Why Autistic Adults Love Libraries: Nerd Pride, Sensory Calm, and Ancestral Memory

Take me to my happy place!

Libraries are our happy place! (And always have been)

If you’ve ever chosen a library over a nightclub, devoured books while everyone else was partying, or lost an entire day to wandering the aisles of Barnes & Noble—you’re not alone. For many of us, especially those who are autistic or neurodivergent, the library isn’t just a place—it’s a sensory refuge, a sanctuary, and a source of deep joy.

I’ve written before about my obsession with books. Let’s be clear—this isn’t a hobby, it’s a lifestyle! I’ve spent my last dollars hoarding used books, sniffing pages like perfume, and organizing my shelves like sacred altars. The smell, the texture, the silence—these aren’t just preferences. They’re calming tools. They’re home.

In many of the autism assessments I’ve conducted over the years—especially the Autism Spectrum Quotient (AQ) and related tools formerly used for Asperger’s Syndrome—there’s a recurring theme: a love of facts, systems, and information. The “little professor” archetype. The kid who knew everything about trains, or insects, or medieval weaponry. Or, in my case—psychology, human behavior, and trauma.

When I was younger, I was labeled a nerd. A know-it-all. Someone who knew too many things. It wasn’t always meant kindly.

But now, I see it differently.

Being a “nerd” was my survival strategy.

I grew up in violent, gang-infested neighborhood with a father who was a gang member. For me, the library wasn’t just a luxury, it was a lifeline. It was the only quiet place in a world full of chaos. The library offered something no one else could: predictability, peace, and the freedom to explore my brain.

“Little Professors,” “Know-It-Alls,” and the Roots of Neurodivergent Nerd Pride

The Sensory Joy of Libraries

Autistic adults often report heightened sensory sensitivity—and for many of us, the sensory world of a library is deeply soothing:

• The soft rustling of pages

• The quiet murmur of people reading

• The feel of textured paper under fingertips

• The smell of old books and polished wood

It’s a full-body experience. A sensory regulation practice, whether we realize it or not.

I always tell clients: your special interests aren’t just hobbies—they’re regulation strategies. They’re also often the first thing that brings you joy after years of masking or survival.

So if your safe space is a bookstore or a library? You’re not alone. In fact, you’re likely part of a long neurodivergent lineage that found calm in catalog systems and joy in footnotes.

Are Libraries and Bookstores Dying?

Sadly, yes. Libraries and bookstores are underfunded and disappearing in many communities. According to the American Library Association, public library funding has declined in over 40% of U.S. states in the past decade. Independent bookstores are also struggling, though there’s been a recent resurgence in community-supported shops (ALA, 2023).

And yet—they remain vital.

They are sensory sanctuaries, especially for those of us who feel overstimulated by the world.

The Epigenetic Connection: Are We Wired for Knowledge?

Now, here’s where it gets wild. There’s emerging research in the field of epigenetics showing that environmental exposures—like trauma, safety, or fear—can leave lasting changes in gene expression across generations (Dias & Ressler, 2014).

In one fascinating study, researchers exposed mice to the smell of cherry blossoms paired with mild electric shocks. Their offspring, who had never experienced the trauma themselves, still showed heightened fear responses to the smell.

Could our deep love of books—our obsessive hunger for information—be a kind of genetic memory? A link to ancestors who survived through intellect, observation, or encyclopedic knowledge of their environments?

If so, then maybe your love of libraries is more than nostalgia. Maybe it’s ancestral.

Being Autistic, Being a Nerd, and Being Proud!

You don’t have to call yourself autistic to belong here. But if you’ve ever been called a “nerd,” a “know-it-all,” or someone who “thinks too much,” you might be part of the same neurodivergent family.

We’re the ones who:

• Read one book a week—or ten

• Organize facts for fun

• Love listening to librarians talk about the Dewey Decimal System

• Prefer deep conversation over small talk

• Feel calm in quiet places full of information

You are not alone!

A Love Letter to Fellow Library Nerds!

This post is a love letter to the people who:

• Bring books to coffee shops like emotional support animals

• Read psychology textbooks for fun

• Go to Barnes & Noble for a sensory break

• Would rather parallel read than make small talk at parties

• Feel safer in a library than in a group chat

And especially to those of you late-diagnosed like me—this isn’t a flaw. It’s a gift. A superpower. One that has likely saved you more than once.

Call to Action: Make Time for the Library!

So, if you’re feeling overwhelmed or overstimulated—go to the library. Find a book. Sit in the quiet. Parallel read with someone else. Or just smell the pages.

• Let your brain feast.

• Let your nervous system exhale.

• And if no one else gets it, I do.

• You are not too much; you are just enough.

• And you’re probably one of us.

References

American Library Association. (2023). The State of America’s Libraries Report. https://www.ala.org/news/state-americas-libraries-report-2023

Dias, B. G., & Ressler, K. J. (2014). Parental olfactory experience influences behavior and neural structure in subsequent generations. Nature Neuroscience, 17(1), 89–96. https://doi.org/10.1038/nn.3594