Autism, ADHD, and the Workplace Glass Box
April is Autism Awareness Month, and I find myself thinking a lot about what awareness really means—especially in the places where we spend so much of our time: the workplace.
Being autistic and ADHD in professional spaces often feels like speaking a different language entirely. My mind is rooted in logic and fairness. I care deeply about doing things right—not just the how, but the why. And yet, that doesn’t seem to be the language most workplaces operate in.
It’s not about skill or dedication. It’s about who fits in. Who makes the right kind of small talk. Who knows how to read the invisible cues. It’s a popularity contest, and if you don't play the game, you're left on the outside—no matter how hard you work.
I’ve been told I’m the best of the best at what I do. That no one else has my level of skill, passion, or understanding of the job. And then, in the next breath, I’m told that my people skills are causing problems. That I need to "work on that." That the way I communicate, the way I exist, is somehow an issue.
It’s soul-crushing to pour everything into improving, to mask so intensely you lose sight of where the real “you” even is… only to hear it’s still not enough. I broke down in tears after being told I needed to do better at something I’d been trying so hard to improve. Because I truly believed I had been better. I believed the work was showing.
High-masking, high-functioning—those labels don’t mean we’re doing fine. They just mean we’ve gotten really good at hiding the cracks until we shatter.
I can’t help but wonder what my life might have looked like if I’d known earlier. If I’d had the language, the support, the understanding. If I hadn’t spent so much time thinking something was wrong with me.
Sometimes it feels like I’m in a glass box—watching everyone else interact, connect, belong—while I press my hands to the walls, just trying to feel welcome. I give everything I have, and yet I’m still on the outside because of things I can’t control.
It's not just frustrating. It's exhausting. Physically, emotionally, completely.
So if you’ve ever felt that too—like you’re navigating a system that wasn’t designed with you in mind—I see you. Awareness is the first step, but it can’t stop there. Real change starts with acceptance, with compassion, and with space for all minds to be seen and valued.