I Can Do It, But I'm Exhausted Afterwards: The Hidden Cost Of Masking In Autistic Adults

"I have friends."

"I understand sarcasm."

"I have a successful career."

"I've always been like this."

These are just some reasons why an adult might dismiss the idea that they could be autistic. Other people in their life might have dismissed it for these reasons, too. From the outside, the person looks like they're coping. They're able to go to work, socialise, maintain friendships, and manage their responsibilities. They have spent decades moving through a largely neurotypical world without anybody considering autism. But often no-one has stopped to ask "what does doing this cost you?". Being able to do something, and being able to do it easily, are not the same.

"I Can Socialise Though"

One of the most common misconceptions about autism, particularly adult autism and autism in women, is that autistic people cannot socialise or that they're not interested in relationships. The reality is that these social experiences are much more varied. Someone might be socially engaging, have close friendships, or work in professions that involve significant interaction with other people. When I'm exploring autism with someone, I like to ask "how do you socialise?". This is where I get rich information about the process of socialising. People tell me they prepare or rehearse what they are going to say, or anticipate what questions they might be asked. During the conversation they might be focused on making eye contact, thinking about when to speak and for how long, and closely monitor the other person's facial expressions. Afterwards, it is common for people to say they replay the interaction worrying that they were rude, said something embarrassing, or regretted not asking more questions. From the outside, that person looks like any other having a conversation, but internally it required an extraordinary amount of processing.

When Socialising Is Learned, Not Intuitive

As humans we learn socially. Most of us will adjust our behaviour depending on where we are and with whom, we observe others, and we learn social rules over time. Doing these things doesn't automatically suggest that someone is autistic. The difference occurs in the degree to which this happens, and the effort involved. Some autistic adults tell me they have learned a strategy for socialising. If someone asks a question, they ask one back. They make sure they have maintained eye contact for the "right" amount of time. They have learned stock phrases for engaging in small talk. Over years they have observed how others behave in social situations and have incorporated this into their strategy. They work incredibly hard at being seen as socially competent, and often the effort works.

What Is Masking?

Masking, sometimes called camouflaging, is the process of consciously or unconsciously suppressing or compensating for aspects of yourselves so that you blend in to the social environment or meet societal expectations. Examples of masking include:

• forcing or carefully managing eye contact

• rehearsing conversations

• copying other people's gestures or facial expressions

• suppressing stimming or self-regulating behaviours

• monitoring tone of voice

• pretending to understand when you don't

• tolerating sensory discomfort without showing it

• preparing scripts for small talk

• suppressing interests because you're worried they will be "too much" or "weird".

Everyone will do some of these behaviours to some degree, and that doesn't mean you are autistic. Within an autism assessment masking is considered alongside a broader developmental picture. We purposefully use a masking questionnaire in our autism assessments, because for those who rely on this, having a name for something they have been doing for years can improve self-understanding and bring validation.

"Who Am I?"

When you've spent years adapting to different environments it can sometimes lead to identity confusion, and people tell me they worry they are not being "genuine". I often hear phrases such as "I don't know who I am when I'm not performing". This statement alone tells me day-to-day interactions come at a significant cost, and it is not uncommon for people with autism to have higher levels of anxiety and depression, and to struggle with self-compassion. If you receive a diagnosis of autism, this can help you to understand part of who you are. An equally important question is "what about the rest of you?".

The Cost Of Appearing "Fine"

Masking can be useful. It can help someone to navigate environments that weren't designed with their needs in mind, or it may help with employment or in educational settings. But constantly monitoring yourself, processing sensory information, observing and interpreting others, and working out what you're expected to do next requires considerable effort. What often isn't seen by others is the collapse when you get home from work, or the weekends spent recuperating from a busy week. Ask yourself, "how much of your life is spent recovering from doing the other parts of your life?". It's this need for recovery that can steer us away from what is typical, and towards the possibility of neurodivergence.

What Would It Look Like If I Stopped Pretending It Was Easy?

Imagine how much things could change if you were able to stop constantly masking, tolerating, and suppressing your needs, and started adapting your environment instead. You might technically be able to work in a noisy office, but perhaps you concentrate better and your work improves when it's quiet and you can focus. You might technically be able to attend a party, but perhaps leaving when you feel close to your limit allows you to enjoy it, rather than endure it. Adaptations don't have to be "big" to have a meaningful impact. It starts with being curious: "what allows me to do this without exhausting myself?".

Adult Autism Assessments At Equilibrium Online Therapy

I'm Dr Emma Rivett, Clinical Psychologist, and I provide comprehensive online Adult Autism Assessments. During our assessments we cover the whole developmental picture, including masking and sensory experiences, using the gold-standard assessment tools.

My aim is not to provide a label. My aim is to understand your experiences and explore whether autism is the most appropriate explanation, or if there is something else that would be a better explanation. Whether you leave with an autism diagnosis or not, helping you to understand yourself and your experiences, and what this might mean going forward, is my priority.

If something in this post has resonated with you, you can find out more about my services here.