Dropping the mask takes two

Neurodiverse people frequently describe their experiences with masking — modifying their behaviour in order to camouflage their differences or fit in with neurotypical people. While this can ease social situations, keeping it up can be a very tiring endeavour, leading to burnout, poor mental health, and loss of identity. Masking can also pose a number of wider issues; for example, women are considered to be more adept at masking their autistic traits, often leaving them less likely to be diagnosed and unable to access support. 

In a new paper published in the journal Autism, a University College London team explores one facet of masking: authenticity, or how genuine people feel when they engage with others. Looking closely at interactions between autistic and non-autistic people, they find a number of themes that help illuminate the concept of authenticity as actually experienced by autistic people. 

For this study, the team recruited 133 adults from the Cambridge Autism Research Database, and presented them with an online survey, which was itself created in consultation with autistic people.

Participants were firstly asked whether or not they engaged in masking. Those who did were then asked five further questions about it, including how aware they were of their efforts to mask, how much they do it, and how it changes over time. They also answered questions about forms of engagement that made them feel more authentic, including the benefits and risks of showing their full colours when socialising, and factors that allow them to show their authentic selves more freely. Those who did not engage in masking also answered questions about their experience, including factors that allow them to unmask. 

From the analysis, four themes emerged: "embracing diverse communication styles, interests and perspectives"; "creating a more inclusive mixed-neurotype social environment together"; "minimising and managing mixed-neurotype miscommunication in mutually beneficial ways"; and "enjoyable interactions involving reduced anxiety and exhaustion as well as genuine connection and rapport". 

The first, 'embracing diverse communication styles, interests and perspectives', initially involved an acknowledgement from participants that their ways of communicating were "often different from their peers". Authenticity, then, came from a feeling of self-acceptance: one participant, a woman in her fifties, said that self-acceptance "translated into allowing myself to be myself more." Diagnosis was frequently cited as a way of gaining this self-acceptance, with participants sharing sentiments such as "since my diagnosis I feel like I am not bad or stupid or an alien, so I should just be me." 

Yet self-acceptance only went so far. For many participants, particularly when engaging with non-autistic people, it was necessary for others to have an understanding that different communication styles both exist and are valid. One man stated that it was important for non-autistic people to realise that their communication style "is not the default, and that people that may deviate from theirs are not, automatically, without doubt, being rude." Relationships in which this was acknowledged facilitated authenticity. 

The next theme, 'creating a more inclusive environment', picked up many of the same needs. Some participants noted that authenticity was easier in environments in which they could engage "on their own terms", and with "non-autistic social partners [who are] understanding and accepting autistic ways of being in, and experiencing, the world." Non-autistic people actively participating in understanding the needs of autistic friends and peers was also crucial, with some participants noting that they should simply ask what is needed and act accordingly.

Similarly, the next theme focused on the active participation of non-autistic people in managing miscommunications. "Be generous with your time and information if I ask to explain things," one participant wrote. Another noted that she wanted non-autistic people to actively "ask me for clarification if something I say or do doesn't make sense to them, instead of making an assumption that might hurt our relationship."

Finally, the survey highlighted that enjoyable interactions reduced some of the mental strain of masking, and were also a space in which "genuine connection and rapport" could flourish. These interactions were like "being set free, in a way," one man wrote. "Not having to pretend. Sometimes, one can even have fun!" Authentic-feeling interactions also made participants less anxious and stressed, required less energy, and in turn increased capacity to engage. 

Overall, autistic participants indicated that masking was incredibly common. Yet with intentional adjustments from allistic conversational partners, the strain of doing so was significantly reduced. This highlights themes that come out in wider conversations, particularly around the social model of disability: the unique communication styles of autistic people are not necessarily a problem in and of themselves, but rather the way they interact with external structures and social scripts. Non-autistic people can, therefore, play a huge role in lessening the load for autistic people in terms of masking and its associated challenges.  

Read the paper in full: https://doi.org/10.1177/13623613231183059