One of the assumptions I occasionally encounter when talking about autism is the idea that autistic people are not interested in friendships, do not need social connection, or somehow struggle to understand relationships in the same way as non-autistic people. It is an assumption that can arise when autism is viewed primarily through a deficit-based lens, focusing on communication differences rather than lived experience.
Recently, I spent time with a friend I have known for over fifteen years. We first met while working as nannies and, over the years, our friendship has survived career changes, house moves, periods of distance, personal challenges and all the unpredictability that life brings. Like many adult friendships, there have been countless messages about catching up, dates suggested and plans postponed as life got in the way. Sometimes months have passed between visits. Yet when we finally sit down together with a cup of tea, the friendship is exactly where we left it.
As we spent time together, I found myself reflecting on how often autism is discussed in relation to social difficulties and how rarely we talk about the friendships, relationships and communities that autistic people build throughout their lives. My friend knew I was autistic long before I ever considered seeking an assessment. In fact, she had known me for more than a decade before autism became part of my formal story. She knew the person, not the diagnosis.
Over the years, we have worked together, travelled together, stayed in each other’s homes and supported one another through significant life events. She has known multiple versions of me, just as I have known multiple versions of her. We have watched each other navigate new beginnings, setbacks, achievements and challenges. The friendship has not been built despite autism; it has simply been built through life.
This experience reminds me why the social model of disability is so important. The medical model often focuses on what an autistic person finds difficult. It may highlight differences in communication, social interaction or relationships. The social model asks a different question. Instead of asking what is wrong with the person, it asks what barriers exist within society.
When it comes to friendship, many autistic people are not disabled by a lack of desire for connection. Instead, they may face barriers created by environments, expectations and assumptions. Social spaces can be overwhelming. Communication styles can be misunderstood. Support systems may focus on perceived deficits while overlooking strengths and existing relationships. Stereotypes can lead people to underestimate the depth and quality of autistic friendships.
My own experience challenges many of these assumptions. Alongside this fifteen-year friendship is a wider friendship group that has grown and evolved over time. Some of us
have had children. Some of us have experienced significant health challenges. Some have started new chapters while others have rebuilt their lives from the ground up. We do not all live nearby and we do not see each other as often as we would like. Yet the connection remains.
What strikes me most is that friendship is not always about frequency. It is about trust, reciprocity, shared history and the ability to be yourself. It is knowing that months can pass, life can become busy and circumstances can change, but the relationship remains intact. It is being able to pick up a conversation where you left off, share stories old and new, and feel safe enough to sit together in silence.
Too often, health and social care systems capture only a snapshot of a person’s life. Assessments can document challenges without recognising the friendships, support networks and meaningful relationships that already exist. Looking only at a list of autistic traits might cause someone to miss the fifteen-year friendship, the shared holidays, the long conversations, the mutual support and the sense of belonging that those relationships provide.
The social model encourages us to see the whole person. It reminds us that autistic people are not defined by perceived social deficits and that meaningful relationships can look different from traditional expectations. Friendship does not always follow a standard script, but that does not make it any less valuable.
For me, friendship is found in the people who have shared years of life with me, who know my history, who understand the stories behind the stories and who accept me as I am. Those relationships are not evidence that I have overcome autism. They are evidence that autistic people, like everyone else, seek connection, belonging and understanding.
Sometimes all it takes is a cup of tea and a conversation to remind us of that.
Georgina
Trauma Ambassador