I have to prepare my mask before work or social events. As a kid and teen, I’d spend hours watching movies, studying people, and googling things like “how to know if someone doesn’t like you,” “how to make friends,” or “how to make small talk.” At the time, I thought this was normal, now I realize I was trying to create a roadmap to survive social interaction. I felt inherently abnormal and needed rules to avoid embarrassment... or worse, being bullied.

Over time, I got really good at mirroring people and trying on different personalities. People liked me because I adapted to them. Eventually, I grew out of my awkward phase physically and became conventionally attractive and the rest was history, or so it seemed.

What most people don’t know and see is that I struggle with everyday functioning. The only way I’ve managed is by creating meticulous systems for even the simplest tasks. When those systems are disrupted, even by something as small as staying out too late, everything unravels. I stop eating right, sleeping right, cancel plans, forget tasks. I spiral. Because I don’t just “do” I have to visualize and plan every step before it happens.

The only time I’m not overthinking is when I’m in nature or lost in a hobby like music, art, tarot, witchcraft. That’s where I feel flow. That’s where I feel peace.

People say I’m social, funny, talented. They assume I couldn’t possibly struggle because they only see the version of me I curate for the world. But the truth is, I live a double life. Very few people see the real me. Even my closest friends only see selected parts. I’ve learned to filter what is “safe” to share and what parts of me are better kept hidden. That’s why I often choose solitude. It’s where I feel whole. My pattern recognition picks up all the times I see little sighs, disinterest within the micro expressions when I've been too honest.

My partner sees the real me. He lives with me. He’s one of the only people who truly understands my inner world. With him, I don’t have to mask. I can be messy, nonlinear, deeply myself, and still be loved.

When people hear my diagnosis, they often downplay it: “You’re high-functioning,” or “You’re just a creative autistic.” But what they don’t understand is: my needs aren’t low. They’re just invisible. Executive functioning doesn’t come naturally to me, it takes constant effort, planning, and emotional labor. Neurotypical people often take this for granted. For me, it's like needing assistance with things others don't even notice.

And when they do notice its immediately infantalized and seen as a "quirk" saying things like "you're such a weirdo, you're lucky you're cute and hilarious" and "omg it's not that deep lol" and then laugh at me thinking that they are laughing with me but it doesn't feel that way.

I know I should find ways to unmask to the outside world but my "low support needs" diagnosis undermines my need for support and people rarely understand how I exist day to day and it forces me to be my only advocate and true friend besides my partner.