When you’re told you’re ‘not autistic enough’

Dawn is routinely told she “does not look autistic enough”. Her lived experience is dismissed because she is perceived as too capable. She is an academic with autism and has a PhD in autism and multi-art practice.

“Those who tell me I am ‘not autistic enough’ do not want to hear my lived experience. They feel I do not ‘qualify’ to tell them anything. They tell me: ‘What do you know? You have a PhD, you can live independently, you will never understand our struggles,’” she said of her encounters with parents of children with autism.

The truth is, Dawn added, she understands a lot more than those parents think she does. She can sense things about their children that they cannot because she shares fundamental underlying idiosyncrasies without having the levels of complexities of their needs.

There are also those who urge her to be “more normal”, though none can educate her on what “normal” means. She is excluded for being different, yet tokenised for being “nearly normal”. While she is invited and displayed as proof of inclusion, her views are ignored.

“It is my ‘abnormality’ that makes me unemployable, but ironically, this very trait is capitalised by those who want to use me as a ‘token’ autistic because I am ‘nearly normal’ and so still ‘abnormal’ enough to be a ‘poster’ for their narrative. To these people, I am not normal enough to be embraced but abnormal enough to be used and brandished as a token, so that they can look inclusive. When I am displayed in this manner, my views are not considered, much less sought,” she said.

Dawn’s wish is for people to understand that she isn’t lazy or being difficult or seeking attention. Her words reveal the emotional cost of disbelief whereby exclusion is disguised as acceptance and tokenism masquerades as inclusion.

The visibility bias

Like Dawn, some individuals with autism face a cruel double bind. At the first level, social acceptance of their condition is insufficient. Add to this the perception that the person is “too autistic” to fit in, yet “not autistic enough” to be supported.

In Dawn’s own words, those who appear “high-functioning” are told they do not deserve accommodations and those who mask their traits are disbelieved. 

This disbelief translates into systemic exclusion when schools deny support, workplaces resist accommodations and society withholds empathy. 

Take Roy’s (not his real name) experience. He is a finance professional and has autism. His condition was disclosed to his team members from the outset and to any new subsequent members.

Roy informed a manager that on account of his autism, he would require more detailed work instructions and also ask more questions in order to be able to perform his work tasks.

In response, he was told that his performance appraisal would be negatively affected because, measured against his peers (who do not require this accommodation), it evidenced that he could not work independently.

To Roy, this is inherent discrimination against employees with autism who need detailed and structured instructions to carry out assigned tasks.

“This is part and parcel of my needs as an autistic person. It cannot be a marker of my competency and I should not be penalised for this,” he told me as he recounted his experience.

Roy’s manager very likely not only lacked awareness and understanding of how to help autistic individuals, but also sorely lacked acceptance of the condition.

But public imagination still equates disability with visible cues: wheelchairs, white canes, prosthetics. When a person with a physical disability approaches, the public instinctively makes way.

I’m reminded of my conversation with the chief marketing officer of a Forbes Asia “100 to Watch” company who said she was deemed “not ill or unwell enough” yet or “not normal enough”. Jess suffers from depression. But she masks her symptoms to avoid ridicule.

“It is difficult to share about my true emotions and mental state without being ridiculed for being ‘attention-seeking’ or ‘weak’. So I mask my true mental state, which ends up in a vicious circle of a relapse. I want to break this cycle.”

Jess’ frustration is palpable. She said she is battling an illness of the brain, but her battle cannot be seen and so she is disregarded, or worse, ridiculed when she informs others of her illness.

Government initiatives – from employment schemes to caregiving support – are largely designed with visible disabilities in mind. Civic groups such as the Disabled People’s Association publish access guides, while institutions like the National Gallery Singapore and Mandai Wildlife Reserve have invested in barrier-free routes, sensory-friendly spaces and accessibility maps.

These efforts matter. They demonstrate that Singapore has made meaningful strides in physical accessibility. But they also reveal a deeper assumption: that disability is something one can see. 

This assumption leaves out many whose struggles are hidden, whose needs are misunderstood and whose daily lives are shaped by conditions that do not announce themselves.

Autism, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, intellectual disabilities, depression, schizophrenia and other neurodevelopmental or psychiatric conditions do not manifest through visible signs. Their invisibility is compounded by the fact that each exists on a spectrum; every individual presents differently. 

Perceptions matter

Globally, media narratives often frame disability as either tragedy or triumph – rarely as ordinary life. Films such as Rain Man or television series like The Good Doctor and The Big Bang Theory reinforce savant stereotypes, shaping public perception that individuals with autism must be either geniuses or burdens.

These portrayals flatten the complexity of lived experience. They create a narrow imagination of what autism looks like, and in doing so, they dehumanise those whose lives do not fit cinematic extremes.

The danger of this selective visibility is profound.

The UN Department of Economic and Social Affairs highlighted that despite there being an estimated one billion people with disabilities (PWDs) worldwide, they are seldom mentioned in the mainstream media, or if they are mentioned, they are portrayed inappropriately or “negatively stereotyped”. The individuals are often treated as objects of pity and charity, or as “superheroes” in order to inspire the non-disabled.

When members of the public see only extraordinary depictions, they begin to believe that invisible disabilities are exaggerated, exceptional or imagined. 

News reports have the potential to dispel myths and correct misinformation about persons living with disabilities. They can provide real stories of not just hopeful but also likely recovery, which will provide impactful encouragement.

A Ministry of Social and Family Development study found that positive attitudes towards autism fell from 69.9 per cent in 2019 to 56.2 per cent in 2023, while negative perceptions more than doubled.

Workplace exclusion deepens mental health fissures when employees face scepticism about their needs. This regression underscores why awareness campaigns alone are insufficient. What is needed is not pity but parity.

As a society, we can and must do better too. The consequences of inaction leading to educational inequity arise when students with invisible disabilities are denied accommodations, leading to dropouts and wasted potential.

American writer Eva Redford, whose work focuses on societal infrastructure for neurodivergent individuals, describes this dynamic as the exclusion debt. When an unempathetic society fails to build inclusive systems, it creates the debt.

The person with the invisible disability is forced to “pay” this debt every day through emotional exhaustion, the burden of constant self-advocacy, and lost opportunities in school or at work. 

Legal entanglement

In the legal realm, access to justice for individuals whose disabilities affect communication, comprehension or behaviour – whether offender or victim – can be improved only by reimagining legal processes and options.

Behaviours stemming from sensory overload, acute anxiety or social differences are tragically misinterpreted as defiance or hostility by law enforcement.

In recognition of this, the Inclusive Justice Taskforce was formed on Jan 8, 2026. This is a multi-agency, interdisciplinary task force that includes the ministries of Law, Social and Family Development, Home Affairs, and Health, as well as the State Courts, the Attorney-General’s Chambers, the Singapore Police Force, the Singapore Prison Service and the Institute of Mental Health, among others.

It has a sweeping mandate to review the entire legal process and make recommendations for the Government to consider.

In addition to legislative levers and reviewed processes in the legal system, the task force is also looking into how society can divert people with invisible disabilities from getting entangled in the legal system, with meaningful social support initiatives.

By establishing such interventions, we can aim to de-escalate these interactions and address their root causes before they ever formalise into criminal proceedings.

This shift from a punitive framework to a supportive one acknowledges that there is more room for empathy for individuals with invisible disabilities.

Towards visibility and justice

Invisible disabilities challenge our deepest biases: We believe what we see and dismiss what we cannot.

To be regarded as “not autistic enough” is to face a double whammy, to be erased twice – first by the invisible disability, then by disbelief.

The task before us is clear: to make the invisible visible, not by forcing disclosure, but by building systems that presume dignity, provide support and respect neurodiversity. 

Only then can we dismantle the double whammy and affirm the Dawns in our midst who live seemingly ordinary lives yet face multi-layered and unseen barriers.

We need to move beyond statements such as “you don’t look disabled” to “tell me what support you need”. All citizens, including PWDs, should be able to enjoy societal inclusion.

Education must be inclusive. Educators must be trained to recognise invisible disabilities and provide appropriate accommodations.

Workplace inclusion can be achieved when we value neurodiverse strengths and redesign hiring practices accordingly. The media can do much to dispel the myth of disability being extremes of tragedy or genius and tell the stories of ordinary yet complex lives with invisible disabilities.

In 2026, Singapore marks 200 years since the Second Charter of Justice of 1826, the document that established the rule of law in our then young settlement. That document laid the foundation for our modern legal identity and set out the legal foundations for fairness, due process and promised justice for all. 

Today, 200 years later, can we ask ourselves whether we have extended that promise to those with unseen struggles who are unheard or misunderstood?