Hi Cringers,
As a late-realized autistic and ADHD person, I’ve spent the greater part of my life trying to hide my weirdness, but the weird thing is I didn’t even realize I was doing it.
I thought everyone was suppressing the need to fidget, pushing through sensory discomfort, forcing eye contact, and overanalyzing every social interaction.
Turns out, that’s not “normal.”
In the neurodivergent community, this is referred to as “masking.” Masking means suppressing your natural tendencies and forcing uncomfortable behaviors to fit in.
It’s not like I ever pretended to be someone I wasn’t, it’s more like I felt the need to tone myself down and push through discomfort to be accepted.
Looking back, there were signs. In college, I tended to leave loud bars so frequently I was named “Isabail.”
In retrospect, it was because I couldn’t handle the overwhelming noise of the bars, not because I was a party pooper.
I’ve left social situations a lot in my life because I felt overwhelmed, but I only realized later, in my thirties, that it wasn’t because of social anxiety, but because I was overwhelmed from processing everything.
I enjoy being out, having friends, and doing things, it’s just that a little goes a long way. I get exhausted quickly.
There is the ambient sound, the conversation, the eye contact, and constant self-monitoring about whether what I’m saying is appropriate. It’s a lot to juggle.
The thing is I didn’t realize my way of operating was abnormal. You never know what other people are thinking.
I thought everyone else was processing the world in more or less the same way and that I needed to suck it up and push through, and I did for a while, as long as I could, until I burned out, until the thought of every social interaction suddenly seemed like a weight I couldn’t hold.
Then Covid happened, we all took a break from socializing, and I had time to recover.
The thing is normal is a myth. Neurodivergent or not, I imagine most of us mask to some extent, especially in the workplace.
If you don’t try to blend in, people question you. They don’t question social rules.
Neurodivergent people are often labeled “socially awkward,” when in reality neurodivergent people are fine interacting with other neurodivergent people.
There are only issues when they’re expected to fit into neurotypical social situations, to follow these nonsensical social scripts, like how you’re supposed to say “Good,” when people ask, “How are you?” at the grocery store rather than, “Hanging in there through the apocalypse.”
Turns out honesty isn’t always the best policy.
Or how we have to look everyone in the beady little eyes to let them know we’re paying attention, even though it’s creepy and intense.
I don’t want to stare into all these windows of the soul daily, but that’s what we all do because that’s the “rule” for interacting.
Most of us act to fit in. No one wants to be the odd one out. We all want friends, to be included, and get that promotion.
Masking isn’t so much about fooling people as it is about protecting ourselves. And sometimes it’s necessary to play by the rules.
The problem is when you mask so much that you hurt yourself in the process.
Masking long-term leads to burnout, depression, and loss of identity, a situation in which many high-masking neurodivergent people find themselves later in life.
Imagine playing a role for so long that you forget who you are behind the mask.
I want to build a life and career for myself as myself not for a version of myself I create to please others.
So join me in embracing your “weird.” Find spaces and people where you feel comfortable being yourself, however “quirky” that may be.
Obviously, don’t hurt anyone or break laws, but be who you naturally want to be as much as you can.
Ignore that inner voice that tells you, “Will people like me if I say this?” “Will I get funny looks if I move like this?” etc.
As Dr. Seuss says, “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”
I’m over judgy McJudgers of the world upholding some boring status quo that doesn’t serve any of us, to begin with.
Studies have found that environments that benefit neurodivergent people, benefit everyone.
Instead of thinking about ways to “brand” yourself, think about ways to unbrand yourself, unmask, and become more of who you are.
How can you channel this truer version of yourself to do something useful for the world?
Here are some questions to ask yourself to help you get back to who you are. These questions are for everyone, neurodivergent or not:
How do you operate when you’re by yourself? How does this differ from when you’re in public spaces?
How do you feel when you’re in social situations? Do you feel anxious? Are you self-monitoring? If so, how? What are you holding back?
How do you move around in public versus at home?
What do you think vs. what do you say?
I’m not a therapist, life coach, or anything like that, but I’ve found that asking myself these questions has helped me identify times and ways I mask.
A large part of “unmasking” has had to do with letting go of fitting in, of being like everyone else, and owning who you are and how you naturally operate.
It’s not easy and you may lose people and opportunities in the process, but your secret weapon, what will help you level up, is likely hiding behind the masks you’ve created for yourself out of fear. These are the self-imposed barriers keeping you from where you want to go.
So, go forth and be weird! We need more people who are brave enough to be themselves to light the path for others.
Until next time, Cringers. Love you, weirdos.
I welcome people bringing different things to the table.
Far better than everyone showing up to the pot luck with the same green bean casserole.
Cubicles make my skin literally crawl because you cannot get away from the sounds of other people, whether they’re yelling and laughing or gossiping to each other under their breath to be “considerate” of your need for quiet after you’ve asked them to shut up.