Masking, Unmasking, and Why It Matters For Late-Diagnosed Autistic Adults
You hear the words “masking” and “unmasking” thrown around a lot in the adult autistic community. Everyone is saying you need to unmask. Taken literally, I do not have a mask on my face. Surely masking does not apply to me. I am who I am, and who I have always been.
A quick personal vignette
When I was a child, I studied people the way other kids studied textbooks. If my mom did something a certain way, I assumed everyone must do it too. She seemed like the most “normal” person I had ever known, so I copied her tone, routines, and social rules. It felt safe. Years later, I realised I had built a very effective mask and worn it so long that taking it off felt inconceivable.
What masking means
Masking is a hallmark of many low-support needs autistic experiences, particularly among autistic women. It describes strategies we learn to reduce misunderstanding and criticism in a largely neurotypical world. Over time, these strategies can become so ingrained that living any other way feels impossible.
A helpful definition comes from The Neurodivergence Skills Workbook for Autism and ADHD:
“The foundation of masking is suppressing your authentic self to fit neuronormative expectations. The aim is to appear ‘normal’ by hiding aspects of yourself that may seem odd or unusual to others.”
By “neuronormative expectations,” I mean the everyday social rules and assumptions built around non-autistic ways of thinking, feeling, and interacting.
In practice, it is the quiet pressure to communicate, socialise, work, and self-regulate in ways that fit those norms, even when they do not work for us. For this article, think of masking as an umbrella term that includes suppressing, camouflaging, and compensating.
A brief note on “low-support needs” and the DSM
People often say “low-support needs” to describe autistic adults who appear to need less day-to-day support. In DSM-5-TR terms, this roughly maps to Level 1, described as “requiring support.” It is a snapshot of current practical support needs, not a measure of worth or a fixed identity. Many Level 1 autistic adults rely on intense internal labour, especially high masking, which can be one of the most harmful factors to health and wellbeing.
Why we mask
Growing up with an unseen neurodivergent brain often means a lifetime of mixed messages: be yourself, but not like that.
The result can be misunderstanding, criticism, and sometimes trauma. To stay safe and accepted, many of us learn to reshape what others see.
Masking often starts as a survival strategy. We learn to mirror others, suppress our natural ways of being, and push through sensory overwhelm just to get by. But over time, masking can erode our sense of self. Unmasking becomes not just a choice, but a path back to authenticity.
Because we have spent a lifetime masking, we may not always recognise what it even looks like. So before you even answer the question, "am I high-masking?", let's explore the three ways masking turns up in our daily lives: suppressing behaviours, camouflaging behaviours, and compensatory behaviours.
How masking shows up
Suppressing behaviours
Holding back your opinion. We often do not voice our opinions because speaking up risks exposure, criticism, or being outcast. Many high-masking autistic adults “go with the flow” for this reason.
A lack of self-advocating. Asking for what we need can make us feel singled out and open to criticism, so we push our needs down.
Suppressing natural stims. Rocking, tapping, pacing, fidgeting, hair twirling, repetitive vocalisations, nail biting, spinning, and other soothing actions are often criticised at school or work, so we work hard to hide the very behaviours that regulate our nervous system.
Hiding special interests. We learn early that what we love may be dismissed or ridiculed, so we keep it to ourselves.
Suppressing emotional responses. Many autistic people feel deeply. We might laugh or cry when others would not, and we learn to mute those responses.
Camouflaging behaviours
Mirroring the people around us. We may pick up accents, speech patterns, phrases, and body language to blend in. Some mirroring is typical, but for us the goal is often acceptance and safety.
Being easy-going. Agreeable, affable, always fine. It reduces criticism and social alienation.
Repeating quotes or scripts. We collect lines from films, songs, books, or others and reuse them when they work.
The polite laugh. Others laugh and we join in, even if we do not understand the joke, because not laughing can expose confusion.
Keeping a checklist. We prepare questions or topics before social events to steer towards safer ground.
Compensating behaviours
Making and monitoring eye contact. Many autistic people learn to force or track eye contact to appear engaged, even when it feels uncomfortable or distracting. It can take an enormous amount of focus and energy to maintain this while still following the conversation.
Over-monitoring when to speak, how much to say, and the exact words to use. Social interaction can feel like running a script on loop, constantly adjusting and evaluating whether we're saying too much, too little, or the wrong thing. It's exhausting self-surveillance.
Adjusting tone, facial expression, or body language up or down to keep interactions smooth. We often perform "appropriate" emotion, smiling, nodding, or showing interest on cue to keep others comfortable, even when it doesn't match how we actually feel inside.
Small talk or feigning interest to avoid standing out. We may force small talk or pretend enthusiasm for topics that don't genuinely interest us because appearing disengaged can draw unwanted attention or criticism.
After reading these, is your answer to “Am I high-masking” any different?
The cost of masking
Masking takes energy. Holding all of this together while working, parenting, studying, or socialising drains cognitive and emotional reserves. Over time, the toll can look like anxiety, low mood, health issues, and autistic burnout.
What is autistic burnout?
Autistic burnout is a state of pervasive exhaustion, reduced capacity, and loss of skills or tolerance that follows prolonged stress, unmet needs, and chronic masking. It is not ordinary tiredness. Rest helps, but recovery usually requires reducing demands, meeting sensory and support needs, and making sustainable changes.
Unmask only where it feels safe for you, and only as much as feels safe.
What unmasking can look like in real life
Unmasking is not a single moment. It is a gradual practice of noticing when you are suppressing, camouflaging, or compensating, then making small, safer adjustments.
Travel example. I now wear a sunflower lanyard when I fly. It lets me decrease waiting time in security lines, pre-board, and wait in quieter areas. With noise-cancelling headphones and fidgets on the flight, I managed 20 hours of travel with far less stress. I did not lose my temper with my family. I did not get upset about waiting. I was tired, but I was not agitated.
Retreat example. At a recent yoga retreat we did a sound-bath walk in the woods with headphones. Halfway through, I noticed the sound was pushing me into agitation. I took the headphones off for most of the walk and had a peaceful experience. Staying aware of my body and needs, then adjusting, kept me regulated.
Other small, practical shifts:
Let yourself stim in spaces that feel safe, or use discreet fidgets when you need them.
Share a special interest with one trusted person, or join an interest-based community.
Replace a polite laugh with a neutral smile and “I missed that one.”
Practise brief self-advocacy lines such as “I focus better without eye contact,” or “I need five minutes of quiet before we start.”
Schedule recovery time after high-masking days rather than pushing through.
None of this requires dropping all masking. It invites awareness, choice, and care.
Bringing it back to burnout
When we are looking at autistic burnout, we need to get at the root of masking and how we do it. Where is it highest. Where can we reduce it slightly. Where can we add support before, during, and after high-masking situations. Small, consistent changes often beat dramatic, short-lived ones.
Final thought
There is no prize for pretending. Many of us low-support needs autistic adults have led very successful lives based on our masking. Awareness is not an attack on what kept us safe. It is an invitation to meet our needs with more compassion, to unmask where it is safe, and to protect our energy so we can thrive.
Reflection prompt: Where did I mask most this week? What tiny adjustment would feel safest next time?
Source
Kemp, J., & Mitchelson, M. (2024). The neurodivergence skills workbook for autism and ADHD: Cultivate self-compassion, live authentically, and be your own advocate. New Harbinger Publications.
