"No one believes me"
“No one believes me”; a heartbreaking theme uncovered within research by Miller et al (2021)* on masking experiences.
Within this research, masking is defined as “a term used by the autistic community to describe the suppression of aspects of self and identity to “fly under the radar” or “appear normal,” using conscious (i.e., mimicking facial expressions) or unconscious (i.e., unintentionally suppressing aspects of one's identity) means.”
The lived reality of masking is much more complex. The best way I can think to describe my experience of masking is to show how it manifests in daily life as an AuDHD-er.
It’s preparing for any social interaction long before it begins (even morning small talk).
It’s the constant fear of how you’re perceived (but not being entirely sure how you’re supposed to be).
It’s walking away from conversations and reliving each moment. Did I say the right thing? Did I reciprocate with the right questions? Did I ask too many? Was I coherent? Did I say something weird? *shakes magic 8 ball*
It’s subconsciously matching the other person’s energy, high or low; depleting my own either way.
It’s hiding sensory issues in fear of seeming “difficult”. Noisy environments, large crowds, warm rooms (creating a furnace inside my body), loud and/or repetitive noises (hand-dryers in bathrooms; a prime offender), suddenly feeling every fibre of my clothes on my skin or every hair on my head. And the resulting **overstimulation**. Wanting to find the reset button (if only it were that easy) or have an ice-cold shower (not the most practical solution unfortunately).
It’s turning my constant forgetfulness into a quirky personality trait because how embarrassing forgetting something you heard minutes ago. Or the name of the colleague you’ve worked with for years. Or what you were talking about when you were the one who started the conversation.
It’s sitting on my hands during meetings to stop fidgeting or wedging my feet around chair legs to stop.my.flippin.leg.shaking.
It’s forcing eye contact during social interactions. Not too much (don’t be intense) and not too little (don’t seem disinterested). All the while desperately trying not to lose track of the conversation. (Oh no, it happened again).
It’s doing all of the above in one day and coming home with not much left to give.
It’s being a social chameleon; a different person for different people. Good for others, but not always for me. It’s getting to my thirties and suddenly realising I’m not sure who I really am.
I’m at the stage where I can find a lot of positives in being neurodivergent, but with masking it gets harder and harder to justify. It’s “helped” me in many ways but has hindered me in many ways too. The worst way in which it harms the neurodivergent community is how it’s used by others to question or invalidate our diagnoses. When we don’t mask, we face rejection in many forms; social, relationships, employment and much more. When we do mask, we’re somehow not neurodivergent enough (!?!?).
Make it make sense.
After a bad period of burnout last year, I made a pact with myself to stop masking, or at least start to recognise how masking manifests for me, and make a concerted effort to reduce the amount of it I do. On the other hand, this process has jarred with me in a lot of ways, because ‘unmasking’ implies that all responsibility and action is on the part of the neurodivergent community.
It doesn’t reflect that the many facets of masking are actually the direct result of trying to cope in, and be accepted by, society.
We can spend our whole lives learning to accept ourselves, but we need the same effort from society to accept us as we are, along with patience, kindness and mutual respect. We can’t unmask in a world that doesn’t understand us.
“No one believes me”. I have hope that things will change.
*Reference: Miller D, Rees J, Pearson A. "Masking Is Life": Experiences of Masking in Autistic and Nonautistic Adults. Autism Adulthood. 2021 Dec 1;3(4):330-338. doi: 10.1089/aut.2020.0083. Epub 2021 Dec 7. PMID: 36601640; PMCID: PMC8992921.