Autistic masking: anxiety, connection and acceptance

Autistic masking can involve learning ways of interacting that help us feel included or accepted, even when our internal experience is quite different. These responses can become so familiar that we barely notice how much we rely on them. But what happens when they become harder to maintain?

Consider a work Christmas party. We know the people, but the setting is different. At work, conversation often gives way to the task at hand, something familiar for our attention to settle on.

At the party, conversation continues without a natural break. We might find ourselves following the pattern of the Christmas lights, wondering when they'll flash again, before realising we've lost the thread of the conversation.

We become quieter while working harder to follow what's happening and find a way back in. Someone catches our eye or offers a nod, and for a moment we feel connected again.

Yet the effort of keeping up remains. Trying to appear relaxed adds another layer. We may seem involved while feeling increasingly disconnected.

Ways we've learned to fit in

For some of us, social situations seem to come with unwritten rules, but no clear blueprint. We may borrow ways of speaking, joking or responding from people whose interactions seem to come more easily. Everyone adjusts around others. What may differ is how much we rely on those familiar responses to feel included.

Over time, they can become almost like a role we know how to play. There's comfort in that familiarity, particularly when other people come to expect it of us. But when an unexpected turn in conversation leaves us unsure how to respond, we might hesitate, feel exposed and work even harder to recover that familiar role.

There can be a quiet tension in enjoying someone's company while feeling we must continue playing that role to remain accepted.

What happens within us?

At work, we may have developed ways of navigating our surroundings. Predictable routines, everyday tasks and familiar ways of directing our attention may help us feel more settled.

At the party, those opportunities may be harder to find. As we become less settled, we may feel greater pressure to appear comfortable and engaged, even as maintaining those learned social responses becomes more difficult.

Sometimes the ways we naturally respond to our surroundings draw attention. Perhaps someone notices we've become quiet, laughs or makes a passing comment. That reaction may stay with us, particularly if we've experienced something similar before.

What felt like an ordinary response to our needs may begin to carry a sense of being different, exposed or somehow less acceptable. Over time, we might become increasingly sensitive to how others respond, perhaps anticipating criticism or rejection before anything has happened.

At the party, that familiar sense of 'wrongness' may return even when nobody has said anything. Not necessarily a thought we can identify, but something felt in the experience of being ourselves.

Exploring the experience through counselling

Perhaps this is something we bring into counselling. We might talk about the Christmas party, the difficulty following conversations and the pressure to find our way back in.

Rather than simply trying to work out what went wrong, we might revisit how that evening felt. We might remember how uncomfortable it was to lose our place in the conversation, become quiet or gradually feel disconnected from everyone around us.

We might also explore how responding to our needs felt at the party. Perhaps becoming quiet or turning our attention elsewhere felt natural, yet brought a sense of difference. Rather than moving straight to what others might think of us, perhaps we could spend a little time with how that difference actually feels.

And perhaps there's something different about being with someone who doesn't expect us to find the right words, fill every silence or explain ourselves. For a moment, the pressure to perform might begin to ease.

Perhaps, over time, we begin to feel less uncomfortable about responding to our own needs, even when others might not understand.

Responding with intention

Imagine being back at the party. This time, perhaps we feel more able to respond to a need for quiet or a break from conversation. We might step outside for a while, find somewhere less busy or decide we've had enough for the evening.

When we've spent so much time adapting to others, responding to our own needs may initially feel vulnerable. The anxiety about how our choices will be received may still be there. But perhaps, as we begin to trust our experience, that vulnerability can feel less threatening. There may be a growing sense of strength in allowing ourselves to be as we are. Perhaps after a while we return to the party. Someone moves over to make room beside them.

We may feel a familiar pressure to say something, fill the silence or explain ourselves – to perform our way back in. But there may also be room for a small choice: to accept that our presence is felt, that it's OK just to sit, listen, say very little and still feel part of what's happening.

And if someone asks where we've been, perhaps a smile, a little laugh or a roll of the eyes – "Phew, I just needed five" – says enough.