“But You Don’t Seem Autistic”

When you hear the word “autism,” what image comes to mind?

For many people, it’s still shaped by outdated media — maybe Rain Man, or a child who doesn’t speak, or someone with very obvious difficulties. This narrow view can make it really hard for people to recognise more subtle, adult presentations — especially in women.

So let’s clear a few things up.

Autism isn’t always obvious

Many autistic adults are highly verbal, sensitive, caring, creative, and intelligent. They may have jobs, relationships, and families. But underneath, they might be:

• Masking (pretending to be “normal” to fit in)
• Exhausted after socialising
• Struggling with transitions or sensory overload
• Stuck in black-and-white thinking or rigid routines
• Missing unspoken social rules but faking it well
• Deeply affected by perceived rejection or disconnection
• Hyperfocused or easily distracted — sometimes both
• Feeling like aliens in a world that doesn’t make sense

And because they’ve spent a lifetime learning to blend in, their autism can go unnoticed — even by themselves.

Autism is not a disorder — it’s a different operating system

Instead of thinking about autism as something “wrong,” we can see it as a different way of processing the world. That means:

• Different sensory experiences (more sensitive to light, sound, textures… or less)
  
• Different communication styles (more direct, honest, literal, or visual)
  
• Different needs in relationships (more structure, clearer expectations, more alone time)

These differences can cause stress — but often, it’s the environment, not the person, that creates the problem.

Imagine being a Mac in a world built for Windows.
You’ll run just fine — but only with the right settings.

Why this matters

If we only see autism as a severe disability, we miss out on understanding the people who are quietly struggling, adapting, and masking every day.

We also risk leaving them unsupported, misunderstood, or misdiagnosed — with anxiety, depression, burnout, or trauma being treated, while the underlying neurotype is never named.

Let’s widen the lens.
Let’s listen to the stories that don’t fit the stereotypes.
Let’s create a world where people don’t have to be falling apart to be recognised as neurodivergent.

Autism isn’t always visible.
But once you see it — really see it — everything starts to make sense.