What I Thought I Knew About Autism
Before life nudged me onto a path of deep self-discovery, my understanding of neurodivergence was shaped by outdated stereotypes. I thought autism looked a certain way: quiet, socially awkward, lacking empathy. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
It wasn’t until I began my own journey — going through assessments for ADHD, giftedness, and autism — that I realised how much more complex, beautiful, and diverse neurodivergence truly is.
ADHD and giftedness were clear, immediate “yeses,” but autism was more complicated. While none of the standard tests picked it up, the interviews with the psychologist led to a diagnosis.
At first, I felt devastated. I’d internalised so many misconceptions about autism that it was hard not to see it as something “bad” or “wrong.”
Seeking clarity, I went for a second opinion, and this time the conclusion leaned toward C-PTSD rather than autism.
As I dug deeper, I discovered how much overlap there is between neurodivergent traits and symptoms of trauma — things like avoiding eye contact, sensory sensitivity, social withdrawal, emotional detachment, brain fog, and even executive dysfunction.
Maybe I’ll never have a definitive answer. And maybe that’s okay. Because what I know now is this: whether I’m autistic, impacted by trauma, or simply wonderfully, complicatedly human, there is nothing wrong with me. There never was. If anything, it only makes me even more extraordinary than I already am.
The Stigma we Don’t Talk Enough About
Let’s be honest — autism still carries a lot of stigma.
I’ve heard people casually throw around “autistic” as an insult, or describe someone struggling socially as “probably autistic,” as if it’s something negative. Worse, I’ve heard autism confused with dangerous behaviour or mental instability.
It’s frustrating and heart-breaking — because those ideas couldn’t be further from the truth.
Sure, some autistic people might find social situations harder. Some might also deal with cognitive challenges or mental health struggles. But autism isn’t the reason for those difficulties — and neurotypical people can struggle with those things too.
Autism isn’t about what’s wrong — it’s about a different way of being. And in many cases, an extraordinary one.
What It’s Actually Like (And Why It’s Not What You Think)
Living in a society that’s not really built with autism in mind brings its own set of challenges. Here are a few that stood out to me:
Social Interactions
A lot of autistic people are incredibly loyal, honest, and deeply empathetic — often way more than people realise.
But because they experience the world a little differently, fitting into social norms can be exhausting.
Many learn to “mask,” or copy the behavior of people around them to blend in — things like forcing eye contact or laughing at the right moments.
It’s a survival skill, but it can leave you feeling drained, empty, or even disconnected from yourself after social situations.
Coping with Change
Change is tricky for many people, but for autistic folks, it can feel overwhelming because it disrupts that fragile sense of predictability.
Little routines — like setting up a desk “just so” or following a certain ritual before a task — help create a sense of safety and control.
Sometimes it gets mislabeled as OCD, but it’s really about finding comfort in a world that can feel chaotic.
Sensory Overload
Imagine noticing everything — every sound, every flicker of light, every smell — all at once.
That’s what sensory overload can feel like.
It makes it hard to focus, stay regulated, or sometimes even just be.
Common ways people cope include “stimming” — little repetitive movements like rocking, pacing, or tapping — or pulling back from overwhelming environments to recharge.
Busting Some Big Myths
Along the way, I also stumbled across some big myths about autism that I had to unlearn:
- “Everyone’s a little autistic.”
Nope. Sharing a few quirks doesn’t mean you experience the world in the fundamentally different way autistic people do. - “Autism is a mental illness.”
It’s not. It’s a difference in how the brain is wired. But being forced to mask or live in an unkind world? That can lead anyone to anxiety, depression, or burnout. - “Autistic people don’t feel empathy.”
This one drives me crazy. Many autistic people feel too much empathy — so much that it can overwhelm them. They just might express it differently than you expect. - “All autistic people are geniuses or savants.”
Some are, yes — but most are just regular, extraordinary people. Like everyone else, they have strengths and struggles. - “Autistic people prefer to be alone.”
Some do, some don’t — just like anyone else. Many want connection, love, and friendship just as much as anyone, but socialising with people that don’t meet them half way can take more effort.
The Truth About Empathy
I’d like to dig deeper into the myth that autistic people don’t have empathy, because it’s so widely misunderstood.
If anything, many autistic people feel too much empathy.
They can become overwhelmed by other people’s emotions, carrying them so deeply that it sometimes feels impossible to separate their own feelings from everyone else’s.
Empathy isn’t just one thing either. It actually has a few different flavors:
Cognitive empathy is when you logically understand what someone else is feeling — like picking it up from their facial expressions, body language, or tone.
Emotional (or affective) empathy is when you physically feel what someone else is feeling, as if their emotions jump into you.
Compassionate empathy is when you not only feel for someone but are moved to take action and help.
Motor empathy happens when you unconsciously mirror someone’s body language or expressions without even thinking about it.
In many autistic people, emotional empathy is sky-high — they feel everything around them intensely.
Cognitive empathy, on the other hand — the ability to read unspoken social cues — can sometimes be lower. But often, observation, intelligence, and even intuition help bridge that gap.
Meanwhile, most neurotypical people tend to be the other way around: they’re often stronger in cognitive empathy and lower in emotional empathy.
That means they might be pretty good at picking up “the right thing to say” or noticing social signals, but they don’t always feel the emotions of others quite as deeply.
This difference can create a disconnect.
Neurotypical people might assume that if someone isn’t showing emotions in a typical way — smiling, crying, responding “on cue” — they aren’t feeling anything.
But that’s simply not true.
Behind a face that may not express emotions the way most people expect, there’s often a rich and powerful emotional world.
You just have to know how to look — or better yet, how to listen without expectations.
Autism doesn’t mean less empathy. It often means more — more feeling, more depth, more heart.
And that’s just one of the many myths that deserve a closer, kinder look.
The Proof Is Everywhere
If you still think autism limits potential, just look around.
Keanu Reeves, Anthony Hopkins, Daryl Hannah — all diagnosed autistic.
And there are so many others who are suspected to be autistic: Emily Dickinson, Nikola Tesla, Jane Austen, Tim Burton, Steven Spielberg.
Autistic people aren’t just surviving.
They’re leading, creating, innovating, inspiring.
In the End
Whether I’m autistic or not, this journey has taught me to embrace the full spectrum of what it means to be human.
It’s taught me that neurodivergence is not something to fix or fear — it’s something to celebrate.
And it’s shown me that the people I love — some of whom are autistic — are not broken or flawed. They are extraordinary.
Just like you. Just like me.
If this shifted your perspective even a little, I invite you to keep learning, listening, and questioning old narratives. Autism — like all forms of neurodivergence — is far richer and more beautiful than outdated stereotypes suggest.
You might also enjoy last week’s episode of Intersecting Voices, where I had a heartfelt conversation with Chris Niklasson about his experience with autism and how it has shaped his life — for better and for worse.
✨I’d love to hear your thoughts or experiences in the comments. Let’s keep this conversation going and build a world where every brain is seen, valued, and celebrated. ✨
The Intersectional Hub 
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