What It Really Feels Like to Be Autistic: Living with Constant Sensory Overload

April is Neurodiversity Awareness Month

I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately, especially as someone who is autistic and experiences the world in ways that are often hard to explain.

As a nurse, a coach, and a health equity advocate, I’ve spent years thinking about how people experience the world.

As someone who is autistic, and also living with a connective tissue disorder, I don’t just think about it.

I feel it. Constantly.

For me, autism often shows up as a kind of steady sensory buzz.

A background hum that can shift from manageable to overwhelming depending on the environment, the moment, or even my own internal state.

There are times I’ve wondered how much of this is shaped not only by autism, but also by my body and the complexity of conditions I carry.

What I do know is this:

The more I’ve learned about sensory processing differences, the more I find myself appreciating something simple, yet profound.

The act of showing up, everyday as a health equity advocate, autistic and mobility challenged coach, and human being navigating the world.

A Day: Navigating Autistic Sensory Overload

The author, a Black, autistic woman, sits pensively in a cozy café, sipping coffee amidst the warm glow of ambient lights and the chronic hum of background conversations.

Imagine a world where every texture, sound, and shift in temperature is amplified.

This heightened experience is commonly described as autistic sensory overload.

That’s usually my starting point these days.

Morning - Rise and Shine (Maybe)

I wake up and immediately assess my environment.

Is my blanket grounding, or overwhelming?

Do my clothes feel neutral, or like friction against my skin?

Some days, even soft fabrics feel sharp. Humidity can turn comfort into irritation.

So I move more slowly.

Not because I want to, but because rushing intensifies everything.

Getting Dressed

Getting dressed isn’t about style. It’s about regulation.

Tags, seams, and textures all matter. Also if I am having a pain flare.

I’ve learned to adapt:

• soft fabrics

• layers for temperature shifts

• pieces that feel predictable

It’s not about preference.

It’s about navigating the day in a body that processes more.

Stepping Outside

Light doesn’t just illuminate. It can overwhelm.

Sunglasses aren’t optional. They’re necessary.

A breeze can feel calming one moment and overstimulating the next.

So I pause. I breathe.

And I adjust again.

Navigating Environments

In social spaces, like a café, sensory input builds quickly.

This is often where autistic sensory overload becomes most noticeable:

• overlapping conversations

• background music

• movement

• clinking dishes

To stay present, I ground myself in something steady.

The feel of a table.

My breath.

A fixed point in the room.

My dear friends who allow me to babble or be a listener as I need to.

From the outside, it may look like I am simply sitting, enjoying a nice break in the day.

Internally, I am actively regulating.

What Often Goes Unseen

For many people, these experiences may seem small.

But for many autistic individuals, sensory processing is not occasional. It is constant, and often experienced as autistic sensory overload in everyday environments.

Research shows that over 90% of autistic individuals experience sensory differences.

But statistics do not fully capture what it means to move through the world this way.

Where the Shift Happened for Me

What has changed for me over time is not the sensory experience itself.

It is how I understand it.

And how I understand others.

As I have grown, both through my professional work and my lived experiences, I have developed a deeper sense of empathy and humility.

I can say honestly that even living in this space I did not fully integrate these concepts in to my own work with clients until I actively recognized how it impacted me.

And that matters.

Because how we understand sensory experience directly impacts:

• how we care

• how we listen

• how we create space for others

The Brilliance in Showing Up

There is a narrative that focuses on the challenges of neurodiversity.

And those challenges are real.

But there is also something else that deserves recognition.

The resilience it takes to show up in a world that is not designed for your nervous system.

Many neurodivergent individuals:

• adapt constantly

• regulate continuously

• navigate environments that require extra effort just to participate

And still, they show up.

That, in itself, is brilliance.

Building More Inclusive Environments

If we want to create truly inclusive spaces, especially in healthcare, we have to move beyond awareness.

We have to consider:

• sensory-friendly environments

• flexible communication styles

• space for regulation without judgment

Inclusion is not just about access.

It is about experience.

Final Reflection

The more I understand my own sensory world, the more I recognize how often autistic sensory overload is misunderstood or overlooked. I also have a greater appreciation for others navigating theirs.

Not just for how they adapt.

But for the fact that they continue to engage, contribute, and exist fully in spaces that often require more from them.

Let's chat:

What would it look like to create environments that do not require people to constantly override their sensory needs?

How might we show up differently for ourselves and for others if we truly understood that experience?

#SensoryAwareness #AutismAcceptance #NeurodiversityMatters #InclusiveDesign #ConsciousByUs