This post will explore autistic masking – what it is, why people mask, and what the consequences can be. I will also share my personal experiences of autistic masking.
So, what is masking?
Masking involves an autistic person making changes to their behaviour to disguise autistic traits and seem more like their non-autistic peers. Another term used for this is camouflaging. Sometimes masking is a conscious choice in that moment. At other times, autistic people may not realise they are masking. For example, for me masking has become an automatic behaviour in certain situations.
While a person is masking, they may appear confident and as though they are not experiencing difficulties in social situations. Other people may not be able to tell the extent of their difficulties or may not recognise they are having difficulties at all. However, those difficulties are still present, and it does not reflect how the person is feeling. They may also not be aware of the impact masking is having on them in both the short- and long-term. A helpful definition of masking from Hull et al (2017) is that it is “the difference between how people seem in social contexts and what’s happening to them on the inside”.
How do people mask?
People may mask in the following ways:
- Supressing behaviours that may be deemed as inappropriate by others. For example, an autistic person may not let themselves stim in public or may adopt more subtle stimming behaviours.
- Following a set of social rules learned through observing social interaction in others. This could include, for example, making eye contact even if uncomfortable to do so, limiting how much you speak, and mimicking the social behaviours and speech patterns of others.
- Rehearsing behaviours, expressions and conversations to try and reduce the stress of social interaction in the moment.
It is likely that people will mask differently depending on the social context and what they feel is expected of them. They may be able to mask less around certain trusted individuals. Non-autistic people also try and manage how others perceive them. However, masking is different for autistic people due to the effort expended and the impact it has on the individual (which I will come to later on).
Do all autistic people mask?
Masking has gained more attention from researchers in recent years, largely due to the significant number of autistic females who have gone undiagnosed. It has been argued that females are more likely than males to mask their autistic behaviours to the extent that they appear more like their non-autistic peers. As diagnosis is largely based on observable behaviours, social difficulties in autistic females can be underestimated and lead to them not receiving a formal diagnosis (Allely, 2019).
But it is not just females that mask. And it is important to note that if there is limited research on masking in females, there is even less so for males or those of other genders. People of all genders have shared their experiences of masking within autistic communities either online or in person. As with all aspects of autism, it is important to try and understand each individual’s experience.
Why do people mask?
Hull et al (2017) completed a survey of autistic people in the UK of a variety of gender identities to better understand the reasons for masking. The vast majority of participants reported there being an expectation for them to change themselves so that they would be accepted by others. This is a sad reality of being autistic. The onus is on autistic people to change their behaviour to fit with others in society. I can say from experience that this can make you feel as though you’re wrong as you are. But this simply isn’t the case. There is not only one correct way of being. Society needs to be moving towards autism acceptance and celebrating and embracing the diversity within society.
Another motivation for masking was for the autistic person to protect themselves. A need to blend in can be for reasons of safety. If autistic people are singled out and made to feel different, this can have a negative emotional impact. Autistic people may also be punished for displaying autistic behaviours. For example, children may be reprimanded for stimming at school, being told they are a distraction to others. In other situations, autistic people may experience more overt bullying and emotional and physical abuse from others.
In other situations, participants said masking was an attempt to improve life outcomes. Despite difficulties in social situations, social connection is still something many autistic people desire. Participants reported masking to form friendships, romantic relationships, and find and keep employment.
What are the consequences of masking?
There can be positive outcomes from masking. Those who are able to appear more like their non-autistic peers may be more likely to form connections with others and to achieve success in areas such as employment (Hull et al, 2017). However, just writing this makes me uncomfortable, because it should not have to be the case. Autistic people have a great deal to offer society as they are, and should not feel the need to change.
There is a danger that the connections made with others are not genuine. When relationships are formed on the basis on masking, the other person doesn’t know the true you. This can lead to a sense of unease and loneliness. Friendships should involve acceptance, but where someone is masking this genuine acceptance is missing. Additionally, many autistic people have shared experiencing difficulties with their identity. If you are constantly altering yourself for others, it can be easy to lose sight of who you are. What you want, think and believe.
Overwhelmingly, autistic people reported mental, emotional and physical exhaustion as a result of masking (Hull et al 2017). Masking takes a huge amount of sustained effort and control, all while managing discomfort and trying not to let this show. The longer a person is expected to mask, the harder this can become. Participants reported needing time alone to recover from periods of masking. And if this is not possible, it is more likely a shutdown or meltdown will be experienced.
My experience of masking
For me, I liken the experience of masking to adopting different personas depending on who I am with. These personas have been carefully constructed based on observation of those I am around. People assume I am shy when I first meet them because I am very quiet. In reality, I am trying to take in as much information as possible so that I can determine how I should be behaving in this environment.
I might mimic certain behaviours even if I do not fully understand the reason for them and the meaning behind them. This was especially the case when I was younger. Now, with more life experience, I have a better social understanding. I have learned through trial and error, and often by getting things wrong.
It can sometimes take me a while to recognise my mask has slipped. For example, if someone starts talking about one of my special interests, I will be eager to join in the conversation. This can be to the extent that I monopolise the conversation and it becomes more of an excited monologue than a two-way exchange! I notice too late the glazed expression on the other person’s face and immediately become self-conscious of my behaviour.
Sometimes I withdraw. I try and become as quiet and small as possible and not attract attention from others.
I rehearse conversations in my mind, thinking of all the possible ways they might go. This is because I feel an intense need to be prepared for every scenario. Then after a conversation, I analyse it again and again. I try and work out how I came across and what I could have done or said differently. This is exhausting.
I spent the first 30 years of my life feeling broken. I couldn’t understand why I was so different to others. Then when I was diagnosed as autistic, I was relieved at the thought of not having to mask anymore. However, it wasn’t that simple. I lacked confidence, and I had masked for so long I had lost sight of my true self. I wrote a poem to try and express these difficulties. Now I am trying to construct a positive autistic identity and focus on getting to know myself again. This is not an easy process but has been made easier through support from other people (both autistic and non-autistic).
I have been left physically and emotionally drained. A year ago, I experienced burnout and I can no longer achieve as much as I used to. I believe the pressure in my life at that time was so intense that I just couldn’t mask any longer. In addition, I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia a few years before my Autism diagnosis. I experience varying levels of pain and fatigue which, in turn, can increase my sensory sensitivities. It would not surprise me if this is actually the physical and emotional impact of sustained masking throughout my life.
Final thoughts
There is a danger of masking being encouraged by non-autistic people. For example, ‘therapies’ such as Applied Behaviour Analysis focus on changing autistic behaviours. However, though an autistic person may appear as though they are coping better, there is a danger that all that has been taught is the ability to mask and the feeling that their way of being is wrong.
Masking can come at a considerable cost. The experiences of complete exhaustion are very real and can have a drastic impact on the ability to function day-to-day. Is it really worth it? Do we even need to change? More acceptance is needed on different ways of being.
I urge autistic people to surround themselves with people who will accept them as they are. These may be autistic or non-autistic people. Trying to unmask is an incredibly difficult process but it is made much easier by those who will try and understand your experiences.
References
Allely, C.S. 2019. Understanding and recognising the female phenotype of autism spectrum disorder and the “camouflage” hypothesis: a systematic PRISMA review.
Hull, L. et al. 2017. “Putting on my best normal”: Social camouflaging in adults with autism spectrum conditions. Journal of autism and developmental disorders. 47 (8) p2519-2534.
Thank you so much for writing this!