The Autistic Coach | Matthew (he/they)

From the outside it looks like a binge.

From the inside it’s often a body trying to survive chronic overwhelm.

A lot of autistic people aren’t struggling with willpower.

We’re struggling with Autistic Burnout.

Yet it's not being seen by those who support us.

Shame ensues.

You forget to eat all day.

Then suddenly your body is starving.

Or you’re so dysregulated that food becomes the fastest way to ground your nervous system.

Sugar, salt, texture, fullness.

Instant regulation.

Autistic burnout and binge eating are often connected.

But not for the reasons people assume.

It’s not always about “self-control.”

It’s about a nervous system that has been pushed past capacity.

When you’re burned out you interoception gets less pronounced - your regulation goes out the window.

Most participants are in the U.S. and the schedule revolves around U.S. participants.

Lateral ableism is a huge problem - almost as big as ableism from non-disabled folx

Some autistic people cannot mask.

Some lose the ability to mask over time.

Some pay catastrophic costs when they try.

Masking is not a measure of intelligence, effort, morality, or character.

It’s not a subtype of autism.

It’s not fun.

It’s a survival response to pressure.

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A real autistic community makes room for the autistic people who cannot produce.

Cannot mask.

Cannot perform.

Cannot keep up.

Because dignity and voice shouldn’t need to be earned through productivity.

And belonging shouldn’t depend on passing as yet a new “autistic normal”.

It must also be shaped by the autistic people whose needs are the most visible.

The most “inconvenient.”

The most unsupported.

If our movement only centres autistic people who can keep up with the pace of capitalism then it isn’t liberation - it’s assimilation.

A sanitised masking.

Then all we’re doing is simply recreating the same ableist hierarchy we claim to resist.

Autistic liberation cannot be built only by the autistic people who have the most capacity to speak.

This is another form of internalised ableism.

A quieter one.

Because it hides behind language about empowerment and representation.

But if the only autistic voices we elevate are the ones who can perform stability, coherence, and constant output.

The result is a distorted picture of autism.

One where the most visible autistic narratives emphasise productivity, self-optimization, and personal insight.

And where disability itself slowly disappears from the conversation.

Unless it’s a watered down disability that makes things more pleasant.

Those voices rarely dominate social media or the media in general.

They rarely lead advocacy or political organisations.

They rarely become the public face of autism discourse.

They dont get publishing deals.

Not because they lack insight.

But because the structures themselves filter them out.

The autistic people who cannot produce daily content.

Those who cannot maintain public presence.

Those who cannot mask.

Those who were identified early because their needs were visible.

Those who require significant support just to move through the day.

When leadership and visibility come mostly from the autistic people with the most resources, the most energy, and the most ability to function inside dominant systems the experiences of autistic people with higher support needs fade from view.

None of that makes their experiences invalid.

They’re autistic and disabled too.

But it does shape what and WHO gets centred.

And what and WHO disappears.

Very often, these are autistic people who describe themselves as “high masking”.

People who can move through neurotypical environments with relative fluency.

People who can remain productive even while discussing burnout.

People who may not experience autism primarily as disability.

Those with fancy degrees.

Those with financial privilege.

Those with energy privilege.

Even in autistic disabled spaces, there are those who benefit from more of it than others.

They replicate the same class and race power dynamics from the NT world we are trying to change.

The same pattern appears inside many autistic advocacy spaces and political groups.

Leadership gravitates toward those who have the most stamina.

The most professional polish.

The ability to network.

The ability to show up repeatedly.

The ability to speak in ways institutions find comfortable.

Not to mention that those with the most power, the most reach, the most access are almost always white cishet people.

And if not, those who are willing to coddle them the most.

The autistic people with the most visibility are often those with the lowest support needs.

Those who can sustain daily output.

Those who can maintain a constant online presence.

Those who can perform clarity, charisma, and confidence on camera.

Visibility isn’t the same thing as representation.

It also requires us not to name truth.

To be legible and pleasant for others.

TO MASK.

Simply to switch the NT mask for an autistic one.

What kind of messaging is that?

And those who watch - if they don’t fit, they feel like failures.

It reproduces the horrible system we try to escape.

They always need to be positive - even if discussing a difficult subject or something that’s very hard, it must always have a positive spin.

Otherwise they’re shut up.

But producing that kind of content requires something most of us simply don’t have.

Energy.

Consistency.

Executive bandwidth.

And this dynamic shapes who gets heard.

The autistic voices most visible online are often the ones who can produce content constantly.

Day after day.

Reel after reel.

Heavily scripted.

Highly produced.

Algorithm-friendly.

Shareable.

Feel-good.

Internalised ableism tells us something else.

It tells us that the people who can mask are “better representatives” for autistic humans.

More respectable.

More employable.

More acceptable.

More worthy of belonging.

They have “ a serious voice.”

Speak with the “right” tone.

Some autistic people cannot mask.

Some lose the ability to mask over time.

Some pay catastrophic costs when they try.

Masking is not a measure of intelligence, effort, morality, or character.

It’s not a subtype of autism.

It’s not fun.

It’s a survival response to pressure.

Suddenly we begin to hear

“They’re not trying.”

“They’re using autism as an excuse.”

“They’re making us look bad.”

“They’re the reason people think autistics are difficult.”

This is lateral ableism.

It’s ableism moving sideways inside our own community.

That belief creates a quiet hierarchy.

Major power in our community.

And it gets wielded.

“I worked hard to learn these skills.”

“I pushed myself.”

“I figured it out.”

So when we encounter autistic people who can’t mask the same way…the discomfort and lack of understanding starts.

Masking can be a survival strategy.

But when a masked autistic person becomes socially accepted because they mask, something dangerous can happen.

Acceptance becomes conditional.

And we begin to believe that acceptance was earned.