Autistic Masking: Good Social Skills Can Delay Diagnosis in Women
How women can become good at socializing—and still be autistic. Misconceptions that lead to late diagnosis in "high-performing" women.
I have RBF - “resting bitch face”
At least that’s what I’ve been told my entire life. As long as I can remember, people’s reaction to my relaxed face was to ask me, “What’s wrong?”, “Are you upset?”, “Why do you look so mad?”. Or
they assumed I was mean, stuck-up, or disliked them.
What is masking?
I learned early in life that my facial expressions affected how other people reacted to me and treated me. And because my relaxed face was often interpreted negatively I learned to change it.
For most of my adult life, at work and in social interactions, I’ve intentionally “fixed my face”—consciously raised my eyebrows, arranged my mouth into a slight smile, and forced eye contact—so I appeared “more friendly.”
This is called masking. Masking refers to strategies autistic people use to hide or compensate for autistic traits in social situations, such as copying others, rehearsing convos, or closely monitoring their behavior (Hull et al., 2017).
Why do autistic people mask?
Autistic people mask to fit in socially, but also to make other people feel comfortable. Smiling so others feel at ease. Making eye contact so others feel heard. Changing their tone so they don’t sound “rude”. They monitor other people’s reactions and adjust themselves accordingly—often at the expense of their own comfort—as a way to manage the feelings of others (Hull et al., 2017).
I “fix my face” not because I want to or like to, but because I’m aware of how uncomfortable other people may feel with my relaxed state.
Why are so many women diagnosed late?
“You’re too _______ to be autistic”
Insert: friendly, social, pretty, confident, etc.
Historically, autism research focused largely on boys and men, which contributed to autism being overlooked in girls and women—especially those who mask (Bargiela et al., 2016). There’s also a stereotype that autistic people are “obviously” socially awkward or lack social skills. But many late-diagnosed autistic women learn to mask their social difficulties by observing others and developing strategies to navigate social situations (Bargiela et al., 2016; Hull et al., 2017).
So because they may appear socially skilled, friendly, and confident—and because their social difficulties aren’t as visible—their autism can be missed. In high masking late diagnosed women, the social struggle is often internal. There is a conscious effort internally to observe, analyze, monitor, adjust and overthink social interactions (Bargiela et al. 2016).
So instead of asking: “Can she socialize?”.
The better question is: “How much conscious effort does socializing require of her?”.
Masking Takes a Toll
Everyone adjusts their behavior sometimes. But autistic masking often involves constantly and consciously managing things that others may do more automatically—facial expressions, eye contact, tone, body language, and social responses.
That constant self-monitoring takes energy. Research describes masking as mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausting (Hull et al., 2017), and greater masking has been associated with greater autistic burnout (Benatov et al., 2025).
Someone can look completely fine on the outside while working incredibly hard to look that way. Over time, that effort can contribute to burnout. It did for me.
Learning to Unmask
Since my diagnosis, I’ve slowly unmasked at work and in my personal life. I don’t “fix my face” as often any more, and I prioritize my own energy needs rather than managing the feelings of others. It’s made a huge difference in my burnout recovery.
Women are often expected to prioritize other people’s comfort, and for me, masking became another way of doing that. Learning to unmask has meant giving myself permission to prioritize my own comfort and energy. The people I keep in my life understand and accept this.
Wherever you are in your journey, I hope you know that your needs matter—and your relaxed, unmasked self is allowed to show up.
Want to unmask but don’t know where to start?
In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing a research-informed guide with practical steps for unmasking at work and in everyday life. Subscribe to get it when it’s released.
Note: This is my personal experience, not medical advice. If you recognize yourself in it, consider talking to a clinician who can help you figure out what you’re dealing with and what support fits.
References
Bargiela, S., Steward, R., & Mandy, W. (2016). The experiences of late-diagnosed women with autism spectrum conditions: An investigation of the female autism phenotype. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 46(10), 3281–3294. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10803-016-2872-8
Benatov, J., Sarel-Mahlev, E., & Bar Yehuda, S. (2025). Camouflage, burnout-exhaustion, and depression in autistic adults. Autism in Adulthood. https://doi.org/10.1089/aut.2024.0147
Hull, L., Petrides, K. V., Allison, C., Smith, P., Baron-Cohen, S., Lai, M.-C., & Mandy, W. (2017). “Putting on my best normal”: Social camouflaging in adults with autism spectrum conditions. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 47, 2519–2534. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10803-017-3166-5