Who Am I, Anyway? Self-Concept, Masking, and Building a Self That Actually Fits
Most of us have probably had moments when we wondered:
Who am I, really?
Not your name. Not your job. Not your relationship status, diagnosis, or list of accomplishments.
Who are you?
What do you enjoy? What matters to you? What overwhelms you? What restores you? What do you need in order to function well? What are your strengths? What are your limitations? Which parts of yourself remain fairly consistent wherever you go and which parts change depending on who is in the room?
These questions are part of something psychologists call self-concept.
Self-concept develops throughout our lives. But for some neurodivergent people, particularly people who spend years or decades without recognizing that they are autistic or otherwise neurodivergent, developing an accurate picture of themselves can become especially complicated.
Not because autism prevents someone from knowing who they are, despite the early diagnostic descriptions. The problem may be that they have spent years trying to understand themselves while missing a central piece of information.
What Is Self-Concept?
Self-concept is the collection of beliefs and knowledge we have about ourselves.
It helps answer the question:
“Who am I?”
Your self-concept might include beliefs such as:
I am curious.
I am creative.
I am introverted.
I care deeply about fairness.
I need time alone to recover.
I struggle with transitions.
I am good at recognizing patterns.
I get overwhelmed when several people talk at once.
I love learning.
I have trouble starting tasks when I don't know where to begin.
I am a parent, partner, therapist, gamer, artist, friend, teacher, or countless other identities.
Notice that these statements don't necessarily tell us whether those things are good or bad.
They describe the person.
That is one important difference between self-concept and self-esteem.
Self-Concept Is Not the Same as Self-Esteem
The two terms are related, but they aren't interchangeable.
Self-concept asks:
Who am I?
Self-esteem asks:
How do I feel about the person I believe myself to be?
For example:
“I need more recovery time after social situations than many people do.”
That's information about yourself.
Now add:
“And that's ridiculous. I shouldn't need that.”
We've added evaluation.
Or consider:
“I am very detail-oriented.”
That's self-concept.
Whether you think that makes you wonderfully thorough or an insufferable pain in the butt involves evaluation.
You can therefore have reasonably good self-esteem while having an inaccurate understanding of yourself. You can also understand yourself quite accurately while being extremely critical of what you find.
Ideally, we're working toward something more useful:
An increasingly accurate understanding of ourselves combined with the ability to value ourselves without requiring perfection.
The Experienced Self and the Performed Self
Here's another useful way to think about identity.
We all have an experienced self and a performed self.
The experienced self is our internal experience:
what we feel
what we notice
what we prefer
what we value
what interests us
what overwhelms us
what we need
what feels comfortable or uncomfortable
what we want and don't want
The performed self is what we express to other people. Having a performed self is completely normal.
You probably don't behave exactly the same way with your boss as you do with your best friend. The version of me sitting with a therapy client is not identical to the version of me hanging out with friends or playing a video game. They are all authentically me, just limited views.
I usually don't explain the difference between need and want and why that is important to the cashier when she asks whether I found everything I needed. A brief yes or no thanks is sufficient to the situation.
Different situation. Different behavior. Same person.
Human beings constantly adjust our behavior according to context, relationships, culture, safety, social expectations and the roles we occupy. Think of it as changing gear for different encounters. The character hasn't changed anything except their loadout.
When the Distance Between the Two Selves Gets Too Large
Problems can develop when there is a substantial and persistent gap between:
Who I experience myself to be
and
Who I believe I need to appear to be.
Imagine repeatedly experiencing something internally while receiving external messages telling you that your experience is wrong.
You think:
“This room is unbearably loud.”
Someone responds:
“It's not that loud. Stop being dramatic.”
You experience:
“I don't understand what I'm supposed to do.”
You're told:
“You're smart. You know perfectly well what you're supposed to do.”
You think:
“I need to move.”
You're told:
“Sit still.”
You become overwhelmed and hear:
“You're too sensitive.”
You enthusiastically talk about something fascinating and discover that you've apparently violated an unwritten rule about how long humans are permitted to discuss roman concrete & sewer design, World of Warcraft mechanics, train schedules, frogs, or whatever subject currently has your brain held hostage.
Eventually, you learn. Don't do that!
This Happens to Everyone - But Neurodivergence Can Turn Up the Difficulty
Changing ourselves in response to social feedback is not uniquely autistic. Everyone learns how to behave partly by observing other people and noticing their reactions to us. This is an important part of human development.
But imagine having a nervous system that repeatedly produces experiences or behaviors that don't match what your environment expects and not knowing why.
Some autistic people learn to consciously modify, hide, compensate for, or suppress autistic characteristics in social situations. Researchers commonly describe these strategies using terms such as camouflaging and masking.
Systematic reviews of the research suggest that autistic camouflaging can include compensation, masking and assimilation and may be motivated by things such as avoiding negative reactions, protecting oneself, fitting in and wanting social connection. Research also suggests that camouflaging can have complicated consequences: it may sometimes help a person navigate social environments while also being associated with exhaustion, reduced well-being, identity difficulties and feeling overlooked or unsupported.
This is an important nuance.
Adaptation isn't inherently unhealthy.
Sometimes adapting our behavior is useful, intentional and completely consistent with who we are.
The question is whether adaptation remains something we choose or whether we subconsciously learn that our internal experience cannot be trusted.
When Other People's Reactions Become Your Mirror
Imagine this cycle:
Internal experience → social response → interpretation → adaptation → social response → belief about myself
For example:
Internal experience: “I'm overwhelmed by this environment.”
Someone responds:
“You're being too sensitive.”
So you conclude:
“I'm overly sensitive.”
You learn to hide your discomfort. People stop seeing the discomfort.
Then someone says:
“See? You can handle it when you actually try.”
And the conclusion becomes:
“My needs aren't legitimate.”
Nothing about the original sensory experience has necessarily changed. Only the meaning assigned to it changed. Over enough repetitions, other people's interpretations of your experience can become incorporated into your self-concept.
This is one reason judgmental labels can be so damaging.
“I have trouble initiating tasks when I don't know where to start” becomes:
“I'm lazy.”
“I become overloaded in chaotic environments” becomes:
“I'm too sensitive.”
“I don't automatically understand certain social expectations” becomes:
“I'm bad with people.”
“I need more recovery after sustained social interaction” becomes:
“I'm antisocial.”
“I function much better with external structure” becomes:
“I'm incapable of managing my own life.”
A description of an experience has turned into a judgment about a person.
Masking and Identity
Research increasingly supports the idea that camouflaging intersects with identity.
A 2023 mixed-methods systematic review examined 58 studies involving 4,808 autistic participants. Researchers identified self-esteem and identity as one of the major themes associated with camouflaging, with studies describing experiences including low self-esteem and identity confusion. The authors also emphasized an important limitation: research participants were disproportionately White, female, late-diagnosed autistic adults with likely average or above-average verbal or intellectual abilities. We therefore should not assume these findings describe every autistic person.
More recent reviews similarly describe identity-related consequences of social camouflaging while emphasizing that relationships among camouflaging, mental health, diagnosis and identity are complicated and still being studied.
So it would be too simplistic to say:
“Masking causes people to lose their identity.”
But it is reasonable to ask what happens when someone spends years allocating substantial attention to:
“What am I supposed to look like?”
instead of:
“What am I actually experiencing?”
Late Identification Adds Another Layer
Now imagine doing this for 20, 30, 40 or 50 years without knowing that you're autistic. You still have to explain your experiences. Human brains are meaning-making machines. When something happens repeatedly, we develop theories about why. If autism isn't available as an explanatory possibility, other explanations may take its place.
Maybe:
“Something is wrong with me.”
“I'm lazy.”
“I'm difficult.”
“I'm failing at adulthood.”
“Everyone else got an instruction manual that I somehow missed.”
Then someone discovers that they're autistic.
The diagnosis, or recognition of autism, doesn't suddenly create a new person. It may provide new information with which to interpret the person who has been there all along.
Qualitative research with adults diagnosed in middle and later adulthood has found people describing exactly this kind of process: revisiting earlier experiences through a new lens, changing how they understood themselves and, for some, moving from self-criticism toward greater self-compassion and agency.
Research on autistic identity also suggests that adjustment after diagnosis takes time. In one study of 151 autistic adults, greater time since diagnosis was associated with less dissatisfaction with autistic identity. Autism pride was associated with higher self-esteem, while greater dissatisfaction with autistic identity predicted lower self-esteem.
In other words:
Getting an explanation and integrating that explanation into your identity are not necessarily the same event.
Rewriting the Character Sheet
Some of the newest research makes this particularly interesting.
A 2026 study interviewed 34 Australian adults who recognized they were autistic after age 18; most also identified as having ADHD. Participants described an ongoing process of reconsidering their past, present and future selves.
Researchers described this as “re-authoring” the life story: earlier experiences shaped by mismatch, masking and self-blame could be reconsidered using a new explanatory framework. This process wasn't necessarily quick or linear. It could include relief, grief, anger, uncertainty, greater self-understanding and reconsideration of how the person wanted to live going forward.
Another recent study of autistic adults diagnosed between ages 50 and 73 similarly described post-diagnostic identity reconstruction as an ongoing process. Some participants remained caught in self-blame, while others described movement toward greater self-compassion, agency and ways of living that were more consistent with their autistic identities. Importantly, that shift developed over time rather than automatically occurring with diagnosis.
I like to think about this as finally getting a more accurate character sheet.
Maybe the data you collected about yourself all those years weren't wrong. The interpretation was.
A Stronger Self-Concept Doesn't Mean You Stop Adapting
This is where conversations about masking can sometimes become too black-and-white. The goal isn't necessarily:
NEVER MASK AGAIN! AUTHENTICITY AT ALL COSTS!
That's not always practical, safe or even desirable. All humans adapt their behavior. A stronger self-concept allows us to adapt without automatically interpreting adaptation as evidence that our unadapted self is unacceptable.
Compare these two thoughts:
“Everyone gets annoyed when I talk about my interests. I'm annoying, so I need to shut up.”
versus:
“I get intensely interested in things and really enjoy sharing information. Some people enjoy that about me and some don't. I can pay attention to context and choose when and how much I share.”
The external behavior might sometimes be exactly the same. You might decide to stop talking. But internally something very different has happened.
In the first version:
I change because something is wrong with me.
In the second:
I understand myself and choose how I want to navigate this particular situation.
That is a very different relationship with adaptation.
Strengthening Your Self-Concept
Building a stronger self-concept isn't about inventing a better personality. It's about becoming a more accurate observer of yourself.
1. Describe Before You Judge
Try replacing global character judgments with observations.
Instead of:
“I'm lazy.”
Try:
“I have difficulty starting tasks when the first step isn't clear.”
Instead of:
“I'm antisocial.”
Try:
“I enjoy spending time with people, but extended social interaction takes a lot of energy and I need substantial recovery afterward.”
Descriptions give you information. Judgments tend to end the investigation.
2. Become Curious About Your Own Data
Start noticing:
What gives me energy?
What drains it?
What environments make functioning easier?
What environments make it harder?
What do I genuinely enjoy?
What do I tolerate because I think I'm supposed to enjoy it?
When do I feel most like myself?
When am I monitoring myself most intensely?
Think of it as becoming an anthropologist studying one extremely specific human.
You.
3. Identify Your Values
Roles can change. Jobs disappear. Relationships change. Children grow up. Abilities change. Bodies change.
Values can provide continuity.
Ask:
What matters enough to me that I want it reflected in how I live?
Not:
What am I supposed to care about?
4. Learn Your Nervous System
Instead of asking:
“What should I be able to tolerate?”
experiment with:
“Under what conditions does my nervous system function best?”
Consider things such as:
sensory input
sleep
predictability
novelty
movement
solitude
social connection
structure
autonomy
transition time
cognitive load
recovery time
Knowing what your system needs doesn't obligate the rest of the universe to provide it. It simply gives you better information for deciding how to navigate the universe.
5. Look for Yourself Across Time
Ask:
What parts of me keep showing up?
What fascinated you as a child?
What mattered to you at 15? At 25? At 40?
Which characteristics have appeared across different jobs, relationships and environments?
Identity isn't simply a snapshot of who you are today. There are patterns running through your entire story.
6. Revisit Old Conclusions
Pick an old belief about yourself:
“I'm unreliable.”
Then investigate it.
When has that been true?
When has it not been true?
Under what conditions do you become more reliable?
What interferes?
Could there be another explanation?
Maybe the more accurate conclusion becomes:
“I'm extremely reliable when expectations and deadlines are explicit, but I struggle to organize ambiguous, multi-step projects without external structure.”
That's better data not empty positive thinking. And better data gives you more possible solutions.
7. Experiment With Congruence
You don't have to tear off every mask and announce your unfiltered thoughts to humanity. Try small experiments.
Ask for clarification instead of pretending you understood.
Wear the headphones.
Say you need an hour alone.
Admit that you don't enjoy something.
Allow yourself to use the strategy that actually works instead of the one you think should work.
Then observe what happens. You are collecting data again.
The Goal Isn't to Become the Same Person Everywhere
A strong self-concept doesn't mean behaving identically in every environment. It means knowing yourself well enough that you understand what you're adapting and why. This helps you can keep your adaptations in line with both your goals and your values.
In gaming terms:
Self-awareness says:
I know what's happening with my character right now.
Self-concept says:
I know my character.
Self-esteem says:
I value this character including the imperfect stats.
Healthy adaptation says:
I know which build I'm using for this encounter to maximize the chances of achieving my goals.
That's the larger goal. Not eliminating every mask or trying to be perfectly authentic every second of every day. How exhausting is that? Just developing an increasingly accurate understanding of the person living inside your particular nervous system.
The better you know that person, the easier it becomes to distinguish:
“This is something about myself I genuinely want to change.”
from:
“This is something I learned to dislike about myself because other people found it inconvenient.”
And also:
“This isn't actually a character flaw. I may simply need a different strategy, different support, or a different environment.”
Sometimes the character needs a respec. Sometimes you need different gear. Sometimes you need more practice. And sometimes the dungeon is just badly designed. Knowing yourself gives you a much better chance of figuring out which one it is.
Research & Further Reading
Cook, J., Hull, L., Crane, L., & Mandy, W. (2021). Camouflaging in autism: A systematic review. Clinical Psychology Review, 89, 102080.
Read the study on PubMed
Zhuang, S., Tan, D. W., Reddrop, S., Dean, L., Maybery, M., & Magiati, I. (2023). Psychosocial factors associated with camouflaging in autistic people and its relationship with mental health and well-being: A mixed methods systematic review. Clinical Psychology Review, 105, 102335.
Read the study on PubMed
Davies, J., et al. (2024). Autistic identity: A systematic review of quantitative research. Autism Research, 17(5), 874–897.
Read the systematic review on PubMed
Leedham, A., Thompson, A. R., Smith, R., & Freeth, M. (2020). “I was exhausted trying to figure it out”: The experiences of females receiving an autism diagnosis in middle to late adulthood. Autism, 24(1), 135–146.
Read the study on PubMed
Huang, Y., et al. (2022). “A way to be me”: Autobiographical reflections of autistic adults diagnosed in mid-to-late adulthood. Autism.
Read the study on PubMed
Cooper, K., Smith, L. G. E., & Russell, A. (2021). Personal identity after an autism diagnosis: Relationships with self-esteem, mental wellbeing, and diagnostic timing. Frontiers in Psychology.
Read the study on PubMed
Quinlan, E., & Emery, H. (2026). “Joining the Dots Across Time”: A Temporal Conceptual Model of Self-Concept Reconstruction Following Late Recognition of Autism. Autism.
Read the open-access article
A Note About the Research
Autism research has historically included limited representation across gender, race, intellectual ability, communication style and support needs. Research specifically examining masking, late diagnosis and identity has often disproportionately included verbally fluent, White, female and late-diagnosed adults. Findings from these populations should not automatically be generalized to every autistic person.
The concepts of “experienced self” and “performed self” in this article are being used as an explanatory framework rather than as autism diagnostic criteria or a claim that autistic people have two separate selves.
Everyone adapts how they present themselves according to context. The important questions are whether those adaptations are sustainable, how much choice a person has in making them, and whether adapting requires someone to consistently distrust or reject their own experience.
This article is educational and is not intended to diagnose autism or replace individualized mental health care or assessment.