Friendship is one of the greatest gifts of life—or so I’ve been told.
The truth is, I do want to be your friend. I love the idea of connection, the shared jokes, the sense of belonging. But sometimes, I need to not be your friend for a little while. Not because of anything you’ve done, but because my brain needs a break from everything.
This is the delicate dance of autistic friendship: wanting closeness but also needing solitude to recharge.
Why Friendship Feels Complicated
- Social Exhaustion:
- Hanging out with friends is fun, but it also means navigating conversations, picking up on cues, and managing sensory input. It’s rewarding but draining.
- Masking Fatigue:
- Even with close friends, I often find myself masking—laughing when I’m tired, nodding when I don’t understand, trying to keep up.
- The Guilt of Saying No:
- When I need alone time, I worry that my friends will think I don’t care. The guilt adds another layer of stress.
A Memory of Friendship Burnout
A few years ago, I went on a weekend trip with some friends. It was supposed to be relaxing, but by the second day, I was struggling to keep up with the group.
They wanted to explore, shop, and eat at busy restaurants, while I craved silence and a nap. By the last night, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I locked myself in the bathroom, turned off the lights, and sat on the floor, trying to calm down.
When I finally emerged, my friends asked if I was okay. I mumbled something about a headache and spent the rest of the trip feeling like I’d let them down.
Why I Need Time Alone
- To Recharge:
- Social interactions drain my energy. Solitude is how I refill my tank.
- To Process:
- After spending time with people, I need space to reflect on the conversations and emotions I’ve experienced.
- To Be Myself:
- Alone, I don’t have to mask or worry about saying the wrong thing. I can stim, zone out, or just be.
How I Maintain Friendships
- Set Expectations:
- I let my friends know that I sometimes need alone time and that it’s not personal.
- Quality Over Quantity:
- I focus on a small circle of close friends rather than trying to maintain a large social network.
- Communicate Honestly:
- If I’m feeling overwhelmed, I’ll say, “I’d love to hang out, but I need some downtime first.”
- Plan Low-Stimulation Activities:
- Instead of loud parties or crowded events, I suggest quieter hangouts like coffee dates, movie nights, or walks.
What I Wish Friends Knew
- I Care, Even When I’m Quiet:
- Just because I don’t reach out all the time doesn’t mean I don’t value the friendship.
- Alone Time Is Necessary:
- My need for solitude isn’t a rejection—it’s self-care.
- Patience Means Everything:
- Friends who understand and respect my boundaries are the ones I cherish most.
A Literary Parallel
Emily Dickinson once wrote, “The soul selects her own society, then shuts the door.” That line has always resonated with me. Friendship, for me, is about carefully chosen connections and the freedom to retreat when needed.
FAQ
Q: How do you explain your need for alone time to friends?
A: I frame it as self-care: “Spending time with you is great, but I need to recharge so I can be fully present when we hang out.”
Q: What if a friend doesn’t understand?
A: It’s hard, but I remind myself that true friends respect my boundaries. If someone can’t accept my need for space, they might not be the right friend for me.
Q: How do you reconnect after taking time away?
A: I send a quick message to let them know I’ve been thinking of them. Something like, “Hey, I’ve been recharging, but I’d love to catch up soon!”
Final Thoughts
Friendship isn’t about constant contact; it’s about mutual respect and understanding. It’s about knowing when to be there for each other—and when to step back and give space.
If you’re someone who needs alone time, know this: it doesn’t make you a bad friend. It makes you someone who values connection enough to show up as your best self, even if it means stepping away sometimes.
And if you need me, you’ll find me here—enjoying the quiet, recharging for the next time we meet.
