The cost & gift of code switching

Different versions of me save me

Mar 27, 2025

If you’ve met me in person or watched me speak on video, you’ve likely noticed I really enjoy public speaking, connecting with people, and rallying us around a better story of love in the world.

When I shared a couple years ago that I was actually autistic, I wasn’t surprised to hear people say, “Really? I’ve seen how you communicate. There’s no way you’re autistic.”

Honestly, I thought the same thing when I started to gently tug at this thread. I would gaslight myself. My life resonated with the descriptions from Samantha Craft’s popular post about how autism uniquely shows up in the female body. But looking at my professional and public persona, I doubted my inner knowing.

a blurry photo of a woman's face — Photo by Taylor Deas-Melesh on Unsplash

I’ve been on a mission the last few years to create a life that fits who I actually am. Slowly, I’m creating space with certain friends, family members, and work folks where I can unmask (a little) and relax into my actual self.

But it’s hard!

As you’ll see in the description below, autistic folks who learn to mask are putting in a tremendous amount of effort to fit in and belong. We believe that if we dropped all this effort, people would judge and sideline us. We’ve learned to fix our faces and adjust our tone. We’ve learned to move our bodies differently. We’ve learned to prioritize your comfort.

But underneath it all, we just want to be ourselves. (Which is jarring when we might not know who that is).

As I pull new threads in this season, it’s wild to uncover a whole new layer of unconscious effort. My therapist suggested I intentionally practice code switching. I need a “work Jenny” and a “home Jenny” and a “friend Jenny.” Before diagnosis, I would have thought this to be a bit inauthentic. One should be the same genuine human in each of their interactions. This is integrity and consistent connection.

I’ve typically understood code switching as a survival skill for black and brown folks moving through white dominant culture spaces.

But I’m learning it’s a survival skill for autistic humans too, as long as we live in a capitalistic, neurotypical-centered paradigm.

man holding broken mirror — Photo by jurien huggins on Unsplash

I’m slowly learning to feel as authentic as I can inside my “work Jenny” mask while also learning it’s imperative that I know how to gently ease into my “home Jenny” self.

The goal is to have the choice to mask and unmask. The goal is knowing what is actually ME and what is an intentional choice to act neurotypical because I have the capacity that day.

The goal is to have people around me who know enough to ask, “How can I help you unmask today?” Then I might say, “Oh, thank you! I’d love to not stress about making eye contact or making the tone of my voice sound better to you.” These small adjustments make a big difference in the amount of energy I’m expending all day long.

Learning all this goodness about my autistic brain helps me understand why being alone feels so good. I don’t have to fix my face or think of the correct thing to say or mimic the tone of their voice or wear uncomfortable clothes or downplay my special interests.

It’s wild to see how unconscious this all has been for decades. High maskers often don’t know they’re putting this much effort into communication. It’s quite a journey to pull these threads and see what’s underneath.

The other day, I asked GhatGPT to describe how autistic people code switch. The answer felt significant enough to share with my generous-hearted readers. May this help you know the deep work your autistic friends are likely engaging at some level.

Autistic people often engage in a form of code-switching called "masking" or "camouflaging," which involves adjusting their behavior, communication style, and body language to fit neurotypical social norms. This can be conscious or unconscious and varies depending on the situation, social expectations, and past experiences.

Ways Autistic People Code-Switch:

Mimicking Social Norms – Adjusting tone of voice, facial expressions, or gestures to appear more "natural" in a given social setting.
Suppressing Natural Traits – Avoiding stimming (e.g., fidgeting, rocking) or scripting responses to sound more "typical."
Changing Communication Style – Using more or less direct language, forcing eye contact, or adapting humor to fit the group.
Adopting Different Interests Publicly – Talking about socially acceptable topics instead of personal special interests.
Mirroring Others – Copying speech patterns, slang, or mannerisms to blend in.
Strategic Emotional Expression – Displaying expected emotional reactions even if they don’t align with internal feelings.

Why It Happens:

To avoid social exclusion or bullying
To navigate professional settings successfully
To ease social interactions and prevent misunderstandings
To reduce unwanted attention or judgment

The Cost of Code-Switching:

Mental and emotional exhaustion from constant self-monitoring
Loss of authenticity and struggles with self-identity
Increased anxiety and burnout from suppressing natural behaviors
Difficulty in relationships when masking becomes an expectation

Some autistic people eventually unlearn masking in safe environments, embracing their natural way of being while still adapting as needed in specific situations. Others find a balance between authenticity and strategic adaptation.1

i don’t recognize
my voice anymore
it resonates
differently in
my brain
it’s a bit flat
straightforward
without it’s
usual sing song
rhythm
as i actively
unmask and
meet the me
whose been
hiding behind
hyper vigilance
and fawning
she sounds different
and i’m learning
to make peace
with her too