For a long time, I navigated my career by comparing myself to everyone around me. I felt the pressure to climb corporate ladders, apply for high-paying roles, and keep up with standard career milestones.
But over time, and especially after receiving my autism diagnosis, I realized that pushing myself into environments designed for neurotypical norms was leading straight to burnout.
Understanding my diagnosis completely switched things up for me. It gave me permission to stop forcing myself into ill-fitting boxes, learn my limits, and start building a working life that actually aligns with my values, energy, and passions.
Here is what navigating work life as an autistic adult has really looked like for me, the lessons I’ve learned along the way, and how I finally found a path that works.
Job Hunting and Interview Hurdles
Even before getting a job, the hiring process itself presents a massive barrier.
I used to never apply for a job unless I met 100% of the person specification. It simply never occurred to me that people routinely apply for roles when they only meet a fraction of the requirements!
Looking back, I probably missed out on many opportunities because I assumed I had to be a “perfect match” on paper.
Face-to-face interviews have always caused me immense anxiety. The intense, high-pressure interaction forces me to mask heavily.
The problem is, masking takes so much cognitive effort that I’m no longer fully present in the interview itself. I’m so busy monitoring my body language, eye contact, and tone that I am distracted.
I also need time to process unexpected interview questions, but because I was unaware that I could ask for this accommodation (due to not realizing I was autistic!), I felt forced to answer straight away, meaning I could not fully communicate my responses to the best of my ability.
For a long time, I could land interviews, but I rarely progressed past them. I often walked away feeling like I hadn’t made a good impression, or that the interviewers found something subtly “unsettling” about me.
Trial, Error, and Burnout in the Workplace
Once in a job, sensory sensitivities, social demands, and executive functioning challenges often took a heavy toll.
Early on, I took a job in fast food, but I had to quit after just a couple of weeks. The combination of intense sensory overload, complex executive dysfunction under pressure, and a heightened sensitivity to criticism (being yelled at by hungry customers!) made the environment completely unviable for me.
In standard workplace environments, I felt constant pressure to present as overtly sociable so I wouldn’t come across as unlikable or aloof to coworkers and management. Forcing that social persona meant I would come home every single day completely wiped out.
I once held a senior role that required being on call. Every time the phone rang, panic set in. I knew I was expected to solve a problem on the spot, but my brain needs time to process information before coming up with a solution.
Back then, I felt pressured to have an immediate answer, often feeling forced to admit I didn’t know what to do. Today, I realize a simple boundary—“Can I process this and call you back in a few minutes?”—would have made a world of difference.
I eventually reached a point in this position where the responsibilities, constant social demands, and requirement for split-second problem-solving became too exhausting.
I made the conscious decision to demote myself. It was a choice to prioritize my well-being over a more “desirable” title.
The Cost of an Uninclusive World
I do feel that being autistic has, in some ways, held me back financially and professionally.
Because I’m not as confident in traditional social and communication dynamics, and because so many workplaces fail to be genuinely inclusive of neurodivergent people, I’ve missed out on higher salaries or competitive promotions.
Sales roles, for instance, never appealed to me – trying to convince people to buy things they don’t want feels inherently manipulative to me. High-competition, high-persuasion roles just don’t align with my values or energy either.
Without my diagnosis, I likely would have kept blindly pushing myself to achieve the things people my age “should” be doing, suffering through jobs I actively disliked just to keep up.
Leaning Into Passions and Creating My Own Structure
Receiving my diagnosis allowed me to redefine what success looks like for me. What is the point of forcing myself into a job I dislike just for status?
I realized I needed to lean into my passions, even if it meant earning less or stepping off the traditional career track.
A position where I could research and spend a lot of time writing works for me. I am now a writer and content creator for this website and I am doing my PhD, specialising in autism research!
These positions fit my lifestyle, energy levels, and needs in ways traditional jobs never could:
- Working from Home: I can mostly work in an environment where I feel safe, comfortable, and free to unmask.
- Sensory and Physical Comfort: I can wear what I want and control my environment.
- Flexible Schedules: On days when my motivation or energy is low, I have the flexibility to adjust. I get to build my own timetable and structure that works with my brain, not against it.
While there are definitely challenges in these positions and I do not know where I will be once my PhD is finished, this is a situation that works well for my brain for now!
Moving at My Own Pace
Sometimes, I still catch myself feeling like I’m “lagging behind” my peers. But I have to remind myself that everyone approaches their career at their own pace.
Getting diagnosed gave me the clarity to advocate for myself, set realistic boundaries, and honor my limits.
By stepping away from neurotypical expectations and leaning into what I genuinely love, I stopped feeling lost, and finally found a way to thrive on my own terms.
