Glorifying Autism: The Harm Behind “You Don’t Look Autistic”
Autism is not a costume.
It’s not an aesthetic.
It’s not a TikTok trend or a tragic backstory—or something you can “look like.”
As someone who was diagnosed autistic as a child and repeatedly told I “don’t seem autistic,” I’ve lived at the intersection of two conflicting narratives: the stigma and the glorification. And both, in their extremes, dehumanize.
The Myth of “Not Autistic Enough”
Let’s be honest: the idea that someone isn’t “autistic enough” because they mask well or make eye contact is not a compliment. It’s a misunderstanding rooted in outdated stereotypes—often white, male, childhood-based portrayals that ignore the vast spectrum of neurodivergent expression.
When people say “you don’t look autistic,” they’re often responding to a curated public image. What they don’t see is the exhaustion after social interactions, the sensory overload in everyday environments, the executive dysfunction that makes small tasks monumental.
This statement does more harm than good. It dismisses lived experience. It implies performance. It makes invisible pain even more invisible.
→ Related reading: The Cost of Masking: Why Autistic People Burn Out – NeuroClastic
→ Watch: “Autism Isn't What You Think” – YouTube (Daniel Jones of The Aspie World)
When Glorification Becomes Gaslighting
In recent years, a shift has occurred in some corners of the internet: autism, particularly among influencers, has been aestheticized. You’ve probably seen it—pastel infographics, quotes about being “neurodivergent and proud,” playful merch like “autistic chaos goblin.” And while visibility and pride matter, glorification creates a sanitized version of autism. One that doesn’t make room for:
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Meltdowns and shutdowns
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Social trauma from being misread
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Sensory overwhelm in public spaces
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The fear of disclosing at work or school
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Medical gaslighting and misdiagnosis
For some, autism looks like spreadsheets and stimming with pretty lights. For others, it looks like daily survival and deep internal struggle. Both are valid. Both need space.
→ Resource: Autistic Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) – Advocacy by and for autistic people
Balancing Pride and Pain
I love the parts of me that autism has shaped. My intense focus, emotional depth, and pattern-based creativity are gifts. But I also carry real grief—grief over misunderstandings, loneliness, and late self-recognition. And I shouldn’t have to separate those truths.
Being autistic is not all pain. But it’s not all quirky joy either. Real advocacy doesn’t flatten that. It honors the complexity.
To say “you don’t look autistic” is to ignore what autism actually is: not a performance, but a neurology.
On another note, it’s important to recognize that sometimes people—especially autistic folks—share the joyful, quirky, or vibrant sides of their experience not to erase the hard parts, but to reclaim the narrative. Just because someone posts memes, stim dances, or colorful infographics doesn’t mean they aren’t also dealing with shutdowns, sensory overload, or trauma. It’s a way of saying: yes, I’m disabled and I’m allowed to take up space with joy. We can grieve what’s hard and still celebrate what’s beautiful—two things can be true at once, like quantum mechanics. Being autistic doesn’t cancel out our humanity. It’s just another way of moving through the world, with light and shadow intertwined.
What You Can Do Instead
Whether you’re neurodivergent or neurotypical, here’s how you can shift the narrative:
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Listen to autistic people, especially BIPOC, trans, and nonbinary folks often left out of the conversation.
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Retire functioning labels. They’re misleading and often based on how comfortable you are with someone’s presentation.
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Make room for contradictions. Someone can be articulate and still have communication challenges. Someone can smile and still be struggling.
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Ask, don’t assume. And never reduce someone’s identity to how well they perform for others.
→ Must-read: Why “You Don’t Look Autistic” Is Harmful – The Mighty
→ Video: What It’s Like to Mask Autism – Purple Ella on YouTube
Final Word
Autism is a spectrum—and it includes rage, joy, silence, passion, burnout, brilliance, confusion, hope. If you want to support autistic people, meet us there. In the full truth.
We don’t need to be glorified.
We need to be heard.
We need to be believed.
“Glamorizing autism” often looks like turning our neurotype into an aesthetic—highlighting the cute quirks, the creative gifts, or the intellectual ‘superpowers’—while ignoring the harder realities many autistic people face daily. But here’s the truth: we can’t always know someone’s intent. An autistic person expressing joy in their identity or sharing a curated version of their experience isn’t inherently glamorizing it. It’s important to approach with curiosity, not judgment. Instead of calling people out, we can invite deeper conversations—asking who’s being left out of the narrative? and what truths aren’t being told? Centering the full spectrum of autistic experiences—including the messy, mundane, or painful—helps ensure that our advocacy doesn’t become another form of silencing.
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Writingelite.wordpress.com: writing elite is a website that addresses family topics of all sorts, I post on there once a month.
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