#masking

Masking isn’t a manipulation tactic, it’s a shield, and one that I hope I can put down for good some day.

homo-sex-shoe-whale:

“You don’t look autistic” is not the compliment you think it is. This is because of something called masking. Basically, masking is when an autistic person is just… really good at acting. It’s when we hide our most obviously autistic traits to have an easier social life.

Masking is a trauma response. Autistic people don’t mask naturally. It’s stressful and exhausting. So, when you tell an autistic person, “you don’t look autistic,” you’re praising a performance that we hate giving.

“You don’t look autistic” is the biggest insult to me. I WANT to look autistic. I want to look like me.

bala5:

the-autisticats:

What is autistic masking, and how does it affect mental health?

This is a common topic of discussion in the autistic community, but I haven’t ever written a post specifically about it before. So, here it is: a thorough explanation of what masking is, examples of it, what causes it, and why it can be harmful but sometimes necessary.

Masking is when autistic people disguise (mask) our autistic traits & behaviors, by replacing them with more “socially acceptable” (read: neurotypical) mannerisms and actions. Usually, we do this to fit into neurotypical social situations, including our schools and workplaces. Masking can require careful internal thought, and often results in a state of heightened vigilance and awareness of one’s body and how it is being perceived by others.

Autistic people are taught from a young age, whether by our families or by society at large, that the way we interact with the world is wrong. We are told that we need to look people in the eyes, smile and nod when spoken to by authority figures, sit still, and have “quiet hands.” All this, despite the fact that most of us find eye contact overwhelming, have to stim to meet our sensory needs, and find it easiest to communicate in unconventional ways.

We are taught that in order to be accepted by our peers, we have to mimic their mannerisms and speech patterns. We have to learn to fit in. Many of us try this, but it’s exhausting work. Things that seem to come naturally to other people are a constant, conscious effort on our part.

The absolute exhaustion and painful overload that happens when we mask can lead to awful meltdowns, and even long-term autistic burnout. When I was in kindergarten and elementary school, I masked all day. I didn’t let myself stim. I was a model student. I smiled and made eye contact with everyone. And when I got home, almost every day, I had massive meltdowns. Screaming, sobbing, violent meltdowns. Many of them lasted for 30 to 40 minutes, but some went on for 3 hours.

It was these meltdowns that led my parents to seek an autism diagnosis for me, which I received at 8 years old, after years of suffering from the effects of masking my autistic traits at school. Because I didn’t know I was autistic, I thought I should be acting like the neurotypical people around me. I wanted to please my teachers, and I wanted to make friends. I was extremely sensitive to criticism from teachers, so I did everything in my power to avoid it.

I distinctly remember seeing fellow autistic classmates with higher support needs wearing ear defenders, and wishing I had my own pair that I could wear to school. I wished that I could stim like them. I wished that I could have sensory breaks like them. But I couldn’t, because I wasn’t diagnosed, and besides: when you’re deemed “high functioning,” you’re expected to mask no matter what the cost is to your wellbeing.

My ability to mask, coupled with my extremely high measurable intelligence, was cause for me to be diagnosed with “mild, high functioning Aspergers.” Nevermind the fact that I still couldn’t bathe myself at 9 years old, that I had to be restrained by my parents for them to brush my teeth, or the fact that I continued to have meltdowns so violent that I broke several doors.

Because I was labeled “high functioning,” I was expected to mask my autistic traits at school and at home. But once I discovered that I was autistic, I rebelled against that mandate. At 9 years old, I started stimming more, exploring more comfortable speech patterns, and reconnecting with my senses. My parents told me to “stop acting more autistic.” But I was just rediscovering parts of myself I had lost.

Now that I’m older, I know myself. There are certain circumstances where I know that masking is a good idea, because otherwise I won’t be able to obtain certain educational or job opportunities. It’s an unfortunate reality that autistic mannerisms and behaviors are still seen as undesirable and unwanted in most professional settings.

So when I’m in those settings, I unmask as much as I can, when I can. I take vestibular stimming breaks in the bathroom. I vocal stim when other people aren’t around. I play with the rings on my hands.

But it’s still difficult. It’s still exhausting. It still takes a toll on me. I have to be aware of my posture, the position of my legs, the movements of my arms and hands, the nature of my facial expressions, the social appropriateness of my words, and more.

And that is why, more than anything, I want society to become more aware and accepting of autistic behavior and body language.

I want to live in a world where I can jump and flap and squeal in public, and instead of staring at me, people laugh and smile with joy. I want to live in a world where adults wearing ear defenders are taken seriously and treated with respect. I want to live in a world where autistic people of color are not at risk of being shot and killed for stimming or having meltdowns in public.

Unmasking will look different for everyone. But I want all of you to know that each public act of autistic expression is revolutionary. I want you to know that flapping your hands in the supermarket is a battle cry. I want you to know that wearing ear defenders in public is to wear a badge of honor. I want you to know that defying the rules in a world not built for you, standing your ground and existing despite attempts to make you disappear, is the bravest thing a person can do. We are warriors, and one day we will win. Remember that.

~Eden

Masks made of stone.

pixiexbites:

minotaur costumes from the lion, the witch and the wardrobe

lets-steal-an-archive:

phoenixonwheels:

flip-this-table:

phoenixonwheels:

phoenixonwheels:

aprofessionaln00b:

phoenixonwheels:

missmamibee:

For year 3 you’re going to need one of these Mr. Crabs.

Shit fuck I don’t think they’re sold in france

No problem! French Mr. Krabs can wear an FFP2.

#i just layer 2 masks - Tags from @scrotewad

I love y'all so please upgrade your masks to an N95/KN95/FFP2 if you can in anyway manage it. KF94 would be your next choice if you can’t get any of the above.

Layering two masks isn’t going to cut it with Omicrom.

Also be aware that there are counterfeit masks floating around out there. Project N95 vets their masks, so you might wanna check that out. This is a list of NIOSH approved masks, and this is a guide on how to spot a phony knockoff mask should you want to confirm a product is genuine. IDK if this goes for other countries, so you may wanna check with your local health department for similar guides.

Stay safe out there, people. ❤️

Fun fact! You can absolutely reuse N95 masks. The point of failure isn’t the filter - it’s the elastic straps. Once those start to go or if the mask gets damaged so you’re not getting a good seal around the edge you need to replace it.

You should be able to get at least 40 hours per mask. Under normal use the filters will go much longer than that. Do cut the elastic when you finally throw them away to keep wildlife from getting tangled up in them.

Bought in bulk I’ve seen KF94s going for as low as $1 apiece. I’ve seen N95s for not a much more. I’ve also seen people on Twitter giving away N95s to those who can’t afford them. It’s worth having a look around.

[ID: Tags from @muse-on-wheels #REALLY wish there was a reusable N95 level mask #Cause we’re getting incredibly nervous esp since we have to house hunt soon#But at the same time we literally can’t afford to buy single use masks esp with the other med supplies we need per month]

boy howdy have i got news for you: i bought this exact one in 2020 since my 3M one was on its last legs (one customer at work has been wearing his since 2020, those filters last a *year*)

A Tiny Hospital in Texas Might Help Solve the Mask Shortage

other useful links:

https://twitter.com/masknerd/status/1476668499649044484?s=20

Comprehensive Mask Testing

Testing Every Mask in the World

funny-tik-toks:

I’m starting to question if I’ve ever actually felt any emotions

Masking - Beach Babe Disguise

This masking/disguise sketch commission comes from the mind of Jet. His OC is wearing a damn good disguise that makes him appear as a beach babe!

Feel free to check out the full resolution version on my Patreon!
www.patreon.com/retrosqueeze

aro-neir-o:

imladiris:

Other people have probably written about this, but the intersections between neurodivergency and being aro/ace have been on my mind a lot since I found out I’m neurodivergent. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about how the different types of discrimination I face play into each other.

I’ve been infantilised for pretty much my whole life because of my neurodivergency. The way I tend to act, and the things I tend to struggle with, mean I get treated like a weird excitable kid who doesn’t understand how the world works. The fact that I’m also aromantic and asexual is viewed just another facet of this “immaturity”. So the idea goes: of course Iwouldn’t be interested in romance and sex. How could I even understand such adult topics? I’m just a kid who gets distracted by butterflies and likes to infodump about history. Isn’t my innocence so endearing?

Instead of my orientation being taken seriously, it’s belittled and taken as a confirmation that I’m just childish and strange. This has led, on several occasions, to people assuming it’s just a symptom of my neurodivergency that needs to be medically addressed.** Aromantic and asexual people already face excessive questioning about our orientations and get told the cause must be [insert diagnosis or symptom of diagnosis here]; being neurodivergent makes this exponentially worse, because the underlying assumption is that I can’t have the agency or the self-knowledge to identify this way. After all, I’m just a weird kid, aren’t I? I need other (read: neurotypical and allo) people to explain everything, even my own experiences, to me.

This infantilisation made it particularly hard for me to come to terms with my orientation, because I didn’t want to prove everyone that they were right. For years, I pushed back against the way I’d been treated by seeking out the one thing that would make me an adult in others’ eyes - a romantic and sexual relationship. It hurt to realise I didn’t actually want that deep down. It felt like being told I really was that weird kid, tolerated but ultimately babied. It’s taken a lot of work to accept that the way I am doesn’t make me any less mature and deserving of respect.

There isn’t really a conclusion to this - mostly I wanted to post about my experiences as someone who is both neurodivergent and aroace, and the issues I’ve faced because of it. If any other aro/ace neurodivergent people would like to add to this or share their own perspective, I’d love to hear it.

**A lot of neurodivergent people do consider their experiences of attraction to be linked to their neurodivergency, and that’s obviously cool and valid. That’s not what I’m talking about here. My point is the systematic pathologisation of aromanticism and asexuality and the denial of my ability to define myself.

This is (perhaps unfortunately) a very relateable experience. It’s not something I really accepted personally until recently, but in hindsight, many of my interpersonal conflicts stem from others misreading my neurodivergence. My arospec and acespec experiences are furthermore dismissed because they are assumed to be part of my neurodivergence.

It’s definitely hurtful, especially because (for me) some of my beliefs about relationships maybe influenced by my neurodivergence. Parts of how I experience my identity are probably tied into my neurodivergence. And other parts of it seem entirely separate. I think those are both valid experiences, but both of them are belittled for different reasons.

Thank you for sharing this; I’m glad I came across it and had the spoons to add on. (Hopefully that’s all right - I can always make my own post.)

This is very interesting for me to read, and I’ve had a very different experience with the way people treat my orientation and neurodivergence.  I think there are three big reasons why I’m treated so differently.  First, I’m AMAB, large, and hairy.  Second, while I’m aro, I’m not ace, and I’m partnering and romance-favorable and have had a lot of partners.  Third, my neurodivergences manifest a bit differently from either of yours.

I’ve never been called immature or infantilized for my orientation or my neurodivergence.  I’ve been called a lot of demeaning (or intentionally demeaning) or dismissing things, but never that.  I think it’s worth examining why, because femme AFAB people especially receive a lot of that kind of thing that masculine people don’t.  I think stories like this, from marginalized people, reveal depths to the insidiousness and harmfulness of misogyny that may not come up with straight white able neurotypical gender-conforming women.

What I have been called, both because of my orientation and my neurodivergence, is unmasculine, unaggressive, stoic, uninvolved, unemotional, uncaring, unsupportive, detached, and aloof.  While those first two are absolutely true and accurate adjectives to apply to me, they were intended to be bad and insulting, but to me they are big compliments.  The rest, though, aren’t even remotely true, and anyone who spends any time getting to know me at all knows I’m the opposite of all of those things.  But because of my neurodivergence, I don’t express being highly emotional, deeply caring, and intensely involved the ways that neurotypical people do, and this comes up in intimate relationships quite a lot.

Interestingly, I also get complimented a lot because of these same traits.  I’m often called wise, “an old soul”, observant, patient, and eloquent because I see things from an outside perspective and take time to think before expressing my thoughts.  People ask me for advice about romantic problems frequently and tell me my advice is particularly insightful, even though most of the time it can be boiled down to one of three things: “Have you asked directly for what you want?”, “Have you expressed your feelings directly and clearly?”, and “Have you explicitly discussed that together or are you making an assumption?”  Neurotypical alloromantic people get really wrapped up in the social scripts of romance and expression and forget to be direct and clear, and that can give people like us some big advantages in communicating and building relationships, at least if we can convince the neurotypical alloromantic people in our lives to challenge their own assumptions and take what we say about ourselves and our own experiences as true and literal.  We can ask them to do that, and if they don’t, that’s their failing, not ours.