The version of me other people saw, and the parts they didn’t
One of the words I heard repeatedly after discovering I was autistic was masking. At first, I wasn’t completely sure what it meant.
I’d heard people talk about autistic masking, but I didn’t immediately think: That’s me.
That’s me.”
I thought masking meant pretending to be someone you’re not. And I didn’t think I’d done that. But the more I learned, the more I started recognising it.
So, what is masking?
Masking is a term often used to describe consciously or unconsciously hiding, suppressing or compensating for autistic traits in order to fit into social expectations.
It can involve things like:
- watching how other people behave and copying them
- rehearsing conversations
- monitoring your facial expressions or body language
- forcing eye contact
- hiding stimming
- suppressing sensory discomfort
- pretending you’re comfortable when you’re not
- changing how you communicate depending on who you’re with
- learning social rules rather than intuitively understanding them
And it isn’t necessarily something you decide to do one morning. For many people, masking develops gradually.
You learn what gets you positive responses. You learn what makes you stand out. You learn what you’re “supposed” to do. And eventually, some of those behaviours can become automatic.
I didn’t think I was masking
This is the part that really surprised me. I thought I was just being myself. But when I started looking back, I could see how often I’d been monitoring myself.
Was I talking too much? Was I talking too little? Was I making enough eye contact? Was my face doing the right thing? Was I reacting appropriately? Was I being too enthusiastic? Was I being annoying? Was I saying the wrong thing?
I didn’t necessarily experience those thoughts consciously every single time. But I recognise the pattern now.
The problem with being good at coping
Masking can make things complicated because it can make someone appear like they’re doing completely fine. And if everyone around you sees someone who is coping, they may never realise how much effort is involved.
You can be social while finding social interaction exhausting. You can make eye contact while finding it uncomfortable. You can follow a conversation while mentally monitoring everything you’re doing. You can appear calm while feeling completely overwhelmed. You can finish a workday and then have absolutely nothing left.
From the outside, it can look like: She’s fine. From the inside, it can feel very different.
Masking has a cost
One of the biggest things I’ve learned is that masking isn’t simply about whether you can do something. It’s about the energy it takes to do it.
I might be able to cope with a noisy environment. That doesn’t mean it isn’t exhausting.
I might be able to socialise. That doesn’t mean I won’t need significant recovery time afterwards.
I might be able to adapt to a change. That doesn’t mean the change didn’t cause stress.
This distinction has been really important for me.
Why late diagnosis and masking can be connected
Masking is one reason some autistic people aren’t identified until adulthood.
If a person has developed strong coping strategies, especially from a young age, the difficulties may not be obvious to the people around them.
This can be particularly complicated for people who are perceived as capable, successful or independent.
Sometimes the better you become at hiding your struggles, the less likely anyone is to realise you need support.
And eventually, the strategies that helped you cope may become impossible to maintain.
I’m still figuring out what masking means for me
I don’t think diagnosis means you suddenly stop masking. I’m still learning to recognise when I’m doing it. Sometimes I don’t even realise I’m masking until afterwards.
I’ll leave a situation completely exhausted and think: Why am I so tired?
Why am I so tired?And then I realise how much energy I spent monitoring myself.
Learning about masking has therefore been less about deciding: I need to stop masking.
and more about asking: Where do I actually feel safe enough to be myself?
That’s a much more useful question for me.
What happens when you stop judging yourself?
One of the biggest changes diagnosis has given me is the ability to question some of the rules I had created for myself.
Do I actually need to make eye contact? Do I need to force myself to stay in a situation when I’m overwhelmed? Do I need to hide that something is difficult? Do I need to appear comfortable when I’m not? Do I need to be constantly available to other people? Sometimes the answer is yes.
There are situations where we all have to adapt. But I think there’s a difference between adapting when necessary and believing that you must constantly hide parts of yourself to be acceptable.
And that’s something I want to keep exploring
Masking isn’t simply an autism topic. It connects to identity, relationships, work, burnout, self-understanding and what happens when you’ve spent years trying to meet expectations that weren’t designed with your brain in mind.
I’m still learning what unmasking looks like for me. And I suspect that’s going to be a lifelong process.
🎧 Listen to Episode 4
This post accompanies Episode 4 of the That AuDHD Teacher podcast, where I talk more about masking, how I came to recognise it in myself, and what I’m learning about the difference between coping and genuinely feeling comfortable.
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