Misconceptions about autistic adults that need to go

We “grow out of” autism.

Many people assume that if we’re employed, mask well or live alone, we’re “not really autistic anymore”.

In reality, we have adapted or are hiding exhaustion and intolerance behind coping strategies at the expense of our physical and mental health.

Autism is not a childhood condition or diagnosis; it is lifelong. This is how our brain develops, functions, works.

There is no way out of autism — only through.

We’re socially clueless or childlike forever.

Being autistic means we process and express social dynamics differently.

Childishness is a social construct I find ironic. Experiencing childlike behavior is Biblical, yet the people who most often pathologized my innate autistic behavior were Christians.

The way I experience joy and the interests I have are often called “childish”.

I’m mistaken for Gen Z as a young Millennial because I look and “act” young. No — I look and act like an autistic adult. This is autism in adulthood.

We don’t have relationships, sex or families.

There is a stereotype that autistic adults are asexual, uninterested or incapable of intimacy.

Plenty of autistic people date, marry, have kids, have nuanced sex lives — we may approach relationships outside of neurotypical relationship norms.

Sensory-seeking autistics may engage in sexual activities more than sensory-avoiding autistics.

Autistic people may also identify as belonging to sexual orientations beyond the basic heterosexual.

I personally identify as a homoromantic asexual autistic adult — or simply a lesbian ace.

Asexuality is a spectrum; whereupon I fall is no one’s business but my own.

I don’t know why asexuality seems to threaten people, but I’ve experienced orgasms and can honestly say they’re not life-changing.

The same joy happens for me when I’m dancing, eating cheese, reaping the rewards of blogging, spending time with my cat, or doing something else I love.

The difference: These moments tend to have longer-lasting benefits.

I love myself more when I’m single because I feel too much pressure to conform to society’s expectations of how I “should” be when I’m romantically involved.

Plus…being single is much better for my monotropic mind.

We all want to “get better” or be cured.

Many autistic adults don’t want a cure.

We want — and need — understanding, accessibility, and respect for how our brains work.

If we have jobs or degrees, we must be “high-functioning”.

Functioning labels oversimplify and ignore how hard maintaining jobs or higher education can be.

Someone might thrive at work but melt down the second they get home.

I turn into a fire-breathing dragon once home, then pass out from overstimulation and exhaustion.

I don’t think people at work would believe who I am outside of it…but I have realized how little workplaces search for people’s names before hiring them.

People at work only ever see a sliver of me.

They’d never guess what I’ve survived, or how my brain’s wiring can put me in serious danger. They see a calm surface; they don’t see the storms I’ve already weathered.

We’re emotionless or lack empathy.

Autistic adults often feel too much, not too little.

Empathy might look different — expressed through problem-solving, mirror empathy or quiet presence rather than conventional gestures.

We’re all tech geniuses or savants.

Some autistic adults are analytical or detail-oriented, but autism doesn’t automatically equal Rain Man or a hacker stereotype.

Temple Grandin, once a pioneer in autistic self-advocacy during a time it was needed, is no longer what autistic people need today. She supports eugenics, not acceptance of the autism spectrum.

Working in retail has taught me I’m not the savant authority figures growing up claimed me to be.

Rather, the problem is that standards are so low for those who seamlessly conform that outliers like me stick out for going “above and beyond”.

For actually working…

Why not instead raise the standard, seek out this level of talent and develop retention systems that help maintain this level of talent?

I’ve been listing what accommodations I need to withstand my full-time job long-term.

Every single item has me like, “Why is this not the norm? It could benefit everyone!”

We’re “rude” or “cold” if we’re direct.

Our communication style tends to value clarity over social fluff.

Directness is neither “aggression” nor “hostility”. Directness is honesty.

We can’t live independently or manage adult responsibilities.

As autism is a spectrum and even non-autistic people struggle to “adult” due to systemic challenges, this is an unfair misconception.

Autistic adults who do manage to live independently or manage adult responsibilities often experience burnout cycles or hidden struggles outsiders never see.

You also can’t know how an autistic person lives their life unless they share it.

Even as a blogger with a history of being vulnerable on the internet, autistic content creators have accused me of not struggling with things and therefore having no place to speak about them.

I’m not obligated to prove to anyone my experience or how I have a “right” to write about what I write about.

Despite this huge misconception, I meet far more autistic adults my age who live with spouses or supportive family.

While I have lived alone, I don’t currently. I rent a room in someone else’s house and often wonder if I ever will live on my own and what that might look like.

We’re all diagnosed as kids.

Many adults were misdiagnosed or missed completely due to outdated stereotypes — especially women, trans and nonbinary people.

Some autistics weren’t diagnosed simply because they loved spicy food and people thought autistic people couldn’t tolerate spicy food.

Adult diagnosis stories are increasingly common because the system failed us early on.

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Every autistic person experiences autism differently.

What is true for one autistic adult is not necessarily the same experience of another autistic person.

Like when you and your friend both have orange cats, but yours doesn’t meet any of the stereotypes:

• You have a calm, orange cat who loves cuddles and playtime with none of the shenanigans.
• Your friend has an active, orange cat who gives her loads of meme and video opportunities.

Both orange cats are still orange cats!