Growing Up Autistic in a Neurotypical World

Hey friend. If you’ve stumbled across this, maybe you’re autistic yourself, or someone you care about is. Or maybe you’re just curious and trying to understand what growing up autistic really feels like. Either way, I’m glad you’re here. This isn’t going to be some medical breakdown with charts or a clinical analysis with big words. This is just one of those real, honest chats the kind you’d have with a friend over coffee (or bubble tea if that’s more your vibe).

Let’s talk about what it’s like to grow up autistic in a world that’s just... not designed for you.

The Early Years: Noticing You're "Different"

So imagine you’re a kid. You’re in school, and everyone around you seems to just know how to act. They just get the rules of the social world. How to take turns in conversation, how to make eye contact, when to laugh at a joke even if it’s not funny. Meanwhile, you’re there trying to decode this mysterious language of behavior. It’s like everyone got a manual and you didn’t.

You might flap your hands when you’re excited. Or maybe you talk endlessly about dinosaurs or train schedules or deep-sea creatures because they just light you up inside. But people look at you weird. Teachers try to get you to “participate more normally.” Other kids might tease you or leave you out.

And you start to wonder: What’s wrong with me?

That question: what's wrong with me? is a hard one. And honestly, for a long time, a lot of us autistic folks carry it around. It sits heavy in the backpack of life, even though the real truth is: there’s nothing wrong. You’re just wired differently. Not broken. Just... different.

The Masking Game: Trying to Fit In

One of the biggest things autistic kids (especially girls and AFAB folks) learn early on is how to “mask.” Masking is like acting except you’re doing it every day, for years, and no one pays you for the performance.

You study people. You copy the way they laugh, how they stand, what kind of clothes they wear. You force yourself to make eye contact even though it burns like staring into the sun. You fake interest in things you don’t care about. You rehearse jokes, facial expressions, even the right time to nod.

And for a while, it works. People think you’re “normal.” But inside? You’re exhausted. It’s like trying to hold your breath for hours. You start to lose track of who you really are underneath all that effort. Some of us don’t even realize we’re masking it just becomes automatic.

But eventually, the burnout comes. And it’s brutal.

School Life: Sensory Hell and Hidden Talents

Let’s talk about school. On the surface, school is about learning, right? But for an autistic kid, school can feel like running a marathon through a minefield.

First, the sensory stuff. The flickering fluorescent lights that buzz like angry bees. The chaotic noise of lunchrooms. The scratchy uniforms. The weird smells. It’s all too much. And when your brain’s in constant survival mode from all that overstimulation, it’s really hard to focus on algebra.

Then there’s the social pressure. Group projects? Nightmare fuel. Recess? Confusing and unpredictable. And don’t even get me started on oral presentations.

But here’s the cool part: autistic brains are also incredibly talented. A lot of us have “spiky profiles,” which means we might struggle in some areas but shine bright in others. Maybe you could memorize the entire periodic table in a week. Or draw photorealistic animals from memory. Or solve complex puzzles that stump everyone else.

Those gifts? They matter. They’re worth celebrating. But so often in school, they get overshadowed by what we can’t do. And that’s a shame.

Friendships: Tricky, But Not Impossible

Making friends is hard when you don’t instinctively get the unspoken rules. Like, how do you know when someone actually wants to hang out versus when they’re just being polite? How do you navigate small talk? How do you deal with sarcasm that flies over your head?

Growing up, a lot of us end up feeling lonely. Not because we don’t want friends but because we don’t know how to keep them. Or we get used, taken advantage of, ghosted. That leaves scars.

But when do we find our people? It’s magic.

Autistic friendships might look a little different. Maybe they’re built around shared interests instead of endless chit-chat. Maybe we go deep instead of wide. Maybe we send each other memes instead of texting every day. That’s okay. Real connection isn’t about following a script, it's about feeling safe enough to be your weird, wonderful self.

Family Life: Misunderstandings and Moments of Gold

Families can be tricky. Some autistic kids grow up with super supportive parents who get them, fight for them, and help them thrive. Others... not so much.

Sometimes parents just don’t understand why their kid doesn’t want to go to birthday parties, or why they scream when their routine gets changed, or why they can’t just “try harder” at school. They might punish meltdowns instead of seeing them as signs of overload. They might push therapies aimed at making us “less autistic,” which can feel like a rejection of who we are.

That hurts. Deeply.

But there are also those golden moments. When your parents learn how to advocate for you. When your sibling helps you through a shutdown. When your family starts learning about neurodiversity and begins to see your traits not as problems but as part of your beautiful mosaic.

Those moments? They heal.

Puberty and Teen Life: A Whole New Level of Chaos

Just when you think you’ve got childhood somewhat figured out, BAM puberty hits. And it’s a whole new ballgame.

Your body’s changing. Your emotions are on a rollercoaster. Social hierarchies get even weirder. You might start noticing you’re attracted to people and you might not fit into the typical mold of attraction or gender expression.

A lot of autistic folks are also LGBTQIA+, which can add another layer of identity stuff to sort through. And again, it’s easy to feel like you’re the only one who just doesn’t get it.

Add to that executive dysfunction (hi, can’t start homework even though I’ve been staring at it for 3 hours), sensory overload, and the pressure to fit in? It’s a lot.

But teen years can also be a time when we start to find ourselves. We discover online communities. We read about neurodivergence and start putting the pieces together. We meet other people like us. And for the first time, we start to think: Hey… maybe I’m not broken. Maybe I’m just different.

The Autism Diagnosis (or Not)

Some people get diagnosed as kids. Others get their diagnosis as teens or even as adults. And for a surprising number of folks, the signs are missed entirely especially if you’re not a white boy who fits the “classic” autism stereotype.

Getting a diagnosis can feel like a double-edged sword. On one hand, it's a relief. Finally, an explanation! I’m not lazy or rude or broken, I'm autistic. On the other hand, it can bring grief. You might look back on all the times you were misunderstood and wonder how things could’ve been different.

If you never got a formal diagnosis but you know you’re autistic deep down in your bones your experience is still valid. Self-identification is real, and it matters.

Adulthood: New Challenges, New Freedom

Adulthood brings its own set of challenges. Jobs, relationships, bills, sensory-unfriendly work environments, having to call the doctor (ugh). The world isn’t exactly built for autistic adults either.

But adulthood also brings freedom. You can curate your environment. Choose your people. Set boundaries. Embrace your special interests without shame. Get noise-canceling headphones, weighted blankets, and yes schedule your own air duct cleaning if dust is a sensory trigger.

You get to unmask even just a little. You get to figure out what brings you joy and peace. And you start to realize: being autistic isn’t something you need to overcome. It’s part of you. And that part deserves love and care and pride.

The Good Stuff: What’s Awesome About Being Autistic

Let’s take a moment to flip the script. Yeah, there are struggles. But there’s also so much beauty in being autistic.

• Hyperfocus: When we love something, we really love it. We dive deep. We become experts.

• Honesty: We say what we mean. No games. No hidden agendas.

• Unique perspective: We see patterns others miss. We come up with creative solutions. We think differently and that’s a gift.

• Loyalty: Our friendships, while few, are often deep and fiercely loyal.

• Joy: The way we light up when we talk about our favorite thing? It’s pure. It’s beautiful.

Autism isn’t a disease. It’s a neurotype. A different operating system. And like all systems, it has its quirks and glitches but it also has strengths, power, and beauty.

What the Neurotypical World Needs to Hear

If you’re not autistic, but you care about someone who is listening up. The best thing you can do is meet us where we are. Don’t try to “fix” us. Learn about our needs. Ask what makes us comfortable. Be patient when we’re overwhelmed.

And most of all don’t underestimate us. We’re capable, smart, creative, and worthy of respect. We might do things differently, but different isn’t wrong. Different is just… different.

Final Thoughts (Without Saying “In Conclusion”)

Growing up autistic in a neurotypical world isn’t always easy. It can be isolating, confusing, and exhausting. But it can also be full of moments of connection, discovery, and pride.

If you’re autistic and reading this: you’re not alone. You’re not broken. Your brain is valid. Your needs are valid. Your joy, your quirks, your passions they all matter. You matter.

And if you're a parent, friend, teacher, partner, or coworker of an autistic person, keep learning. Keep listening. Keep showing up. We notice. And it means more than you know.