Living as a neurodivergent adult in a neurotypical world

Most of us assume that other people experience the world in much the same way we do. We assume that popping to the supermarket is just another job to tick off the list. That making a phone call is a small inconvenience. That chatting with colleagues over a cup of tea comes naturally. That looking someone in the eye shows you're listening. That asking, "How are you?" is simply being polite.

For many neurodivergent adults, these everyday moments can require an extraordinary amount of mental energy. Often, that effort goes completely unseen.

As a counsellor, I have the privilege of hearing people's stories every day. Increasingly, I meet adults who tell me they have spent years wondering why life has always seemed harder than it appears to be for everyone else.

Some arrive having recently received an autism diagnosis. Others are exploring whether neurodivergence might explain experiences they have struggled to understand throughout their lives.

Almost all describe the same feeling. Relief. Not because a diagnosis changes who they are but because, perhaps for the first time, their experiences begin to make sense.

There is no one way to be autistic

One of the biggest misconceptions about autism is that everyone experiences it in the same way. They do not. You may have heard the saying, "If you've met one autistic person, you've met one autistic person." I think this captures the diversity of autistic experiences beautifully.

Some autistic people enjoy busy social lives. Others find social interaction exhausting. Some thrive in structured careers. Others struggle with environments that are noisy, unpredictable or full of interruptions.

Some people need relatively little day-to-day support, while others require much more. During an assessment, clinicians consider the level of support someone may need. This is described as Levels 1, 2 and 3. These levels are there to guide support rather than define a person. Support needs can also change throughout life depending on stress, burnout, illness or changes in circumstances.

There is no single autistic profile.

The world can feel full of unwritten rules 

One of the things I hear time and again in my counselling room is how confusing everyday social interactions can feel. One client once smiled and said, "It's like everyone else has been given the script and I'm making it up as I go along." That stayed with me.

Think about how many conversations begin with, "How are you?" Most of us expect the reply, "I'm fine, thanks. How are you?" The conversation moves on. Yet several clients have told me they genuinely wonder whether people actually want to know how they are or whether it is simply something we are expected to say.

Another client told me they answered honestly when someone asked about their weekend, only to realise halfway through that the other person had already stopped listening. These moments can leave people feeling confused and questioning whether they have somehow got it wrong.

Many autistic people communicate in a direct and honest way. They might expect words to mean exactly what they say. Expressions such as "I'll be there in a minute", "We'll catch up sometime" or "Pull your socks up" may seem obvious to many people, but can be confusing when the intended meaning is different from the words themselves.

Learning these unwritten social rules takes effort. For many people, it is exhausting.

The hidden cost of masking

Many neurodivergent people learn to hide the parts of themselves that feel different. This is known as masking.

It may involve practising conversations before making a phone call, forcing eye contact even when it feels uncomfortable, copying how other people behave in social situations or suppressing natural behaviours to avoid standing out.

For some people, masking becomes so automatic they no longer realise they are doing it. From the outside, they appear confident, sociable and coping well. Inside, they may be constantly analysing conversations, worrying whether they said too much, interrupted someone or misunderstood what was meant.

One of the saddest things I hear is how many people have spent years believing there was something wrong with them. They describe feeling as though everyone else received a handbook for life that they somehow missed.

Research has shown that prolonged masking is associated with increased anxiety, depression and autistic burnout (Hull et al., 2017). The difficulty is that successful masking often means successful hiding. Other people see how well someone is coping. They rarely see the recovery that follows.

When communication looks different

Communication is about much more than words.

Some autistic people naturally speak in a voice that others describe as flatter or less expressive. That does not mean they feel less emotion. Often, they experience emotions very deeply and simply express them differently.

Some people worry they overshare because they answer questions honestly and in detail. Others say very little, because they have spent years worrying about getting conversations wrong.

Eye contact is another area that is frequently misunderstood. Many of us have been taught that maintaining eye contact shows confidence and attention. For some autistic people, eye contact can feel uncomfortable or overwhelming. Looking away may actually help them concentrate on what is being said.

These differences are not signs that someone is rude, uninterested or lacking empathy. They are simply different ways of communicating.

Routine can bring a sense of safety

Many autistic adults tell me that routine helps the world feel more manageable. 

Knowing what to expect reduces uncertainty and allows the nervous system to settle. Unexpected change can be surprisingly stressful. A meeting is moved at the last minute. A familiar route is closed. Plans suddenly change. Someone says, "We'll sort it out later."

To another person these may seem like small inconveniences. To someone who relies on predictability, they can require a great deal of mental adjustment. This is not about being difficult or inflexible. It is about the brain working incredibly hard to adapt.

Many people also tell me they prefer clear communication. Rather than saying, "I'll see you later," it can help to say, "I'll see you at three o'clock." Instead of, "Do it when you get a chance," saying, "Could you send it before Friday afternoon?" removes uncertainty. Clear expectations often reduce anxiety.

When someone becomes dysregulated

Another word you may hear more often is dysregulation.

Dysregulation happens when the nervous system becomes overwhelmed and struggles to return to a calmer state. For one person this may mean becoming unusually quiet. Someone else may stop speaking altogether. Another may need to rock gently, pace, fiddle with an object or repeat movements that help them feel calmer. These behaviours are often ways of regulating an overwhelmed nervous system, rather than behaviours that need to be stopped.

One of the most helpful questions we can ask is not, "What's wrong with you?" Instead we might ask, "What has happened that has left you feeling overwhelmed?" That small shift encourages understanding rather than judgement.

Finding answers later in life

Not everyone discovers they are autistic during childhood. Many people receive a diagnosis much later in life.

Others begin recognising autistic traits in themselves after reading about neurodivergence, listening to other people's experiences or seeing similarities within their own family.

For many, this understanding is deeply validating. It cannot change childhood experiences or years spent wondering why life seemed harder than it did for other people. What it can do is replace self-criticism with self-compassion.

Time and again I have watched people stop asking, "What's wrong with me?" Instead they begin asking a very different question: "What if I've simply been trying to navigate a world that wasn't designed for the way my brain works?" For many people, that question is the beginning of self-acceptance.

How counselling can help

Counselling is not about helping someone become more neurotypical. It is about creating a space where they no longer feel they have to hide who they are. Many people find it helpful to explore the impact of masking, understand their sensory needs, build healthier boundaries and develop greater self-compassion.

Carl Rogers believed that people flourish when they experience empathy, acceptance and authenticity (Rogers, 1961). Those principles feel particularly important when working with neurodivergent adults who may have spent years feeling misunderstood or trying to fit into a world that often felt confusing.

One of the greatest privileges of my work is watching people begin to understand themselves with greater kindness. A diagnosis does not change who someone is. It does not rewrite the past. What it can do is change the way the past is understood. Perhaps that is where real change begins. Not by becoming someone different but by finally understanding the person you have always been.

References

Hull, L., Petrides, K. V., Allison, C., Smith, P., Baron Cohen, S., Lai, M. C. and Mandy, W. (2017). Putting on My Best Normal: Social Camouflaging in Adults with Autism Spectrum Conditions. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 47(8), 2519 to 2534.

National Institute for Health and Care Excellence. (2021). Autism spectrum disorder in adults: diagnosis and management (CG142).

Rogers, C. R. (1961). On Becoming a Person. Houghton Mifflin.