In my last post I wrote a little bit about autistic masking. Autistic masking is a dangerous compensatory strategy some autistic people adopt in order to appear more neurotypical for at least some period of time.
It’s important to note that not every autistic person is capable of masking or chooses to mask.
Wikipedia defines masking as “a process in which an individual changes or “masks” their natural personality to conform to social pressures, abuse, and/or harassment.”
I say this strategy is dangerous because it is a sword that cuts both ways. Masking requires an autistic person to sacrifice their mental and physical health and authentic self in exchange for social capital. This social capital can mean the difference between being able to access basic survival needs of employment, housing, and even community or not.
Access to this social capital cannot be discounted when you consider the statistics: Nearly 80% of autistic people are unemployed and only 1 in 9 marry.
But, masking is not benign. It comes at a terrible price. It extracts a cost in health and stamina. It stresses the autistic person’s neurology and sensory system far beyond its limits. This has a cumulative neurological affect over time leading to loss of function and eventually burnout. It also takes a terrible toll on one’s mental health and happiness.
It is a sign of our deeply ableist society that autistic people must pit their survival needs against their mental health in order to access basic societal functions. It’s an untenable choice.
And, while all of the focus is going to meeting the demands of neurotypical norms and avoiding the devastating social consequences for breaking social rules, one cannot develop a real solid sense of self. Fear, anxiety, shame, embarrassment and humiliation are such common social experiences that the impact on one’s sense of self and self esteem is incalculable.
For me, masking was not a choice but rather a series of responses to a hostile environment. It was necessary for survival. I learned early that other humans don’t really want to be around me as I am. I have gone to great lengths to hide my difference in hopes of an acceptance which has never quite come except in a very few hard won exceptions. Instead, I learned to act – not in the ways that were best and came naturally to me – but in the ways that made those around me most comfortable.
These compensatory strategies were internalized at such a young age that I was unaware of them. I was always aware I was not sharing my full self with the world, but I had other narratives to explain this and never saw the depth or the full cost of masking until I discovered my autism and began taking off the mask.
Here is a bit of what it’s like to mask from my own experience:
The mask is heaviest in social situations especially in groups and most especially new groups. I have to use my hyperfocus skills to navigate social situations. This means social situations are draining. This doesn’t mean I never take pleasure in them. I find people fascinating and enjoy their company when I can find my niche. But, (and this is a big but) if social obligation exceeds my capacity for socialization, it can quickly become a misery. (and it is always draining regardless of how much I am enjoying the interaction.)
MASKING IN SOCIAL COMMUNICATION
The first hurdle is small talk. I despise it and am not good at it. It’s not just that I find it incredibly awkward and I run out of things to say quickly. It’s also how shallow it is. What interests me is connecting with people on a real human level, but that’s not how neurotypical communication works.
Alongside the challenges with small talk is the constant internal monitoring I must do: Am I monopolizing the conversation? Is the other person becoming bored? What is my body language like? Are my arms crossed? Am I relaxed or tense? Am I making enough eye contact? Too much eye contact? Am I following what they are saying?
For most people, these processes are internalized and take no conscious effort, but for me, It takes monumental effort.
There are times when I am doing better than others and this can feel like a dance that I’ve mastered: check body language, make eye contact, look interested, check other person’s level of interest, reflect on my part and intensity in conversation and adjust levels as needed, stay engaged in what other person is saying. make appropriate facial expressions.
(Hah! Nailed it!)
Sometimes I am in blissful ignorance believing all is going well only to find later that I have unintentionally offended or been misunderstood or rubbed someone the wrong way 🙁
During times of burnout, these conversations are less like a dance and more like an anxiety ridden train wreck or (worse for me), a total clueless interaction where harm is caused to relationships without my knowing until later when the inevitable spiral of shame and disappointment ensues.
I also have a real problem with disclosure: knowing who to disclose how much information to and when it’s appropriate. I tend to overshare too soon and then get really hurt by people who use my private feelings and information against me.
IN RELATIONSHIPS
I have spent too many (of my too few) resources attempting to live up to neurotypical norms for social behavior and communication (which are very different than autistic social behavior and communication). Anxiety becomes a constant companion as I have lived with the continual fear that I will mess up – that the mask will slip because I cannot maintain the energy to hyperfocus on it all of the time.
I cannot describe the portion of my life and my thinking which has gone to dissecting conversations after the fact to see where I might have failed or beating myself up for where I did. Or, practicing for hours what I will say to someone, especially if it is something difficult.
The more people involved or the more complex the situation, the more likely I am to fail. I miss nuance and cannot keep track of and please multiple people at once. It becomes too much for me to track and process. I loose my own boundaries and needs in the chaos of it all.
THE MASKING PARADOX
The paradox of masking is that it’s a losing game. The better I am at it the more it keeps me from the acceptance I crave. To find love and belonging, people need to be seen. Autistic masking is the opposite of this. The better I am at masking, the more my own needs have to go neglected and the less I am seen. The more I strive to fit in, the less I belong. Masking will always leave me hulled out and burned out.
Masking has taken a terrible toll on my sensory system, my mental and physical health and my state of mind. It is exhausting. It takes the essential energy necessary to live a successful and contented life. The mask was put in place so young that it has hidden my authentic self from me and even prevented me from being able to fully develop an authentic self. Masking has left an indelible mark on my being.
I am taking off the mask and letting the beautiful person beneath it fully develop and flourish. I have no idea what I am truly capable of free of the burden of masking, but I’m determined to find out.
However, this has had a deep impact on my existing relationships. People are used to me showing up a certain way and being of certain utility. Unmasking means changing that social contract. In unmasking, I am not sure how many of these relationships will survive.
I am excited to know that the relationships that do will probably be the most authentic and sustainable of my life.
I am very privileged to have an amazing family. I have a supportive children who are incredibly accepting and amazing humans and a spouse who is rolling with the many changes of a late autism diagnosis. Their love and support means so much.
I have a few friends who have humbled me with their understanding and acceptance.
This is enough. More than enough.