View all news

Masking in autism

24 January 2022

Imagine feeling like you had to hide or change who you are to fit in. For many autistic people, masking or camouflaging your autistic characteristics is an every-day reality, and the impact on mental health can be profound. Here, our new Early Career Fellow, Laura Hull, explains why research is so important in improving our understanding of masking in autism, and we hear from one autistic student about what life is like when you feel you have to ‘act normal’.

Masking (also known as camouflaging or compensation) describes the hiding of autistic characteristics because of stigma or expectations from others to appear non-autistic. For example, someone might mask by forcing themselves to make eye contact even though it’s uncomfortable to them. In some situations masking can be automatic, used even if the person isn’t aware that they are autistic; in other situations masking can involve a lot of effort and practice.

Meet Samuel, an undergraduate student. He talks about his own experiences of masking and how receiving a diagnosis of autism impacted this:

Samuel’s experiences

When I was younger, I knew that I was different. It was more than simply being told as such (though I was told); it was a gut feeling that I didn’t fit. I didn’t like that, so I began trying to fit in. Some of this was mimicking the interests and mannerisms of others. I began researching into social norms, ‘how to act normal’ and various social cues as well as online quizzes comparing facial expressions to their respective emotions so that I could tell when someone was unhappy. Through various media, I took aspects from characters that I liked and have subtly altered myself to be more like someone I believed to be better than myself, an affliction I still recognise within myself to this day.

I would come home most days exhausted. At the time, I believed it to be socialising itself that was exhausting but now I realise that it was socialising as someone other than myself. It has led to difficulties, friendship issues, and not wanting my friends from different groups to meet, in fear that they will see a complete change within me. Most days in high school, I would arrive home and just lay on my bed for ten or fifteen minutes. It was tiring and I felt as though I couldn’t get up some days. Due to this camouflaging and past rejections, I still fear rejection, opting to never initiate something than get rejected most of the time. During primary school, I would go full days without saying a word, just to avoid communication (other than answering my name in the register).

Since being approached for this blog, I have undergone a lot of introspection. I have changed a lot throughout my life, which has raised the question into my true identity. I notice small changes now within myself when speaking to older friends versus newer friends. Being told that, when I tell someone that I am autistic, that it’s barely noticeable isn’t as nice as I’m sure the person intends. It is more a comment on how much I have masked my condition without realising it even was autism. I was diagnosed in 2020 and so I had undergone my self-changing well before I had any real idea as to why I was different.

I question who I am, what I would be interested in were I not influenced by my changing. I ask myself what that would look like, and if the real me would be better or worse than the me I sculpted. I dislike eye contact, however I forced myself to fake eye contact to the point where it’s the first thing I do. Despite having hypersensitive hearing, I endure loud noises (even going to a nightclub once) for the sake of friendships. I shrugged off my personal interests when asked, which is a long-standing thing, as I still do that now. To succeed in a social setting, I used to try to steer a conversation in the direction of a conversation that I have planned or rehearsed.

Depression and self-deprecation came as a commodity to me, throughout my teenage years I felt a lot of negativity towards myself, through hormones or through other reasons, I do not know. But these have lasted even now although to a lesser extent. When being diagnosed with ADHD in 2021, I was told that there is still evidence of depression and anxiety. I still fear commitment to new people, for fear of rejection and I still have a natural instinct to hide my true thoughts and feelings. I do not want people to see my true self when I am less than happy and that is a tiring persona to keep up. Opening up, even to those I trust most, is very difficult and requires a great deal of effort. 

Research into masking

So, what is research doing to understand masking better? There are a range of questions still unanswered, which some of our projects are trying to start finding answers to:

1)     What are the short-term and long-term consequences of masking?

Research – and descriptions such as Samuel’s – show that most autistic adults report physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion after masking. We don’t know how this impacts longer-term mental health in autistic people across the lifespan.

I am/we are conducting research on factors predicting the development of mental health problems in autistic children and young people, with the aim of identifying factors (such as masking) that can be targeted to improve mental health. We hope in the future to conduct research that tracks masking and its impact on wellbeing over longer periods of time.

2)     How does masking change over time?

Most research into masking has focused on adulthood, although we know that autistic people have been masking since they were much younger. We don’t know exactly when or how people start masking, or how their masking might change over time.

My/our research is exploring what masking looks like for autistic children and young people, to better understand masking across the lifespan.

3)     How does masking impact people’s sense of identity?

As Samuel described, many autistic people feel that their relationships with others might be impacted by their masking, and it could lead to issues around self-esteem and having a positive sense of identity. We don’t know what impact this might have in childhood and adolescence, when people are developing their sense of identity.

This new fellowship will explore how masking interacts with autistic children and young people’s sense of authenticity and identity. In another project supported by the Elizabeth Blackwell Institute, Felicity Sedgewick is analysing interviews where autistic people talked to her about their relationships across their lives, including how masking (and unmasking) has impacted these.

Summary and future research priorities

In summary, we know that masking is a key experience for many autistic people. We still don’t know how or when people start masking, or how masking might change over time. However, early research suggests that masking can lead to serious negative consequences, including mental health problems, exhaustion, and burnout.

The next stages this research aim to learn more about masking by autistic children and young people, and to track the impact of masking from childhood to adulthood. We hope that this understanding can be used to help autistic people reduce their masking, if they would like to, and so reduce their likelihood of developing mental health problems.

Further information

This blog was written by Samuel Varga, Dr Laura Hull (laura.hull@bristol.ac.uk) and Dr Felicity Sedgewick (felicity.sedgewick@bristol.ac.uk). For more information about Laura’s research, visit the Mental Health and Masking in Autistic Young People website. You can also read about masking in a book co-written by Felicity, Laura, and Helen Ellis: Autism and Masking.

Edit this page