By Marlene, autism therapist & adult on the spectrum

When does a connection become a friendship?

Is it a surprise if I tell you that autistic people crave good friendships? And let me get even bolder: what if I told you that autistic people can make great friends? For many autistic people, friendship isn’t something light or casual. It’s not a passing connection or a social pleasantry. When we feel a bond — a real bond — we take it seriously. We invest. We remember. We believe what is said. And we can be awfully loyal.

And yet, we’re often left wondering: what happened? Did I imagine the whole thing?

This question — simple and painful — has come up in my own life, and I hear it often in my work with autistic adults. It reflects something deeper: a mismatch between how we experience friendship, and how neurotypical social rules are often practiced.

Shared stories ≠ shared intentions?

Someone tells us (very) personal things. We connect. There’s laughter, empathy, support, and maybe even tears. For many of us, that means: “We’re friends now.”

But for some neurotypical people, that level of sharing isn’t necessarily tied to ongoing connection. It might have felt good in the moment. It might have been their way of releasing a particular tension. But it doesn’t always mean, “I want you in my life going forward.” So when we follow up with a message or an invite — and get silence — we’re left confused. That’s where the overthinking and the second guessing comes in: Did I misread them? Was I too much? Did I do something wrong?

We believe words — because we mean them

Autistic people tend to take things literally. We believe the words people say, not because we don’t understand nuance, but because we assume sincerity.

If someone says:

• “You’re my friend.”
• “I’ll be there if you need anything.”
• “We should meet up again.”

Or even worse, when a date says:

• “I need time.”

the autistic person will go into waiting mode, and wonder for weeks, for months, if that was enough time, and it may take years for them to understand and accept that the date was just a coward.

Meanwhile, we believe them, and we often take words as intentions, or even as promises. So when the action doesn’t match, or we’re brushed off, it creates an emotional whiplash. We may even feel betrayed — not because we’re overly sensitive, but because we trusted that the relationship meant something.

We need clarity — not because we’re rigid, but because we care

We’re often told we miss social cues. But what people don’t see is how hard we work to decode everything: tone, context, timing, silence… and we don’t understand why people say things they don’t mean. Isn’t that a complicated way of living?

Overthinking and second guessing make us lose touch with our gut feeling and our authenticity in the relationship:

• Do I follow up again, or is silence a no?
• Should I insist? Or will I be seen as pushy?
• Did they forget, or are they avoiding me?
• Have I said/done something wrong?
• Have I been too much of myself, or not enough?

These aren’t small anxieties. They’re exhausting. And they are depleting us of our already tiny social confidence! The whole thing sometimes feels like a dance where the steps keep changing.

When “nice” feels like betrayal

Neurotypical people often say things out of politeness — without the intent to follow through.

For example, a neighbor might say, “Ring my bell anytime!” — but when we do, they look annoyed or make excuses. To us, this resembles a broken social contract. We don’t expect perfection. All we need is honesty. We’re not wired to say things we don’t mean. Why should we? It’s exhausting, it’s fake. So when others do, it can feel like we were tricked into caring too much.

So what happens? Somebody has been nice and then is not, and we are left hurt, broken, overwhelmed, with no confidence left. Maybe it is that we are just very sensitive?

What we need — and what we offer

We don’t need people to walk on eggshells. What we do need:

• Connection, just like everybody else.
• Clear communication: Say what you mean.
• Follow-through: Don’t make empty invitations.
• Kind honesty: If you don’t want contact, let us know clearly. A little white lie may feel less harsh at first, but will hurt way longer than the truth.

In return, autistic people often offer:

• Deep loyalty
• Consistent presence
• Honest feedback
• Sincere care

We may not always follow the “expected” social rules — but our friendships are often profound and meaningful.

A note to neurotypical readers:

If an autistic person opens up to you, or reaches out again — it’s because they care. If you can’t continue the connection, just say so with kindness and clarity. If you can — be ready for a friendship that’s deep, steady, and refreshingly real. And hey: we can be great fun.

And to autistic readers:

You are not too intense.
You are not socially broken.
You are not foolish for believing people.

You just experience relationships with depth and sincerity — and that’s not a weakness. It’s a strength.

You didn’t imagine it.
You just felt it more truthfully.