Reflecting on Autism and Gender Dysphoria.

This is an ever present topic at the moment. I find myself constantly mulling over. Due to personal circumstances, that life has thrown in my direction.

I thought I must write it out, if only just to make sense of it to myself in some small way. so here goes…

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the conversations I’ve seen and participated in around autism and gender identity. There seems to be growing discussion about whether there’s a correlation between autism and gender dysphoria. And, like so many topics involving identity, mental health, and neurodiversity, it’s complicated, nuanced, and deeply personal.

First, I want to say: I am not a medical professional, and what I’m sharing here is purely reflective my thoughts, observations, and curiosity. But as someone who is fascinated by the ways we understand ourselves and each other, I find this topic worth exploring. Also as someone who’s neurodivergent who struggled with gender identity in the 90’s.

From what I’ve read and seen, there does appear to be some overlap. Studies and anecdotal reports suggest that autistic people are statistically more likely to experience gender dysphoria than neurotypical populations. And while that doesn’t mean one causes the other, it raises questions about identity, self-awareness, and the ways neurodiverse brains experience the world.

Autistic people often describe their sense of self in ways that feel very literal, intense, and sometimes less influenced by social norms. That heightened self-awareness—or sometimes, feeling out of sync with societal expectations might make it easier for them to recognize incongruence between their assigned gender and their internal identity. In other words, they might notice earlier, or more acutely, that something feels off.

I’ve also reflected on the role of rigidity and rules in both autism and gender identity exploration. Autistic individuals often experience the world in clear, structured ways, and social expectations can feel confusing or exhausting. Gender norms, unfortunately, are rarely flexible. For someone already sensitive to these kinds of societal pressures, the mismatch between who they are and what the world expects can be painfully obvious. That dissonance can sometimes manifest as gender dysphoria.

But of course, correlation doesn’t equal causation. Not every autistic person experiences gender dysphoria, and not everyone with gender dysphoria is autistic. Each person’s experience is unique, shaped by biology, environment, culture, and personal history. And I think it’s crucial to approach this subject with empathy and nuance, rather than trying to reduce it to statistics or trends.

What fascinates me most is how these experiences highlight the importance of listening to oneself and to others. Autistic people and those experiencing gender dysphoria both navigate worlds that can feel unaccommodating or invalidating. And that shared sense of navigating a space where you don’t always “fit” can teach the rest of us a lot about acceptance, understanding, and patience.

I also find myself reflecting on how society labels and categorizes things. The tendency to pathologies or over explain can sometimes obscure the simple truth: people know themselves better than anyone else. If someone is autistic, trans, or both, they are experts in their own experience. And what’s most important is that they are supported, affirmed, and given space to explore their identities safely.

For me, this topic is a reminder of why I started The Room to Bloom in the first place. Life is complicated. Identity is complicated. And we all need a safe space to reflect, explore, and be heard without judgment. Whether it’s about gender, neurodiversity, or any other facet of self, the most important thing is compassion for yourself and for others. Even if sometimes it feels hard to accept.

So do I think there’s a correlation between autism and gender dysphoria? From my reflections, yes, there seems to be some overlap, but it’s complex, multifaceted, and far from deterministic. What matters most is honoring each person’s journey, listening to their experiences, and creating spaces where exploration and understanding can flourish and not always feeling the need to label, unless of course you need to for yourself.

Because at the end of the day, whether neurodiverse, neurotypical, trans, cis, or somewhere in between, we all need the same thing: to be seen, to be heard, and to feel accepted as our authentic self even at times when we don’t know who that is just yet.