If there were an Olympic medal for passing as neurotypical, I’d probably win gold.
Years of practice have made me a master at blending in—at work, with friends, even at family gatherings. I know how to nod at the right moments, laugh when I’m supposed to, and say just enough to seem “normal.”
But here’s the truth: masking isn’t a skill I’m proud of. It’s a survival mechanism, and it comes with a price.
What Is Masking?
Masking is the art of hiding your autistic traits to fit into a neurotypical world. It can look like:
- Forcing eye contact, even when it feels uncomfortable.
- Suppressing stims, even when your body is screaming for release.
- Memorizing scripts for social interactions, so you don’t say the “wrong” thing.
For many of us, masking starts early. We learn that being ourselves invites judgment, so we adapt. But masking isn’t without consequences.
The Hidden Costs of Masking
- Emotional Exhaustion:
- Pretending to be someone I’m not is draining. By the end of the day, I often feel like a phone battery that’s been left on 1% for hours.
- Identity Erosion:
- The more I mask, the harder it becomes to remember who I really am. Am I naturally quiet, or is that just a habit I’ve developed to avoid conflict?
- Mental Health Struggles:
- Studies have linked masking to higher rates of anxiety, depression, and burnout in autistic people.
- Missed Diagnoses:
- Masking can make it harder for others—including professionals—to recognize our autism, delaying diagnoses and access to support.
A Memory of Masking
I was 22 when I landed my first “real” job. My manager complimented me on how “polished and professional” I seemed, not realizing that every interaction was rehearsed in my head a dozen times.
What she didn’t see was the toll it took: the constant second-guessing, the sensory overload I tried to ignore, the tears I cried in my car after work because I couldn’t keep up the act any longer.
Why We Mask
- To Avoid Judgment:
- Society often views autistic traits—like stimming or avoiding eye contact—as “weird” or “rude.” Masking helps us dodge those labels.
- To Stay Safe:
- For some of us, masking is a matter of survival. It can protect us from bullying, discrimination, and exclusion.
- To Fit In:
- The pressure to conform is immense, especially in workplaces and social settings.
Unmasking: The Path to Authenticity
Unmasking is terrifying. It means letting people see the parts of you you’ve hidden for years—the quirks, the stims, the moments of awkward silence.
But it’s also freeing. When I unmask, I:
- Feel less exhausted.
- Build deeper, more authentic relationships.
- Start to rediscover my true self.
What I Wish People Knew About Masking
- It’s Not a Choice:
- Masking isn’t something we do for fun—it’s a response to an unaccommodating world.
- It’s Not Sustainable:
- While masking can help in the short term, it often leads to burnout and mental health struggles over time.
- Support Makes a Difference:
- Creating safe, inclusive spaces makes it easier for autistic people to unmask and be themselves.
A Cultural Connection
The poet Rainer Maria Rilke once wrote, “I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone.”
That line has always resonated with me. Masking feels like hiding a secret—one so ingrained that even I forget it sometimes. Unmasking, on the other hand, is an act of courage: a way of saying, This is who I am, and I deserve to be here, just as I am.
FAQ
Q: How can I tell if someone is masking?
A: It’s not always obvious. But if someone seems overly rehearsed or hesitant in social situations, they might be masking.
Q: How can I support someone who’s masking?
A: Create a safe, judgment-free environment. Let them know it’s okay to be themselves, quirks and all.
Q: Is masking always bad?
A: Not necessarily. Masking can be helpful in certain situations, like job interviews or public speaking. But long-term masking without breaks can be harmful.
Final Thoughts
Masking may help us navigate a neurotypical world, but it’s not a sustainable way to live.
If you’re someone who masks, know this: you deserve to be seen, heard, and accepted for who you truly are. And while unmasking can be scary, it’s also a step toward freedom.
And if you need me, you’ll find me here—peeling back the layers, one breath at a time.
