My work persona.

What you describe is something everyone experiences to an extent. People naturally adapt to the situations they’re in and the expectations in those situations. Different people bring out different traits in you. It is common to adopt an “adult persona” or “work persona” in order to appear and remain professional.

Autistic people, on the other hand, may struggle to form a coherent sense of self in the first place. Self-esteem may be low due to feeling different, lack of social skills or rejection and we may lack an intuitive understanding of how to act in social situations. One way many autistic people deal with this is by learning the rules and mimicking what they see work in others. Without a stable sense of self or solid understanding of what they are doing, figuring out other people’s expectations and meeting them however possible can become the only way they may know how to interact with others.

As you correctly note, this is very exhausting. This goes way beyond the different personas a neurotypical person might employ. Hypothetically, the neurotypical would be able to drop the persona, be themselves and still know how to act. Their personas are used to add to their life in helpful ways - out of politeness, ease, convenience. For an autistic person, it is a survival mechanism. (And yes, this would be passing.)

Finding my work persona felt like a quest, like the truest test of whether I really knew myself or not. In comparison, my venture into college was nothing, because there, I could hide in my accomplishments. I could take the cheap, easy way out and just be high school me, but more (guess what that’s exactly what I did). Work, however, does not have the same freedom and forgiveness, and who you are is dictated by what you can achieve, starting from scratch. 

That scared me, as I’ve previously said. I entered unsure and shy and fearful of not succeeding like I’d taught myself I must. Joke’s on me, cause everything turned out fine. In hindsight, it isn’t anything too compelling and it certainly isn’t groundbreaking, but it was still a slight process(!) that wasn’t completely organic. 

1. I started small, both in task and stature. If I could do this menial task better and faster than any one else, that could be a win. If I could prove myself capable of handling this and more, that could be a win. And in the meantime, I’d be sweet, unassuming, sharp, but silent. 

2. That quickly got old. And, according to plan, I was allowed to do more cooler stuff. This was the initial ascent, still accompanied by easy obedience and strategic eagerness.

3. I promise I’m not crazy. This sounds masterfully drawn out, but I think I just tripped around and woke up somewhere lucky. More competency and efficiency led to more trust and more tasks. I had proven myself as a good, willing (emphasis on willing) worker, and with that came ease of behavior as well. When in an environment like work, capability should be the priority. This is something I just believe personally, so it only follows that I didn’t feel comfortable behaving as sarcastically and dryly as I typically am until I had cemented that bit down. 

4. The peak! Except it’s not really a peak because hopefully there’s no descent! Competency plus sociability have at long last been reunited, and there was celebration in all the land for such a joyous marriage. Real talk, the office space is now a loved space, and I am me with responsibility.

This could very likely be instinctual for others, but let me tell you I wrestled with this hella, especially on the day to day. I didn’t and don’t think it’s ok to be sassy and snarky and have casual conversation in the work space unless there is no doubt that the work is being done and done well. I knew I didn’t know how to do the work well before, so I didn’t think I deserved to act as casually as I am accustomed to. Being a good intern is easy- just don’t suck ass. Being a coworker is less so, but way more rewarding.