Unmasking Autism Diary #10: Choose Your Camp

Read now (6 mins) | Unfriending ableists: from inside Angela's Autistic mind

May 10, 2023

Dear Diary,

When I was still masking 24/7, I was in this agreement with the world that Autism was bad (or at least unfortunate) and as the afflicted party it was my job to constantly try to “do better.” 

For many years, even after my diagnosis at 39, I was in agreement that the neuromajority was doing things the right way and I should figure out that way and “do that,” even if it felt wrong to me. Life coaching (specifically thought work) helped me get very effective at this but what I was doing was thinking myself out of my truth and training myself to mask all day, every day, to the point of Autistic burnout.

I was peeling that burn-out-and-recovery onion for most of 2020-2022, so for 2023 I made a commitment to more fully unmask this year. As I have embraced this process, I’ve been observing some weird side effects.

With new people unmasking is pretty easy:

• I disclose my Autism early.

• I set the tone and expectations that match me.

• I back off—or out—if they don’t dig it. 

With people who have known me since before 2020, I have found that as I more fully unmask, they have been sorted into 3 camps. I’m going to share these camps here and maybe if you have known me since the “before times,” you can guess which camp you are in. If you love someone else who is Autistic, see what camp you might fall in with them.

1. CAMP “Embrace me my sweet embraceable you” (Camp EMMSEY)

Friends in Camp Emmsey have leaned in, read my posts, listened to some or all of the podcast, ask curious questions, and sometimes reflect on old stories like, “I always wondered why you did that but now I get it.” Our friendships have grown deeper and feel more real and valuable to me. I could list many people here but Paul, Gina, Megan Jo, Laura…I’d sit around the campfire at Camp Emmsey with you forever. MWAH! 

2. CAMP “Don’t ask. Don’t tell.” (Camp Dad-T)

Camp Dad-T is a’ight. Friends here are quite loving and continue to reach out to connect but they clearly aren’t interested in hearing me talk about autism. It’s boring or not interesting to them. They don’t see the connection to our friendship. Maybe they are afraid they are going to say something wrong so they are saying nothing, and generally I can be myself around them as long as I agree not to “make them uncomfortable” by bringing it up. While I am mostly unmasked when at Camp Dad-T, agreeing with the premise autism is something that shouldn’t be discussed, is masking a bit in its own way. I’m on guard and ready for the other shoe to drop but I’m not out. I keep these people in my life but feel generally less close to them. These relationships are still important enough to keep, but it feels like they have decreasing value to me. I don’t mind occasionally visiting Camp Dad-T but I am definitely not looking for a permanent place to park the camper.

3. CAMP “Change Back Attack” Camp CuBA

This camp is kind of like Guantanamo Bay. It’s basically a living, breathing, human rights violation. People at Camp Cuba would like its detainees to, “Get over it,” and, “Stop being so dramatic.” The nicer guards either disbelieve my diagnosis (despite no information, research or expertise) or they believe it, but based on looking at me, they still think I could just work hard and act appropriately based on their definition of appropriate. These people don’t want to talk to me or anyone else to understand what Autism is (which is true for camp 2 as well) but they also want ME to stop talking about it or trying to understand it or help others. This camp used to be close to 100% of my world and now it’s maybe 10%, but my tolerance for these people has gone to almost zero and their value to me has as well. Like why would you voluntarily visit Guantanamo Bay if you did somehow manage to get out of there?  When I am with someone from this camp now—actually even if I just think about being with someone from this camp—my throat closes and I can’t breathe. 

The problem with people in camp 3 is they become toxic to you. Wait this is my diary…Back to me…The problem with people in camp 3 is they became toxic to me.

I tried for decades to convince myself I was at a beautiful Caribbean paradise and I should just enjoy it, but then, once I saw it was a detention camp not a recreation camp, I literally developed an allergy. 

I used to spend all my time in this world and I must have had all these antibodies built up. I guess I agreed with them that my autistic traits were bad and I wanted to change them too. Now that I don’t see it that way, being in the presence of people in camp 3 is almost completely intolerable. It feels like I’m jumping out of my skin. All my sensory issues go to 11. Every sound is annoying, every smell accosts me. My ears ring at a high pitch. My vision narrows to a tiny tunnel. Trauma triggers. I become irritable (which makes sense when you are under a sensory assault) and I have to leave. So…These camp 3 people have been (or at least are in the process of being) eliminated from my life. 

And I guess I’m sad about that because I love many people in this camp but the choice I made to unmask was also a choice to eliminate all of these people from my life and I just didn't realize that at the time.

This is why many Autistics choose not to unmask. It’s nicer to pretend they are on a Caribbean beach than a seaside detention center. We lie to ourselves.

Oh—wait…There is that third person creeping in again….

I lied to myself so I didn’t have to face the loss and grief that came with seeing the bigger picture. 

Masking makes you strong and tolerant to certain people and behaviors, and unmasking makes your relationships deeper, more fulfilling, stronger, and more real; but only for those who can accept it.

When I thought about unmasking I was thinking about celebrating my special interests, reframing Autistic stereotypes, and embracing Autistic communication styles. I really wasn’t thinking about how intolerant unmasking would make me to people and spaces where I wasn’t welcome. 

Camp EMMSEY is fun and filled with love, and, not surprisingly, it's where I want to be and where I mostly am. My home, my job, and the friends and family members I see and talk to most are 100% with me in Camp Embrace Me My Sweet Embraceable You. I love it here! It’s so easy! Suicidal ideation at this camp is sub 0% (I came to this camp because I was trying to get out of pervasive thoughts of suicide and it worked!)

Camp DAD-T is okay for short stays but Camp Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is just not that much fun. I mean I’ll go if I have to, and visits don’t make me feel suicidal or anything, but it’s not somewhere I want to stay and I wonder if I’ll want to visit less and less over time? 

I’m not acquiring friends and connections in camp Dad-T. I’m minimizing grief and loss by not ending those relationships and I’m not ending them because they don’t feel like they will kill me. 

The problem is being in Camp CuBA feels like a short road to a death sentence. I know that might sound dramatic, but I don’t have the constitutional fortitude to navigate those spaces anymore. I’m weirdly sad I have lost that ability. It feels like a booby prize for unmasking, and yet I know if I didn’t unmask, I would have taken my life. At least right now Camp CuBA is a no-go zone. 

***

The Dear Diary Project is a public journaling project where I’m publicly sharing my diary entries as part of my annual goals. No harm is intended by these posts. My goal is to gain clarity for myself and hopefully help others, especially autistic adults, who are trying to make sense of the communication challenges we face.

“Masking is a common coping mechanism in which Autistic people hide their identifiably Autistic traits in order to fit in with societal norms, adopting a superficial personality at the expense of their mental health. This can include suppressing harmless stims, papering over communication challenges by presenting as unassuming and mild-mannered, and forcing themselves into situations that cause severe anxiety, all so they aren’t seen as needy or “odd.”
—Unmasking Autism, Dr. Devon Price

*Background note: Most people only have a vague (often, highly stereotyped) version of autism in their minds and believe that autistic children need ABA therapy to "overcome" their disability and appear "normal."  After receiving an autism diagnosis in her thirties, Dr. Angela Lauria realized that she too had been mostly unaware of what it means to be Autistic.  Like so many people, she started her journey by first gathering information and resources from the omnipresent (and problematic) Autism Speaks, but eventually moved away from the 'autism community' in favor of the 'Autistic community,' where she found kinship with other Autistic individuals and learned to let go of pathologizing language like 'Autism Spectrum Disorder' and 'Asperger's Syndrome.'  This autism blog (and her autism podcast, "The Autistic Culture Podcast") is meant to share her lived-experience insights to support others on a similar journey of diagnosis, understanding, and community. Embrace Autism--differences are not deficits.