Adult Autism

Autism in adulthood is one of those subjects that tiptoes around in the shadows of conversation, often misunderstood, and frequently ignored. The International Psychological Association (IPA) wants to shine a spotlight on it, not with clinical rigidity, but with a mix of candor, science, and, yes, a pinch of humor. Because if we can’t laugh a little, how will we learn anything?

So, let’s dive in. Picture this: An adult with autism walks into a world that expects them to fit into cookie-cutter molds. They are asked to “act normal,” a phrase that begs the question, "What even is normal?" Is it the person who smiles awkwardly in an elevator, pretending to enjoy small talk? Or is it the one who skips the elevator entirely because the stairs offer blessed silence? When you think about it, society’s idea of normal might just be a collective agreement to pretend we’re not all a little quirky.

Now, adults with autism are not “quirky” in the sitcom sense of the word. They’re navigating a neurotypical world with a neurological wiring that processes information, social cues, and emotions differently. Think of it like trying to run iOS on an Android device: it’s not wrong; it’s just a different operating system. And like any good operating system, it comes with its own set of unique features and, let’s be honest, a few bugs that make social interactions feel like walking through a minefield.

One of the most fascinating aspects of autism is the intense focus and passion that often accompanies it. Adults with autism can hyperfixate on subjects in ways that would make your average enthusiast look like a casual browser. We’re talking about someone who doesn’t just enjoy trains but can recite the entire timetable of the London Underground from memory—backward. That’s not just interest; that’s dedication. And in a world obsessed with specialization, isn’t that kind of focus a superpower?

But here’s where it gets tricky. The very things that make adults with autism brilliant in some areas can make life feel like a labyrinth in others. Socializing, for instance, is often a daunting task. Imagine attending a party where everyone’s speaking a language you barely understand, but you’re expected to jump in and sound fluent. That’s what small talk feels like for many autistic adults. They’re decoding facial expressions, tone of voice, and unspoken rules faster than a spy in an espionage thriller—and sometimes, they’d rather just not.

It’s important to note that autism in adulthood is often misunderstood because it doesn’t look the way people expect. Many individuals go undiagnosed for years, masking their traits to fit into societal expectations. This phenomenon is particularly prevalent among women, who often learn to camouflage their autism so well that their true selves remain hidden even to them. Think of it as an Oscar-worthy performance where the actor forgets they’re wearing a mask.

This leads to an unfortunate consequence: burnout. Imagine running a marathon every day, pretending to be someone you’re not, just to keep up with the world’s expectations. The mental toll is immense. This is why self-acceptance and societal understanding are crucial. The moment someone with autism can stop pretending and start being, life becomes infinitely easier—for them and for everyone around them.

Let’s talk employment. Adults with autism often face unique challenges in the workplace. It’s not that they can’t work; it’s that traditional workplaces are rarely designed with neurodiversity in mind. Open office plans, for instance, are sensory nightmares. The flickering fluorescent lights, the constant hum of conversations, the inexplicably loud crunch of Karen’s salad—it’s enough to drive anyone mad, let alone someone with heightened sensory sensitivities. But give them a quiet corner, clear instructions, and a job that aligns with their strengths, and they’ll shine brighter than Karen’s desk lamp.

Interestingly, many adults with autism have an incredible eye for detail and a knack for spotting patterns. These are the people you want analyzing data, solving complex problems, or creating intricate designs. They’re not the ones to make superficial chit-chat at the water cooler, but they might just revolutionize your entire workflow. The trick is to focus on what they can do, rather than what they can’t.

Relationships—romantic, platonic, or familial—are another area where adults with autism often find themselves navigating uncharted waters. They’re capable of deep, genuine connections but may struggle with the nuances of social norms. For instance, they might not realize that “How was your day?” isn’t always an invitation for a detailed itinerary. Or that saying, “You look tired,” while accurate, isn’t exactly considered polite. It’s not that they lack empathy; it’s that their empathy often operates on a different frequency. Once you tune into it, you’ll find it’s one of the most authentic connections you can experience.

Now, let’s address a common myth: autism is not a tragedy. It’s not something to be “cured” or “fixed.” It’s a different way of experiencing the world, with its own challenges and rewards. The real tragedy is the societal lack of understanding and acceptance. We’re so busy trying to make autistic adults fit into our neurotypical boxes that we miss out on the incredible insights they have to offer. Instead of asking them to adapt to our world, perhaps we should adapt our world to include theirs.

Humor, by the way, is not lost on adults with autism. In fact, many have a sharp, witty sense of humor that’s refreshingly honest. They might point out the absurdities of life with a deadpan delivery that leaves you laughing and thinking simultaneously. It’s like having a stand-up comedian who also doubles as a philosopher.

So, what can we do to support adults with autism? For starters, we can listen. And I don’t mean the kind of listening where you’re just waiting for your turn to talk. I mean genuine, empathetic listening that seeks to understand their perspective. We can also educate ourselves and others about autism, not just the textbook definition but the lived experiences of autistic adults. And most importantly, we can create spaces where they feel valued and understood. The world needs adults with autism. Their unique perspectives challenge our assumptions, their passions inspire us, and their courage reminds us that being different isn’t just okay—it’s extraordinary. So, let’s stop trying to change them and start changing how we see them. Because in a world that celebrates diversity in food, fashion, and culture, isn’t it time we celebrated diversity in minds as well?