An exercise in unmasking.
Testing the waters in a public space.
Through researching further about the many facets of my neurodivergence this year, I’ve begun to realize how much masking plays a part in my everyday life.
From the way I dress, the way I communicate, many of the choices I make, what I feel comfortable doing or not doing, what I push myself to do or not do despite my own comfort level, down to my own perception of myself and others.
Over the weekend, I attended an event with my wife and a couple of acquaintances in downtown Austin. I can probably count the number of events I’ve attended in downtown Austin, on a Saturday night, within the past several years, on one hand. This is a stark contrast from my early 20s, during which you could often find me out with friends drinking, on all nights of the week, going to loud concerts and bars, in a perpetual cycle of physical and mental exhaustion in the name of “fun,” “fitting in,” and⏤in reality⏤attempting to drown out the loudness and busyness in my own head.
While I’ve developed into the type of neurodivergent who craves quiet, safety, predictability, and comfort on a Saturday night, my wife (who is also neurodivergent) tends to crave exciting, stimulating experiences and novelty. We try to establish a balance which caters to both of our needs whenever possible.
