I didn’t know I was masking.
I thought everyone adjusted their personality around other people. When they didn’t, I assumed they were just unaware.
In the comfort of my home, or with people I trust, it probably looks like I’m not listening. But I am. I’m fully focused — just internally. Eye contact is overwhelming, and if I force it, my brain shuts down.
I’ve always known this about myself. What I didn’t know was that other people weren’t working this hard to manage it.
When I try to maintain eye contact, my focus disappears. I’m no longer listening. I’m thinking about when to look away, when to look back, what my face should be doing. It’s exhausting.
So when I’m comfortable, I don’t do it. I look occasionally, but not constantly. That changes depending on the person and the conversation.
I’ve always “borrowed” phrases from other people.
I’d hear something and think, I like that, I’m using it — stored in brain.
I assumed everyone did that.
Business interactions have always felt scripted. Phone calls, appointments, small talk — there’s a rhythm to them that feels unnatural to me. I notice it immediately, and I don’t quite fit into it. I’m always relieved when someone drops the script and just acts like themselves.
I’ve been told a lot of things about my personality.
Rude.
Robotic.
Cold.
Too analytical.
Too dramatic.
Controlling.
At some point, I stopped knowing what was actually me.
I thought I was just an intense personality — and not in a good way.
When I took my autism assessment, I didn’t even recognize my masking. I answered everything the way I had learned to.
Then one day, I caught myself rehearsing a conversation I hadn’t even had yet.
And it clicked.
This is masking.
Now I notice it constantly. I wasn’t consciously pretending.
I was adapting — over and over again — until it became automatic.