# 37 - Advocating for Yourself Isn’t Confrontation, It’s Self-Respect

Today’s episode is about something many autistic and AuDHD individuals struggle with deeply, especially those who were socialized to be accommodating, agreeable, easygoing, high masking, people pleasing, or hyper-independent.

We’re talking about self-advocacy.

And more specifically, we’re talking about this idea that advocating for yourself isn’t about being confrontational, it’s about respecting yourself enough to say what needs to be said, even when it’s uncomfortable.

Please note that every autistic and AuDHD experience is unique and what we talk about today may or may not fit each individual.

Transcript

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Hello and welcome back to Quietly Autistic at Last, the podcast where we explore late-diagnosed autism, all DHD experiences, masking, nervous system healing, authenticity, and what it means to finally come home to yourself after years of trying to survive in environments that misunderstood you. I'm your host, Dr. Allison Sukamelli, and today's episode is about something many autistic and all DHD individuals struggle with deeply, especially those who were socialized to be accommodating, agreeable, easygoing, high masking, people pleasing, or hyper-independent. We're talking about self-advocacy. And more specifically, we're talking about this idea that advocating for yourself isn't about being confrontational. It's about respecting yourself enough to say what needs to be said, even when it's uncomfortable. So please note that every autistic and Audd experience is unique, and what we talk about today may or may not fit each individual. It's also important to note that if you are neurotypical, autism does not look the same from the outside either, and it can be very damaging to tell someone things like, oh, you're not autistic, or you don't look or act like my friend's kid, or we're all a little autistic. That is dismissive and clearly misunderstood, especially when the person sharing their diagnosis trusted you enough to share and be open and be vulnerable. Sometimes it makes you feel like you want to crawl back into bed and never come out into the world that constantly misunderstands you. This is why. Don't be somebody's why for that. And this ties into today's topic and the importance of understanding that for many autistic people, especially late-identified women and marginalized individuals, self-advocacy can feel terrifying, not just uncomfortable, but terrifying. Because for years, sometimes decades, advocating for yourself may have led to rejection, ridicule, punishment, conflict, shutdowns, meltdowns, being labeled dramatic, being called too sensitive, or being treated like your needs were somehow inconvenient. So eventually, many autistic people learn something dangerous. We begin to think things like, maybe it's safer if I just stay quiet. My personal experience is that this has been hit or miss with people. Some people are truly empathetic, understanding, and supportive, while others are dismissive and made me wish I never opened my mouth regarding my diagnosis in the first place. But silence has a cost, and over time that cost can become your mental health, your identity, your physical well-being, your relationships, and your nervous system itself. So today we're going to talk about why self-advocacy feels so hard, the psychology behind conflict avoidance, masking and people pleasing, why many autistic individuals are chronically misunderstood, the nervous system impact of suppressing your needs, and what healthy self-advocacy actually looks like. Because advocating for yourself is not aggression, it is not selfishness, it is not being difficult, but sometimes it is survival. So why does self-advocacy feel so hard for autistic people? Well, many of us grow up learning that our natural needs create friction with the world around us. Maybe, for instance, you needed more quiet, more processing time, direct communication, predictability, honesty, that's a big one for me, recovery time, less sensory overwhelm, or emotional clarity. But instead of those needs being understood, they were often pathologized. You may have heard things like, you're overreacting, stop being dramatic, you need to toughen up, why are you making this such a big deal? Everyone else can handle it, so why can't you? You're too emotional, you're too sensitive, or you're too intense. And over time, many autistic individuals internalize the belief that their discomfort is the problem instead of recognizing that their nervous system is responding to real overwhelm. And often at times, others will accuse us of imagining these things, if only, right? And this disbelief in our experience, this dismissal of our suffering creates something important psychologically. A disconnect from self-trust. You stop asking yourself, what do I need? and start asking, what will make me easiest to tolerate? And I find that question to be really upsetting. That is not self-advocacy, that is survival adaptation. And many people become incredibly skilled at it, especially high-masking autistic individuals, especially women, especially educators, caregivers, helpers, therapists, nurses, mothers, and people conditioned to prioritize harmony over honesty. And this no longer makes sense to me, and it shouldn't make sense to you either, regardless of what side of the equation you are on. You become the peacekeeper, the easy-going one, well, at least on the outside, or the low maintenance one, or the one who says it's fine when really it's not, and even when your nervous system is screaming. So let's take a moment to get into the psychology of people pleasing. People pleasing is often misunderstood as kindness, but psychologically, chronic people pleasing is usually rooted in fear. The fear of abandonment, the fear of conflict, the fear of rejection, the fear of humiliation, the fear of punishment, the fear of disconnection, or the fear of being perceived negatively. And for autistic people, this fear is often intensified because many of us have experienced repeated social ruptures throughout life. Maybe you were misunderstood constantly. Maybe people reacted strongly to your tone even when you meant no harm. Maybe you were bullied, maybe you were excluded, maybe you learned early that honesty upset people. So eventually you start shaping yourself around what feels safest socially and what makes other people feel comfortable while you're left out in the cold. You monitor facial expressions, tone, body language, energy shifts, pauses, and change in behavior. And many autistic individuals become hyper-vigilant, not because they are manipulative, but because they are trying to avoid social danger. And when you live in that state long enough, self-advocacy starts to feel unsafe. Even saying something simple like, I'm overwhelmed, can feel terrifying. Not because the statement is wrong, but because your nervous system remembers what happened the last time you spoke up. And that is so damaging. Now let's talk about masking and the loss of self. I know masking comes up a lot in these episodes, but here's why. Masking is not just pretending to fit in. Masking is often the gradual erosion of authentic self-expression in exchange for social survival. And one of the biggest casualties of masking is self-advocacy, because when you are constantly monitoring other people's comfort, you stop noticing your own limits and boundaries. You override yourself repeatedly. You say yes when you mean no. You tolerate environments that dysregulate you. Ugh, I can think of a few examples for myself. And you stay quiet during conversations that hurt you. You minimize your exhaustion. You explain away mistreatment. You force eye contact, you force social energy, you force smiling, and you force functioning. And eventually, many autistic individuals reach burnout. And if you remember the previous episode on autistic burnout, it can be vastly different from simple run-of-the-mill burnout. And that's not to discredit burnout at all. Burnout is burnout and is so harmful. But autistic burnout may feel different and sometimes runs deeper for different reasons. And again, this is a case-by-case and may not feel or appear the same for everyone experiencing it, and each experience is real and valid. But the body eventually says, I cannot keep abandoning myself to keep everyone else comfortable. Autistic burnout is not laziness. That label gets put on us often. And me personally, I'm probably one of the grittiest, hardworking people you will ever meet. So that label is infuriating to me. Nor is autistic burnout weakness. Instead, it is often the accumulated cost of chronic self-suppression. The nervous system was never designed to remain in survival mode forever. So why does advocating for yourself get misread? This is another painful reality for many autistic people. Sometimes when we finally do advocate for ourselves, people react negatively because they were benefiting from our silence. That can be deeply disorienting. And especially if you spent years trying to be accommodating. Sometimes the moment you begin setting boundaries, people say things like, you've changed, you're difficult now, you're overthinking, you're too sensitive, why are you making this a problem? But often, what they actually mean is I was more comfortable when you ignored your own needs. And this is where many autistic individuals begin questioning themselves again. It's like a cycle, right? They start to ask, am I being unreasonable? Am I overreacting? Am I too much? But healthy self-advocacy is not cruelty to anyone or being defiant. It's clarity. And clarity can feel uncomfortable to people who are used to blurred boundaries. They may even hear and understand your boundary for whatever it is, but repeatedly cross it because they know the chances of you upholding it are slim to none. And I'll say it again: self-advocacy is not aggression. This part matters deeply. Many autistic individuals fear that advocating for themselves automatically means conflict, but self-advocacy does not require aggression. It simply requires honesty. And some examples of healthy self-advocacy include saying things like, I need more processing time, that environment is overstimulating for me. I communicate better directly. I need clarification. I need consistency. I need to step away. I cannot commit to that right now. And these are not attacks, they are information. But many autistic people were conditioned to believe that having needs itself is burdensome. And sometimes, at least in my experience, you can feel that energy in the room. And recovery from overstimulation or autistic burnout recovery often involves learning that your needs are not failures of any kind. Your nervous system is not a character flaw, but suppressing your needs does not eliminate stress. It internalizes it and the body keeps score. And many autistic individuals experience chronic fatigue, anxiety, shutdowns, migraines, digestive issues, insomnia, muscle tension, emotional numbness, dissociation, or burnout cycles. And because the nervous system is constantly working to maintain social safety while suppressing authentic responses, imagine holding your breath emotionally for years. That is what chronic masking and self-silencing can feel like. And eventually the body says, I cannot keep carrying this. And sometimes self-advocacy is not about winning an argument. Sometimes it is about preventing your nervous system from collapsing under the weight of chronic self-abandonment. So why do, especially late diagnosed autistic women, struggle with this so much? And many late diagnosed autistic women were heavily rewarded throughout their lives for being agreeable, accommodating, nurturing, emotionally available, flexible, self-sacrificing, and easy to manage. So when they begin unmasking and advocating for themselves, it can feel profoundly destabilizing, not only internally, but relationally, because people often become accustomed to the masked version of you, the version that tolerated everything, the version that absorbed discomfort quietly, the version that overextended endlessly. And when you stop doing that, some relationships shift. And that can feel heartbreaking, but voicing your needs in terms of sustainable functioning sometimes reveals which relationships were built around mutual respect and which were built around access to your silence. And one of the hardest parts of learning self-advocacy is grieving how often you were not protected. And this realization does hit hard, especially when you think about how often you minimized yourself, how often you ignored your own instincts, and were sometimes shamed for trying to honor your authentic needs. And many autistic adults look back and realize I knew something felt wrong. I knew I was overwhelmed. I knew I needed support. And often we didn't know how or why, but survival required disconnecting from those signals. And now, well, reconnecting with yourself can feel emotional, at times confusing. It can bring on the tears, often unexpected tears, and not in a woe is me sort of way, but when understanding yourself, maybe for the first time fully and wholeheartedly, without restrictions, without masking, and with a feeling of liberation, because now you begin noticing exhaustion sooner, sensory overload sooner, emotional discomfort sooner, boundary violations sooner, and relational imbalance sooner. That awareness is not regression, it is reconnection, and you are finally hearing yourself. So, what does healthy self-advocacy actually look like? Well, healthy self-advocacy is not about controlling others, it is about communicating your reality honestly. And sometimes it sounds very simple. I need a quieter environment, I need to leave early, I communicate differently, I need directness, I need rest, I need space, or I cannot do this today. And you do not need a courtroom-level defense for your humanity. You do not need to earn basic respect through exhaustion. And you do not have to wait until total autistic burnout to acknowledge your limits. Sometimes self-advocacy also means asking for accommodations, declining invitations, ending unhealthy dynamics, resting without guilt, correcting misunderstandings, or letting people be disappointed without abandoning yourself to fix it. And that last one may be hard for some of us because many autistic people become chronic emotional managers, trying to stabilize everyone around them. But proper self-care and energy management includes realizing other people's discomfort, it's not always evident that you did something wrong. And there is a difference between kindness and disappearing. You can be compassionate without abandoning yourself, you can be considerate without silencing yourself, and you can care deeply about others while also respecting your own nervous system. Self-advocacy is not the opposite of empathy. In fact, healthy self-advocacy often creates more authentic relationships because people are interacting with the real you instead of the permanently overextended, masked version. And yes, as we talked about before, some people may resist that shift, but others will finally understand you more clearly, and perhaps more importantly, you will understand yourself more clearly. So if advocating for yourself feels terrifying, there is probably a reason. Your nervous system learned that silence kept you safe. So please approach yourself gently. You do not have to become confrontational or aggressive. Self-advocacy can begin very quietly. It can begin with noticing your discomfort, naming your needs privately, resting before collapse, saying, I need to think about it before instantly agreeing or accepting an invitation, or allowing yourself to disagree internally before expressing it externally. Small moments matter. Nervous system care and autistic burnout prevention is often built in tiny acts of self-respect repeated consistently over time. Okay, so there you have it. Thank you so much for being here with me today on the Quietly Autistic at Last podcast. If this episode resonated with you, I hope it reminded you of something important. Advocating for yourself does not make you difficult. Having needs does not make you selfish. Wanting clarity does not make you confrontational. And respecting your nervous system is not weakness. Sometimes self-advocacy is simply the moment you stop treating yourself like someone whose comfort matters least. You deserve to exist without constantly shrinking yourself for the convenience of others. You deserve relationships where honesty is safe. You deserve environments where your needs are not treated like inconveniences. And you deserve to hear your own voice without fear. If this episode spoke to you, feel free to share it with someone who may need it too. And as always, this is Dr. Allison Sukamelli. Remember, your pace is perfect. And until next time, take care of yourself, and I will see you next week.