Navigating Friendships as an Autistic ADHDer: The Complexity We Should Be Talking About

By Jade Taylor - AuDHDer

(some generalisations based on personal experience, known research, and importantly, the heard collective narratives)

Let’s talk about friendships — a topic that feels both deeply personal and incredibly complex, especially for those of us who are autistic and/or have ADHD. I’m not sure I can capture the full depth of it in one post, but I’ll try to shine a light on some of the common experiences we face that often go unnoticed or misunderstood.

The Early Years: Internalising “Wrongness”

Many of us grow up having friendships that, in hindsight, were toxic — but we didn’t realise it at the time. From an early age, especially when our neurodivergence isn’t recognised or supported, we can internalise a message: I’m weird. I’m different. We’re told — explicitly or implicitly — that being sociable, loud, and outgoing is what’s “normal” and acceptable.

For autistic kids, this can be incredibly damaging. Being quiet, playing alone, or enjoying patterned LEGO builds in the corner isn’t seen as acceptable. So we begin to believe our authentic selves aren’t okay, and we start to mask — to perform, rather than just be.

The Shift in Primary and Secondary School

In primary school, some of us are lucky enough to form safe, authentic friendships. But that isn’t everyone’s story. Research and experience show that many autistic and ADHD girls, in particular, may gravitate towards friendships with boys — often because boys can be more direct, expressive, or focused on shared interests like sport. But as we transition into secondary school, everything changes.

Suddenly, hormones, social politics, and rigid gender roles kick in. Boys and girls are “not supposed” to be friends anymore. Popularity becomes currency. Being funny, loud, and sporty is considered desirable — and for many autistic people, that’s kryptonite.

The Fallout: Rejection and Misunderstanding

For ADHD girls, who might be naturally loud, spontaneous, or intense, this shift can be brutal. Rejection sensitivity starts to take root. We hear things like “you’re too much,” “you’re lazy,” “you’re bossy,” or “you’re disruptive.” Autistic girls may be quietly confused, withdrawing further into themselves as social rules grow more and more incomprehensible.

For the autistic kids, the internalisation of being “quiet, shy, weird”, causes a real vulnerability and judgement of not being socially accepted.

In both cases, the result is often the same: we don’t fit in. And that internalised feeling of not being “enough” — or being “too much” — starts to deepen.

Trusting the Wrong People

Because many of us Autistic people are naturally trusting — we assume people say what they mean and mean what they say — we can end up in friendships where we’re being mistreated and don’t even realise it. We may tolerate bullying or manipulation simply because we think that’s how friendships work.

I remember a moment from Year 7 that stuck with me. A group of girls kept pushing others into me while we were queuing for class. I didn’t realise they were doing it on purpose. When it finally hit me, I felt this deep, gut-wrenching shame. It hadn’t even occurred to me that someone would intentionally try to humiliate me. That kind of social manipulation just didn’t register — and I know I’m not alone in that experience.

Trapped in Toxic Bonds

We may stay in toxic friendships for years — sometimes because we don’t recognise the toxicity, and other times because we feel trapped. Many of us value depth and connection, not quantity. We might have a “favourite person” or a small, tight-knit circle. If someone from that circle mistreats us, we might still hold on, afraid that letting go means being alone forever.

Or of course guilt (a huge emotions we have to battle – but that’s another post). Where we have been constantly told it is our fault and we are to blame, so in the end we internalise this and it can easily manifest into RSD, and a real core belief that we are the “bad one”. Leading to a disbelief of our own feelings and reactions.

This fear of abandonment can be paralysing. Even when we recognise the hurt, we think: If I leave, who else will I have?

The Anger We’re Not Allowed to Feel

And then there’s anger. This is a big one — especially for those of us raised within the gender stereotypes attached to being female. We’re taught to be polite, nurturing, and calm. Anger is discouraged, even punished. But neurodivergent people feel deeply — joy, sadness, anxiety, and yes, anger.

When we finally react — after being ignored, manipulated, or gaslit — we’re often told our response is “too much” or “over the top.” And so, the shame cycle begins again. We doubt ourselves. We silence ourselves. We stop advocating for our needs.

The Hope: Real, Authentic Connection

Friendships are messy and complicated for everyone, but especially for neurodivergent folks. If we’re lucky, we find those rare people who see us — who embrace who we are. When that happens, it’s magical. But until then, we are vulnerable: to loneliness, to ridicule, and to being taken advantage of.

What’s important is that we start recognising these patterns. We start believing that we deserve respect, safety, and genuine connection. And we start unlearning the idea that we have to be anyone other than who we truly are in order to belong.

If any of this resonates with you, you’re not alone. Let’s keep talking about these experiences — because the more we share, the less isolated we feel.

(Picture created by AI)