Is Everybody Just Fake, or Am I Autistic?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this feeling—this nagging thought that something wasn’t quite right about the way people interact with each other. The small talk, the polite but empty smiles, the “How are you?” that no one actually wants an answer to.
I used to wonder, Is everybody just fake? Or is it me?
How I Found Myself in the Autism World (Before I Even Knew I Was Neurodivergent)
In my early 20s (maybe even younger), I started working for autism agencies. These jobs were easy to get because most people didn’t want them—high turnover, long hours, intense behaviors. But I wasn’t deterred. I was curious.
And then something happened that I didn’t expect.
I fit in immediately.
I didn’t know I was neurodivergent at the time. I didn’t understand why I felt comfortable in these spaces, why I naturally connected with autistic kids, teens, and adults. But I did.
Meanwhile, people around me would say things like:
“Oh my gosh, you must have a heart of gold to work with autistic kids.”
And I just thought, Who wouldn’t want to work with these incredible humans?
Even the non-speaking autistic kids—who were clearly struggling because they couldn’t communicate—were not difficult for me to connect with. We found other ways:
• Sign language
• iPads and Proloquo apps
• PECS (Picture Exchange Communication System)
And when communication improved? The behaviors faded.
I realized something profound: These kids weren’t “bad” or “difficult.” They were just misunderstood.
The Brutal Honesty That Felt Like Home
One of the things that struck me the most was the raw honesty of autistic people.
And I loved it.
• If they didn’t like something, they said it.
• If they were annoyed, they showed it.
• If they thought I looked tired or my breath smelled like coffee, they’d tell me (bluntly).
And instead of being offended, I appreciated it.
Because everywhere else in life, people were fake as hell.
In most social settings, I felt like I was suffocating under layers of politeness, small talk, and social niceties that felt completely unnecessary.
“Just say what you mean!”
But in autism spaces? No masks. No faking. Just honesty.
And sure, sometimes the honesty could be sharp. But it was real. And that mattered more than anything.
Working in Autism Wasn’t a “Job” for Me—It Was a Safe Space
Over the years, I worked across the lifespan—kids, teens, and adults. And one thing remained the same:
I felt safe in these spaces.
• I worked for agencies where many of the supervisors were probably autistic themselves.
• I studied under an advisor in grad school who specialized in autism (and, looking back, was likely autistic too).
• I kept choosing to work with autistic clients, even when people told me to “branch out.”
Because this was where I fit.
And I didn’t know why at the time, but now I do.
Why Does Society Prioritize “Manners” Over Honesty?
Here’s something I’ve noticed:
Most people prefer manners over honesty.
• They want politeness over authenticity.
• They want comfort over truth.
And when you’re neurodivergent, that can be a problem.
Because when I’m blunt or direct, people don’t see it as honesty—they see it as rudeness.
And yet, I crave the same honesty from others. I want to know the truth, even when it stings. I want people in my life who don’t sugarcoat, who don’t perform for social approval.
And I’ve found that mostly…in autistic spaces.
Masking vs. Social Awareness: The Balance
Now, let’s be real—brutal honesty without awareness can sometimes hurt people. That’s not the goal.
There’s a balance between:
• Masking (hiding who you are)
• Social awareness (understanding how your words impact others)
For autistic people, this balance can be tough. Many have been told their entire lives that they need to:
• Be “less blunt”
• Act more “normal”
• Suppress their emotions
But at what cost?
For many, masking leads to burnout, depression, and anxiety. It’s a form of self-betrayal.
So while I do believe in teaching social awareness (i.e., “Hey, that comment might have hurt someone—how can we say it differently?”), I never want my clients to feel like they have to be fake.
If You’ve Ever Asked, “Is Everybody Just Fake, or Am I Autistic?”—You’re Not Alone
If you’re reading this and thinking, Holy crap, this is me, then I want to tell you:
• You’re not broken.
• You’re not “too much.”
• You’re not “rude” just because you prefer honesty over small talk.
You’re probably just neurodivergent.
And whether you have a formal diagnosis or not doesn’t matter. What matters is finding your people.
Final Thoughts: Find Your People, Keep It Real
I spent years wondering why social interactions felt so forced—why I couldn’t just be the way I am without feeling like an outsider.
It turns out, I wasn’t broken.
I was just wired differently.
And if you feel the same, I want you to know:
✅ You don’t have to fake it.
✅ You don’t have to suppress your honesty.
✅ You don’t have to “perform” for people who don’t appreciate the real you.
You just need to find the people who get it.
And if you’re looking for that space, I’d love to help.
Call to Action: Let’s Talk
If this resonates with you—if you’re learning about your neurodivergent traits, struggling with masking, or just tired of fake social interactions—let’s connect.
I work with autistic and ADHD adults who want to embrace who they are, find their people, and stop feeling like they have to pretend to fit in.
➡️ Schedule a consultation with me here:
Because you deserve to be in spaces where you can be your real, honest, unapologetic self.