When my daughter was first diagnosed with autism, I remember feeling like I had entered a whole new world of terms, therapies, and challenges. One concept that took me the longest to understand—but ended up being the most important—was masking. Maybe you’ve heard this term thrown around in parent groups or therapy sessions, but aren’t quite sure what it means or why it matters so much, especially for our daughters.
I’m Michelle, and just like you, I’m a parent navigating this journey. Today, I want to have an honest conversation about masking with autism, particularly how it shows up in girls, and how it intersects with Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA). I’ve learned so much from my own experiences with my daughter, and I hope sharing what I’ve discovered might help illuminate your path a little too.
Think of masking as wearing a social costume. It’s when children with autism and PDA hide their natural behaviors and feelings to fit in with their peers. They study others and practice behaving in ways that seem “normal” to avoid standing out or being judged.
For my daughter, this looked like perfectly polite behavior at school, followed by complete emotional meltdowns the moment she got into the car with me. She was holding it all together all day long, and then—when she felt safe—she couldn’t anymore.
I remember one of our therapists explaining that masking is like “performing being a neurotypical person.” It’s exhausting work that requires constant attention and energy.
I’ve noticed through parent groups and my own experience that girls with autism are more likely to mask their symptoms than boys. This isn’t because autism is inherently different in girls—it’s because our society has different expectations for girls’ social behavior.
My friend Sarah’s son with autism would have meltdowns in class, refuse to participate in group activities, and was diagnosed by age 4. My friend’s daughter, on the other hand, was the “perfect student” who teachers described as “just shy” or “a little anxious.” Her diagnosis didn’t come until she was 10, despite showing signs much earlier.
Why does this happen? From an early age, girls face intense pressure to be socially successful. They’re expected to be nurturing, emotionally intelligent, and cooperative. These expectations create a powerful motivation for girls with autism to hide their struggles.
As one autism specialist explained to me: “Girls are expected to be social beings, and the punishment for failing to meet that expectation is much harsher for them.”
When a child has both autism and Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA), masking takes on another dimension entirely. PDA involves an anxiety-driven need to avoid demands and expectations—but paradoxically, the social demand to “act normal” can be so overwhelming that children with PDA may put enormous effort into masking.
My daughter’s PDA traits meant she found everyday requests unbearable—getting dressed, brushing teeth, doing homework—but the unspoken demand to fit in socially was somehow even more powerful. She would use all her energy to appear “typical” at school, leaving nothing in the tank for those basic daily tasks at home.
Our family therapist helped me understand that this combination creates a particularly vulnerable situation: “These children are using all their resources to maintain a facade, while inside they’re experiencing intense anxiety about the demands being placed on them.”
Recognizing masking can be tricky precisely because it’s designed to hide difficulties. Here are some signs I noticed with my daughter:
One evening, I found my daughter practicing facial expressions in the mirror. When I asked what she was doing, she said, “I’m learning how to look interested when people talk about boring things.” My heart broke a little, realizing how hard she was working just to have conversations that came naturally to her peers.
While masking might seem helpful in the short term—after all, isn’t fitting in what we all want for our children?—I’ve learned through our journey that it comes with serious long-term costs.
Many parents in our support group have shared that masking is strongly associated with mental health challenges, including:
Our family therapist explained, “The psychological cost of masking is often invisible until it reaches a crisis point.” This was certainly true for us. My daughter seemed to be “managing well” until middle school, when she developed severe anxiety and started refusing school altogether.
The mental energy required for masking with autism means there’s less available for learning, developing authentic relationships, and simply enjoying childhood. It’s like running a marathon every single day.
For children with both autism and PDA, masking becomes even more complex. The PDA profile includes:
The demand avoidance itself can be masked in clever ways. My daughter became the “class clown,” using humor to deflect when she was asked to do something difficult. Her teachers saw a funny, creative child—not realizing this was her strategy for avoiding tasks that caused her anxiety.
From what I’ve learned in parent workshops, children with PDA often use “socially strategic” avoidance rather than direct refusal. This makes their challenges even harder to identify, especially in girls who are already masking their autism traits.
Learning to reduce masking—what many autistic adults call “unmasking”—is a journey that looks different for every child. Here’s what helped in our family:
My daughter needed to know home was where she could be completely herself. We established “no masking zones” where she could stim, avoid eye contact, or just be quiet without worrying about social expectations.
Simply acknowledging how hard she was working made a difference. “I notice you’re working really hard to make conversation at family gatherings. That takes a lot of energy, doesn’t it?”
After school or social events, we scheduled downtime for her to decompress. Sometimes this meant declining playdates or leaving family gatherings early.
For children with PDA, reducing demands in other areas can free up energy. We used PDA-friendly approaches like offering choices, using indirect language, and turning tasks into games.
Our family therapist’s perspective helped us see that my daughter wasn’t being difficult—she was doing the best she could with the challenges she faced.
Finding other parents of children with autism and PDA—especially girls—was invaluable. Nobody gets it quite like someone walking a similar path.
The goal isn’t to eliminate all masking—some level of adapting our behavior for different situations is part of human interaction. Rather, the aim is to reduce harmful masking that leads to exhaustion and loss of identity.
One mom in our support group described this beautifully: “We’re not trying to stop our children from functioning in the world; we’re trying to help them function in ways that don’t require them to abandon themselves.”
For my daughter, this has meant gradually finding her authentic voice. She still makes an effort in certain social situations, but she’s learning when she can relax and just be herself. We celebrate her unique perspective rather than trying to hide it.
Parenting a child with autism and PDA is both challenging and rewarding. If you’re looking for more practical strategies and insights, I’ve compiled extensive research and personal experience in my book, “A Practical Parent’s Guide to PDA and Autism.” This resource provides concrete approaches tailored specifically to parents and caregivers of children who experience both autism and PDA.
As a parent juggling therapy appointments, IEP meetings, and the daily challenges of raising a child with PDA, I know you barely have time to sit down, let alone read a book. That’s exactly why I’ve made “A Practical Parent’s Guide to PDA and Autism” available as an audiobook you can listen to during school drop-offs, while making dinner, or during those precious few minutes alone in the car. Transform your “lost time” into learning time by grabbing the audiobook here: US, UK, Australia, Canada, France, and Germany.
I wrote this book because I needed it myself and couldn’t find anything like it. It offers practical, parent-to-parent advice based on both research and my own real-life experience raising a child with PDA, with specific chapters dedicated to understanding and preventing burnout. The strategies I share have helped thousands of families reduce stress and build more harmonious relationships with their neurodivergent children. As parents walking this path, we need real solutions from someone who truly understands—not just theory, but practical approaches that work in everyday life with our wonderful, complex children.
I’d love to hear your experiences. Have you noticed signs of masking in your child with autism and PDA? What strategies have helped your family navigate this challenge? What questions do you have about supporting your child’s authentic self while helping them navigate social expectations?
Share your thoughts in the comments below—your insight might be exactly what another parent needs to hear today.
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