Grandpa Dan, he’s managed to dance with a different partner each time. I’ve only danced once with someone. Yet, every time I see Grandpa Dan in motion, I wonder whether I might one day achieve his level of comfort— a smoothness gained by years of experiences and special moments. I have my doubts.

Worse than the problem of making new friends is the problem I have being a real friend to others. While I possess plenty of admirable qualities, such as an absolute loyalty to my friends and the aforementioned willingness to help all of my friends when they’re down, there are two traits I continue to have a hard time overcoming. My demons: shyness and self-doubt. Within my group of friends, I feel as if I’m always the quiet one, the one who doesn’t contribute much value to any discussions. I endlessly worry about being considered dull and uninteresting.

Though I know people aren’t actively thinking such thoughts, the possibility bothers me. This generally prevents me from asking people if they want to hang out somewhere. I never feel there is anything interesting I could offer to potential friends at my house, including any engaging activities. At times, I feel as if I’m an introverted extrovert, someone who lives a generally solitary life but desires interactions with others.

Assuming I’ll one day fully accept myself as someone I want to be, I recognize I have a long way to go in feeling completely great about myself. However, I know it is foolish to constantly dwell on what could and should be. After all, not everyone in high school, or even beyond high school and in adulthood, is fully adjusted and happy. In other words, those with Asperger’s syndrome aren’t the only ones with identity issues. As the R.E.M tune goes, “Everybody Hurts.” Yet, implicit in this message, everyone also heals— no matter who their friends may be.

Scott Goldfarb is 18 years old and a senior at the Jonathan Dayton High School in Springfield, New Jersey. He hopes to go to college in New York City, such as New York University or Columbia, or in another major city in the northeast and become a social worker, like his grandmother, Uncle Ron, Aunt Sherry and cousin Jessica. Goldfarb has traveled with his Grandfather Dan to Europe, China and Mexico by cruise. Feel free to e-mail him at scottg530@comcast.net.

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