Masking Is Exhausting (Especially When You’re the One Who Holds It All Together)
If you’ve spent any time on social media lately, you might have seen those videos of people finally getting home after a long day out among people, or logging off from a work call, or closing their door behind visitors - and sighing a huge sigh of relief before turning into a slightly unhinged, feral version of themselves.
Or maybe it’s not on social media, maybe it’s something you’ve experienced yourself.
You know - finally feeling like you can lie on the floor motionless, sing or do a lil’ dance, and everything in between. Talk to yourself, switch off all lights, cosy up on the sofa under a blanket in complete silence… I could go on.
Why does my social media show me this? Because these are all possible examples of unmasking, and I’m a neurodivergent-affirming therapist who’s also exploring her own neurodivergence.
And you - you might also be someone who’s used to appearing fine and put together, when inside it actually takes a lot of bloody effort. Someone who’s done pretty well in whatever way has mattered to you, but it hasn’t been easy (and it still isn’t).
It’s not been easy because, perhaps, you’ve felt a little different, a little out of place, a little bit like an alien - and you’ve been trying so hard to fit in, and getting quite good at it too.
It’s exhausting to operate in a world that wasn’t made for you. Especially when everyone assumes you’re doing just fine.
What masking looks like for high-achievers
Neurodivergent masking is, in a nutshell, hiding or adapting parts of yourself to fit into a neurotypical world - for example if you’re autistic, ADHD, or AuDHD. This means you might:
Pre-plan, rehearse, or script conversations
Mirror other people’s body language, facial expressions, or reactions
Force yourself to maintain eye contact or sit still
Suppress your need to stim, or stim in more “socially acceptable ways”
But it goes deeper than that. Masking can implicitly reinforce the ideas that:
There’s something wrong with you
You need to change, fix, or adapt to be accepted
Your needs are not important (and/or exaggerated)
It is unacceptable, or even unsafe to be yourself
And if you’re a high-achiever, this can also extend into things like:
Pushing yourself to do things the same way as everyone else does - so you’re not ‘found out’ as incompetent
Monitoring yourself constantly to make sure you come across the ‘right’ way
Pressure to maintain an image of being put together - and of it being effortless
Self-judgement - reinforced by being praised for masking instead of prioritising your needs or being yourself
Why do people mask?
This is obviously a very big, and very ‘general’ question - and by no means will my answer cover everyone’s reasons, because everyone’s different. But most often, the reasons why people mask boil down to a few things:
Belonging
Protection
Safety
This links in with some of the ‘messaging’ I mentioned above, because you may have:
Grown up feeling different
Been told, implicitly or explicitly, that you’re ‘too sensitive’, ‘not good enough’, ‘lazy’, ‘too intense’, ‘too quiet’, ‘not applying yourself’ etc etc etc
Been praised when you were quiet, or not ‘making a fuss’, or ‘blending in’ (when you were, in fact, masking) - and when you were ‘achieving’ (despite massive internal struggles)
Over time, this can turn into:
High standards
A fear of judgement, failure, vulnerability
An identity tied to being accepted and ‘achieving’
And if this has been your way of moving through the world for years, it’s no wonder it starts to take a massive toll.
Why masking becomes exhausting over time
In a very general, overarching sense, masking is like playing a role every day - like being two (or more!) people. Acting is a job, right - not someone’s life. Except, for you, it might be.
Which, of course, comes with lots of effort.
This effort can include:
A higher cognitive load from constant self-monitoring
Overload from overstimulation, the effects of which you try to suppress
Unmet needs from constantly pushing yourself
But it can, again, go deeper:
Loss of identity
Disconnect from your sense of self
Confusion around your values
Add to this the high standards and pressure of keeping up the appearance of effortless ‘success’ that neurodivergent high-achievers are under, and you get:
Feeling uncomfortable or undeserving of rest
People-pleasing - always putting others first, never yourself
Perfectionism - overdoing everything in an attempt to get it right all the time, and go ‘above and beyond’ to prove yourself
This, unsurprisingly, becomes unsustainable, and can often turn into burnout - which we often think of in neurotypical terms, but which can look a little different in autistic or ADHD people.
Why pushing through doesn’t work
When pushing has been your normal for years, it can be hard to even imagine another way of being. But a first step may be to just stop, and really think through the consequences.
Because while pushing through may have got you some ‘success’, I’d like to ask some deeper questions:
Is it sustainable?
Is it the only way to achieve success?
What actually is success - for you?
Do you, perhaps, need a slightly more nuanced, neurodivergent-friendly, definition of success or achievement?
If you really consider this, you may find that pushing through means ignoring your exhaustion, and really, your basic needs. It may mean a continuing cycle of performance, disconnection, burnout, and resentment.
It may mean perpetuating the idea that there’s something ‘wrong’ with you that needs fixing, that you’re unacceptable, that you don’t deserve the same things as others.
And here’s the thing - I really do get that thinking about any alternative to this feels scary. Of course it does. Change is scary, perhaps even more so if you’re neurodivergent. People are judgemental, and they may not necessarily respond kindly to you taking care of yourself and putting in boundaries. You may feel vulnerable, lost, unsafe.
That’s why my approach will never be as simple as ‘just be yourself’.
What can actually help - without losing yourself
Here’s the main thing I want to make crystal-clear, before I go into a few more details: The goal here is not to, once again, change something about yourself, nor is it to just stop masking completely.
The goal, really, is to have more choice and flexibility - so that you can:
Work with your brain, rather than fight it
Know what you need, and take care of yourself
Still be you, just a little kinder to yourself
Day-by-day, in the moment, this might look like:
Starting to notice signals in your mind or body to know when things become too much
Learning what can help you personally, and leaning into this
Learning to notice when your mind or your emotions may be getting in the way
Experimenting, at your own pace, with small changes in the direction you need
Learning to relate differently, more gently to your thoughts and emotions
But there’s often a deeper layer to this too, which means exploring:
Who you are, and who you want to be, when you don’t mask
What your experiences have led you to believe about yourself, other people, and the world - and what rules you’ve developed to cope
What it may be like to gently loosen the grip of these beliefs and rules
What it may be like to bring in some self-compassion
The goal, remember, is not to stop masking altogether, or to get it ‘right’ - but to be able to decide when you do and when you don’t, so it’s truly helpful for you, not for what you think you should be like.
If your masking is wearing you down…
You’re not alone, you’re not broken, and there’s nothing to fix. In fact, it’s completely understandable why you’ve been doing it, and why starting to do things a little differently feels scary.
This is the exact sort of thing I work with in therapy. You can read more about how I approach therapy for high-achievers, and particularly, how I work with masking and neurodivergence in therapy.
Hi, I’m Carina - an experienced, yet very human BABCP-accredited CBT therapist specialising in working with high-achievers with low self-esteem, high-functioning anxiety, or OCD, including autistic and ADHD folks, as well as LGBTQIA+ folks.
I use evidence-based approaches - Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT), but really from an Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) and mindfulness perspective - so if you’ve tried CBT before and haven’t really connected with it, I might be your person, and it would be great to hear from you.
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