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In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.”

— Albert Camus, “Return to Tipasa”

Autistic Clarity in Dating: One Minute Version

I used to think “clarity” was just a preference. Like pineapple on pizza. Like texting vs calls. Like labels vs “labels are cringe.”


But for a lot of autistic people (hi), clarity isn’t a style. It’s not “being intense.” It’s not “overthinking.” It’s safety equipment.


Most people aren’t trying to harm us. They’re doing what culture teaches: keep it light, keep it vague, keep options open. But what feels “polite” in one nervous system can feel like a trap in another—and autistic people get caught in that trap a lot, because we tend to take people at their word. We hear “maybe” and think it’s a door, not a shrug.


Here’s the hidden rule that breaks hearts: you’re allowed to take what you want from someone as long as you never explicitly promised anything. You can build closeness, then vanish into “I’m busy,” “I’m not ready,” “you misread it,” “you’re too intense.” And culturally we call that normal.


Sometimes it’s accidental. Sometimes it’s not. Either way, the nervous system doesn’t speak in “technically they never promised…” It speaks in: you were here, then you were gone, and I don’t know why.


Clarity isn’t control. It’s informed consent with emotions. It also protects you: less drama, less guilt, less damage control.


So here’s the ask: say it plainly. “I only want casual.” “I’m not emotionally available.” “If you attach easily, I’m not a safe fit.”


And if you’re autistic: ask for the lane early, define “casual,” believe patterns over promises, and remember—if it’s unclear, it’s unsafe for your heart.

 
 
© M. Bennett Photography

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