Do we advocate for our neurotype and needs - or is it too emotionally risky?

There is no doubt, that unmasking and advocating for ND self, causes reactions in others, and vulnerability to our own RSD.

I’ve been sitting here trying really hard to regulate how uncomfortable I feel. No one has done anything wrong, but I don’t fully understand why I suddenly felt quite defensive. I’ve obviously had to do some internal reflection.

I’m currently in a social group, and we were sharing things we find difficult and things we see as our strengths. I was speaking from my own experience, identifying with what I find hard because of being autistic using my knowledge on what is known about autistic processing and communication. and someone responded with, “No one autistic person is the same.” And so this was a full stop, and extinguish of my experiences.

Now, of course, I agree with we are all out own person— absolutely. Everyone is different. “If you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person,” is something I stand by. It’s important not to judge all autistic people as being the same. I support people to explore who they are, and separate themselves from all the conditions placed on them by a society designed for the typical.

However, something about the way it was said and the intended meaning, really hit me in the gut. I felt this strong, defensive reaction and a sense of hurt rise up. I found myself saying, “Well, if that were truly the case — that we’re all completely different — then diagnostic tools wouldn’t exist.” There has to be some common ground, some shared traits, otherwise we couldn’t identify or support autistic people at all.

I think after sitting with it for ten minutes, I’ve realised I’m actually feeling angry. And again — the person I spoke with is lovely. They didn’t mean any harm (I think – or maybe again I am being naively kind, or trying not to seem ‘mean’). But I’m sitting here thinking: this is literally my job — helping people understand their neurotype, whatever that looks like for them. That includes exploring how we communicate, how things like internalised ableism affect us, and how we experience social struggles.

We talk about how we prefer to connect, not in superficial ways, but in real, meaningful ways. We talk about the core challenges we face in a world designed for neuro-normal people. So, when I try to advocate — when I say, “I'm autistic, and that means…. ,” — I mean that I communicate in a particular way, I have sensory needs, I don’t want to mask heavily just to fit in. I want to be authentically me, and I am not sorry.

To then be (in essence) told something like, “Well, everyone’s the same,” or “You’re just like everybody else,” did not feel ok.

I’m trying to reflect on my RSD — my rejection sensitive dysphoria — and I think what hurt was that I was being really open and advocating for myself: saying, “I find this hard because of the fact I have a known processing and communication difference .” But I was told, “That’s just your personal stuff — everyone’s different and you can’t say it’s because you’re autistic.”., or, “No, it’s not because your autistic, because other autistic people would not struggle with that. It’s a you problem’. Or at least, on reflection, this is what I believe it meant. Whereas no, it wasn’t internalised ableism, I wasn’t worrying about getting things wrong, it wasn’t a absorbed trauma response, it was literally how my brain processing in an environment like that.

No doubt, after years of being told, or it being insinuated, that we are being dramatic, that we are making things difficult for no reason, it is easy to be shut up and retreat internally. Especially when emotional dysregulation happens, internalised ableism is ignited and RSD comes out to play. We know something has impacted us, but until we sit with it, we are not yet sure what yet.

And yes, of course I’m my own person — but I’m also not like everyone else actually, I'm autistic and that means something. It also means shared experiences.

That’s what I fight for — for myself and for every client I work with. To help people recognise that we’re not like everyone else — and that’s okay. We should be able to advocate for our differences. We shouldn’t have to conform to others’ expectations just because it’s hard to be different.

Sometimes I feel misunderstood when I advocate for my differences and needs, and this was one of these times. People can misinterpret what I’m saying, as if I’m coming from a medical model perspective—but I’m actually doing the opposite. I’m not denying who I am, or who anyone else is, by saying I’m autistic. When I acknowledge that certain social situations, high expectations, or prolonged masking are exhausting for me, I’m not pathologising myself—I’m advocating for my well-being. I’m rejecting the idea that I have to conform to someone else’s version of “normal”, and be silent about how my differences show up.

Sometimes it might sound like I’m generalising, or speaking as though everyone’s experience is the same—and I understand that can rub people the wrong way. But I’m not claiming to speak for everyone. I’m speaking from my own experience, while also recognising that there are common threads in how many of us experience the world because we have the same communication style and needs.. Of course, the way we each respond—shaped by things like internalised ableism—will be different, but that doesn’t mean the shared experiences aren’t valid.

And that’s okay. I’m not saying those similarities are a problem. I think people sometimes get confused—especially when I advocate strongly and unapologetically for who I am, and what that means as an autistic person in the world.

There’s absolutely no doubt that I am a person first. I strongly and unapologetically believe that we should advocate—loudly and without hesitation—for who we are. That includes our neurotype, our personalities, our hopes and dreams, as well as our pain, emotions, and everything we’ve learned through our experiences.

No doubt, even when we are trying to advocate for our needs and differences, we can still be met with, everyone’s different and it’s a you problem.

Stay strong out there.... the battle continues.