
To many autistic adults, relationships are deeply fascinating and phenomenally complicated. The concept of having someone who really gets you—someone who picks you—can feel like the ultimate human sense of belonging. Not surprisingly, to some, relationships become a lifelong special interest, probed with the same intrigue and commitment as any other fascination.

Here’s the harsh reality, though: most relationship advice just isn’t relevant to the autistic experience. The books, blogs, and advice columns have a neurotypical approach to dating and relating to one another that usually doesn’t travel well.

There is still a toxic myth circulating that autistic individuals don’t want to be in love or can’t have meaningful relationships. Most of the advice available appears to be directed at assisting neurotypical partners “managing” or “fixing” their autistic partners, instead of assisting autistic people in forging relationships that work for them.

It usually takes time—along with plenty of trial and error—to know that healthy relationships do not have to play by the book. In reality, numerous autistic grown-ups experience higher pleasure and stability in relationship modes that go outside traditional expectations.

That may mean living apart in individual homes, prioritizing intense platonic relationships, embracing romantic relationships without sex, or even being poly. These decisions aren’t about boycotting love—they’re about crafting relationships on actual needs and lived experience, rather than forcing into an archaic stereotype.

One of the strongest changes is in permitting yourself to ask for what you require—even if it’s not what’s viewed as “normal.” There is no neurodiverse love rulebook. You’re not needy if you call first. You’re not a bad partner if you require more solitude.

What’s important is open, honest communication: what makes you feel safe, what feels overwhelming, and what type of support enables you to show up as your best self. That sometimes involves asking for accommodations directly related to your disabilities, and embracing that not every dynamic will be the right one.

Communication in autistic relationships may look unconventional, but that doesn’t mean it is broken. Autistic individuals don’t have poor communication skills—they simply use distinct styles. Old nuggets of advice, such as “talk it out” or “read between the lines,” might sound bewildering or draining. Instead, a lot of neurodiverse couples develop their systems. Perhaps they write notes to work through conflict, non-verbal cues to express love, or have tough conversations methodically and concisely. What’s most important is that it works for both individuals, even if it doesn’t appear normal from the outside.

Falling in love as an autistic individual can be a lot akin to finding a new special interest. There is passion, intensity, and a mental immersion that can be both invigorating and exhausting. That level of intensity may perhaps be overwhelming to neurotypicals, but for many autistic individuals, it is a familiar and normal experience.

And when that spark cools into something more lasting, the dedication is usually solid as a rock, though that same passion makes it hard to leave behind relationships that don’t feel safe or supportive anymore.

Learning to love—and be loved—as an autistic adult is a deeply personal, ongoing process. It means unlearning much of the ableist notion of how relationships are “supposed” to be and instead figuring out what feels good, fair, and right for you. These relationships may not be like what you see in Hollywood or self-help books, but they exist. They’re valid. And most of all, they’re yours.
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