Masking - The Unofficial Olympics

VHC team
Dec 9
3 min read

Updated: Dec 12

Because sometimes being neurodivergent in a neurotypical world feels like a full-time competition

Brains race on a blue track with "Masking" above and "The Unofficial Olympics" below.

Masking is something many neurodivergent people know all too well — the pressure to appear “socially appropriate,” hide sensory overwhelm, or copy neurotypical behaviours just to get through the day.It’s a survival strategy, a form of protection, and for many, a deeply exhausting part of daily life.

This blog explores masking through a light-hearted metaphor — the “Masking Olympics.”Because honestly, if masking were a sport, most neurodivergent people would qualify for nationals.

The Training Regimen

Before the games even begin, there’s the constant mental prep. Masking can look like:

Rehearsing social scripts
Facial expression and tone practice
Holding back stims or enthusiasm
Precision eye contact training
Repeating interactions in head
Decoding unspoken social rules
Guess when its your turn to speak

Masking is often a way to stay safe, connect, and navigate systems that aren't built for neurodivergent brains.

But it’s work — invisible, unpaid, full-time work.

The Events

And then come the Olympic games themselves — every social situation becoming a performance with shifting expectations:

The Eye Contact Marathon: Maintaining “just the right amount” of eye contact without accidentally starting a staring contest.
The Small-Talk Sprint: Flying through weather chats, polite laughs, and “How was your weekend?” routines with elite endurance.
The “Did I Say That Weird?” Relay: Passing the baton between overthinking, replaying conversations, and trying to decode tone.
The Sarcasm Interpretation Decathlon: Attempting to read micro-expressions, tone, intention, and context all at once — at superhuman speed.
The Sensory Overload Swim: Treading water in bright, loud, overwhelming environments while looking totally composed on the surface.

The Ever-Changing Judges Panel

The hardest part? The “rules” change depending on the situation, the people, the culture, the environment.

Three pink figures with "10" scores on a panel, each with speech bubbles: masking judging

The imaginary judges score you on things like:

“Appropriate vibe”
“Blended in seamlessly”
“Not too much, not too little”

And because the criteria are constantly shifting, it’s easy to feel like you’re always falling short — even when you’re doing everything “right.”

After the Olympics: The Cost of Masking

After the “masking olympics” are over, the only prize you’re often left with is:

Social exhaustion that hits the moment you get home
Difficulty knowing what your “real self” feels like
Emotional overwhelm after holding it together all day
Burnout from constant monitoring, editing, and adapting
Feeling disconnected or drained after social situations

Masking may “work” short-term, but long-term it can be deeply draining.

Small Rest-Day Moments Count

You don’t have to drop the mask all at once; even small rest-day moments count. This can look like:

Stimming freely
Saying “I need a break”
Being honest about sensory needs (where safe)
Letting go of social scripts
Sharing your real thoughts and interests with someone you trust
Choosing comfort over performance
Letting yourself be you

Rest days also help the nervous system recover and reconnect with your authentic self.

Redefining What “Winning” Means

Masking might help you navigate the world, but it shouldn’t cost you your wellbeing. Winning isn’t about blending in or achieving a perfect score from the invisible judges — it’s about: