November 2, 2023
Beyond masking: how society shapes Autistic life
Autistic masking is complex, unconscious, and systemic. This article explores what it means to survive, adapt, and seek authenticity as an Autistic person.
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Autistic masking is complex, unconscious, and systemic. This article explores what it means to survive, adapt, and seek authenticity as an Autistic person.
Autistic masking is becoming a more familiar term, but it is often discussed in oversimplified, black-and-white terms. In the world we live in, it can feel impossible to fully unmask, let alone imagine who we might be if we were never forced to hide in the first place.
Masking Autism means presenting in ways that align more closely with neurotypical or allistic (non-Autistic) expectations. It is a survival strategy in a world not built for us. Masking can involve a wide range of behaviours, from forcing eye contact and mirroring speech patterns to pretending to understand jokes or scripting conversations.
Masking can be conscious or unconscious. It is often exhausting, sometimes traumatic, and frequently leads to Autistic burnout or mental health crises. This is especially common among undiagnosed or late-identified Autistic people who have been masking for years without knowing it.
In professional and medical settings, masking is often described as "social camouflaging." While this framing highlights social and communicative aspects, many Autistic people experience masking as something broader and deeper.
Masking can show up in how we suppress sensory needs, dismiss side effects to doctors, or push down our trauma responses. It affects how we eat, how we speak, and how we show up in everyday life.
Autism is still often defined as a "social and communication condition," a framing that centres what is visible to others rather than what is felt internally. Traits like sensory regulation, interoception, or cognitive load are often deprioritized in diagnostic criteria.
That is not to say social and communication differences are unimportant. For many, they are central. But they are only part of the Autistic experience, and only part of what we mask.
Media portrayals often treat masking like a costume, something we can simply take off at the end of the day. But for most Autistic people, unmasking is neither instant nor easy.
Unmasking is a slow, layered, and often painful process. It can start with small changes, like wearing comfortable clothes or dropping forced eye contact, but deeper layers can take years to notice, let alone shift. Many of us are still searching for what it means to be our authentic selves, and maybe that is because we never had the chance to find out.
Society teaches us to conform before we even understand who we are. Unmasking becomes not just an act of self-discovery but one of resistance, especially for multiply marginalised Autistic people. For Black Autistic people and those from the global majority, being visibly Autistic may carry real risks to safety, employment, and wellbeing.
Masking is not always a deliberate choice. For many of us, it happens without conscious awareness, a well-practised pattern that slips in before we can name it. Sometimes I catch myself mid-conversation, realising I am adjusting my tone or words to match what is expected. Other times, the awareness only comes hours later, if at all.
It feels automatic, like muscle memory built over years of needing to fit in. Especially in unfamiliar settings or around people I do not know well, masking becomes a default. It is not always about fearing rejection in the moment. Often, it is the result of long-ingrained habits shaped by survival in a world that rarely makes space for difference.
As Dr. Devon Price, author of Unmasking Autism, Laziness Does Not Exist, and Unmasking for Life, writes:
"Masking obscures the fact that the world is massively inaccessible to us. If allistics never hear our needs voiced, and never see our struggle, they have no reason to adapt to include us. We must demand the treatment we deserve, and cease living to placate those who overlooked us."
Unmasking does not happen in a vacuum. The systems that pushed us toward our masks, capitalism, ableism, racism, and heteronormativity, do not disappear when we try to peel those layers back. And while unmasking is often framed as healing, it can also come with consequences.
Both masking and unmasking are tied to privilege. Being able to mask can protect us in dangerous environments. Being able to unmask can require financial stability, supportive communities, or legal protections. Neither path is easy.
Masking is complex, often automatic, and shaped by a world that was never built for us. Many autistic people spend years trying to unpick the layers and get closer to who we really are underneath it all. But unmasking is not easy, especially when the systems around us still expect performance over authenticity.
We need more than self-awareness. We need a society that makes space for us to show up fully, and safely, as ourselves.
Autistic masking is complex, unconscious, and systemic. This article explores what it means to survive, adapt, and seek authenticity as an Autistic person.
Autistic masking is becoming a more familiar term, but it is often discussed in oversimplified, black-and-white terms. In the world we live in, it can feel impossible to fully unmask, let alone imagine who we might be if we were never forced to hide in the first place.
Masking Autism means presenting in ways that align more closely with neurotypical or allistic (non-Autistic) expectations. It is a survival strategy in a world not built for us. Masking can involve a wide range of behaviours, from forcing eye contact and mirroring speech patterns to pretending to understand jokes or scripting conversations.
Masking can be conscious or unconscious. It is often exhausting, sometimes traumatic, and frequently leads to Autistic burnout or mental health crises. This is especially common among undiagnosed or late-identified Autistic people who have been masking for years without knowing it.
In professional and medical settings, masking is often described as "social camouflaging." While this framing highlights social and communicative aspects, many Autistic people experience masking as something broader and deeper.
Masking can show up in how we suppress sensory needs, dismiss side effects to doctors, or push down our trauma responses. It affects how we eat, how we speak, and how we show up in everyday life.
Autism is still often defined as a "social and communication condition," a framing that centres what is visible to others rather than what is felt internally. Traits like sensory regulation, interoception, or cognitive load are often deprioritized in diagnostic criteria.
That is not to say social and communication differences are unimportant. For many, they are central. But they are only part of the Autistic experience, and only part of what we mask.
Media portrayals often treat masking like a costume, something we can simply take off at the end of the day. But for most Autistic people, unmasking is neither instant nor easy.
Unmasking is a slow, layered, and often painful process. It can start with small changes, like wearing comfortable clothes or dropping forced eye contact, but deeper layers can take years to notice, let alone shift. Many of us are still searching for what it means to be our authentic selves, and maybe that is because we never had the chance to find out.
Society teaches us to conform before we even understand who we are. Unmasking becomes not just an act of self-discovery but one of resistance, especially for multiply marginalised Autistic people. For Black Autistic people and those from the global majority, being visibly Autistic may carry real risks to safety, employment, and wellbeing.
Masking is not always a deliberate choice. For many of us, it happens without conscious awareness, a well-practised pattern that slips in before we can name it. Sometimes I catch myself mid-conversation, realising I am adjusting my tone or words to match what is expected. Other times, the awareness only comes hours later, if at all.
It feels automatic, like muscle memory built over years of needing to fit in. Especially in unfamiliar settings or around people I do not know well, masking becomes a default. It is not always about fearing rejection in the moment. Often, it is the result of long-ingrained habits shaped by survival in a world that rarely makes space for difference.
As Dr. Devon Price, author of Unmasking Autism, Laziness Does Not Exist, and Unmasking for Life, writes:
"Masking obscures the fact that the world is massively inaccessible to us. If allistics never hear our needs voiced, and never see our struggle, they have no reason to adapt to include us. We must demand the treatment we deserve, and cease living to placate those who overlooked us."
Unmasking does not happen in a vacuum. The systems that pushed us toward our masks, capitalism, ableism, racism, and heteronormativity, do not disappear when we try to peel those layers back. And while unmasking is often framed as healing, it can also come with consequences.
Both masking and unmasking are tied to privilege. Being able to mask can protect us in dangerous environments. Being able to unmask can require financial stability, supportive communities, or legal protections. Neither path is easy.
Masking is complex, often automatic, and shaped by a world that was never built for us. Many autistic people spend years trying to unpick the layers and get closer to who we really are underneath it all. But unmasking is not easy, especially when the systems around us still expect performance over authenticity.
We need more than self-awareness. We need a society that makes space for us to show up fully, and safely, as ourselves.
Autistic masking is complex, unconscious, and systemic. This article explores what it means to survive, adapt, and seek authenticity as an Autistic person.
Autistic masking is becoming a more familiar term, but it is often discussed in oversimplified, black-and-white terms. In the world we live in, it can feel impossible to fully unmask, let alone imagine who we might be if we were never forced to hide in the first place.
Masking Autism means presenting in ways that align more closely with neurotypical or allistic (non-Autistic) expectations. It is a survival strategy in a world not built for us. Masking can involve a wide range of behaviours, from forcing eye contact and mirroring speech patterns to pretending to understand jokes or scripting conversations.
Masking can be conscious or unconscious. It is often exhausting, sometimes traumatic, and frequently leads to Autistic burnout or mental health crises. This is especially common among undiagnosed or late-identified Autistic people who have been masking for years without knowing it.
In professional and medical settings, masking is often described as "social camouflaging." While this framing highlights social and communicative aspects, many Autistic people experience masking as something broader and deeper.
Masking can show up in how we suppress sensory needs, dismiss side effects to doctors, or push down our trauma responses. It affects how we eat, how we speak, and how we show up in everyday life.
Autism is still often defined as a "social and communication condition," a framing that centres what is visible to others rather than what is felt internally. Traits like sensory regulation, interoception, or cognitive load are often deprioritized in diagnostic criteria.
That is not to say social and communication differences are unimportant. For many, they are central. But they are only part of the Autistic experience, and only part of what we mask.
Media portrayals often treat masking like a costume, something we can simply take off at the end of the day. But for most Autistic people, unmasking is neither instant nor easy.
Unmasking is a slow, layered, and often painful process. It can start with small changes, like wearing comfortable clothes or dropping forced eye contact, but deeper layers can take years to notice, let alone shift. Many of us are still searching for what it means to be our authentic selves, and maybe that is because we never had the chance to find out.
Society teaches us to conform before we even understand who we are. Unmasking becomes not just an act of self-discovery but one of resistance, especially for multiply marginalised Autistic people. For Black Autistic people and those from the global majority, being visibly Autistic may carry real risks to safety, employment, and wellbeing.
Masking is not always a deliberate choice. For many of us, it happens without conscious awareness, a well-practised pattern that slips in before we can name it. Sometimes I catch myself mid-conversation, realising I am adjusting my tone or words to match what is expected. Other times, the awareness only comes hours later, if at all.
It feels automatic, like muscle memory built over years of needing to fit in. Especially in unfamiliar settings or around people I do not know well, masking becomes a default. It is not always about fearing rejection in the moment. Often, it is the result of long-ingrained habits shaped by survival in a world that rarely makes space for difference.
As Dr. Devon Price, author of Unmasking Autism, Laziness Does Not Exist, and Unmasking for Life, writes:
"Masking obscures the fact that the world is massively inaccessible to us. If allistics never hear our needs voiced, and never see our struggle, they have no reason to adapt to include us. We must demand the treatment we deserve, and cease living to placate those who overlooked us."
Unmasking does not happen in a vacuum. The systems that pushed us toward our masks, capitalism, ableism, racism, and heteronormativity, do not disappear when we try to peel those layers back. And while unmasking is often framed as healing, it can also come with consequences.
Both masking and unmasking are tied to privilege. Being able to mask can protect us in dangerous environments. Being able to unmask can require financial stability, supportive communities, or legal protections. Neither path is easy.
Masking is complex, often automatic, and shaped by a world that was never built for us. Many autistic people spend years trying to unpick the layers and get closer to who we really are underneath it all. But unmasking is not easy, especially when the systems around us still expect performance over authenticity.
We need more than self-awareness. We need a society that makes space for us to show up fully, and safely, as ourselves.
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