Respect Is the Baseline — Not the Reward
- James Link
- Apr 19
- 3 min read

For many of us on the autism spectrum, the world has handed us a script before we ever had a chance to write our own.
“You’re too sensitive.”
“You’ll never be able to do that.”
“You don’t seem capable.”
We hear these kinds of statements so often, they stop sounding shocking. They start sounding normal. And that’s exactly the problem.
From classrooms to job interviews to family dinners, autistic individuals are constantly navigating assumptions — assumptions that reduce our humanity to a checklist of deficits and limitations. And worse, we’re often expected to perform a version of ourselves that makes others more comfortable before we’re “worthy” of being respected.
But let’s be clear:
Respect is not something we should have to earn by hiding who we are. Respect should be the starting point — not the finish line.
What Respect Actually Looks Like
Respect is more than politeness. It’s more than tolerance. It’s about seeing someone’s humanity as fully intact, regardless of how they move through the world.
That means:
You don’t have to make eye contact to be taken seriously.
You don’t have to speak a certain way to be heard.
You don’t have to think, work, or live like everyone else to be respected.
Respect is giving someone the benefit of the doubt. It’s choosing to listen instead of label. It’s realizing that your way of experiencing the world isn’t the only valid way.
Too many autistic people are forced to earn respect through overperformance — masking, excelling, or suppressing our needs just to be treated fairly. And often, the moment we step outside of that performance, the respect disappears.
Success Comes in More Than One Shape
We live in a world that tends to celebrate a narrow version of success: loud, fast, busy, visible.
But autistic success often lives outside that frame. It’s not always loud — it can be quiet, steady, and laser-focused. It’s not always fast — it can be thoughtful, intentional, and deeply immersive. And it’s not always linear — it can take detours and still lead somewhere meaningful.
Some of us build our lives through art, writing, or coding.
Others lead through compassion, focus, or innovation.
Some work full-time, some part-time, some run businesses, and some are still figuring out what work means for them.
All of it counts.
Just because our path doesn’t look like yours doesn’t mean we’re lost. It means we’re finding our own way.
We’re Not Asking for Extra — We’re Asking for Equity
Too often, the world sees any accommodation for autistic people as “extra.” But in reality, we’re just asking for access. We’re asking for workplaces that value clarity over chaos. For classrooms that offer flexibility. For relationships built on mutual understanding — not constant correction.
We’re not trying to take anything away from anyone.
We’re trying to build spaces where we don’t have to shrink to fit.
If autistic people have to act less autistic to be welcomed, then it’s not really inclusion. It’s performance — and it’s exhausting.
Want to Help? Start With This.
If you’re someone who wants to be part of the solution — thank you. The truth is, we can’t shift culture alone. We need allies who are willing to examine their assumptions and listen differently.
Here are a few ways to start:
Challenge stereotypes when you hear them, even in casual conversation.
Listen without rushing to fix. Sometimes we just want to be heard — not corrected.
Value what we bring. Our insights, focus, honesty, and creativity are strengths — even if they show up differently.
Make room at the table. In classrooms, workplaces, and leadership — representation matters.
Final Thoughts: We’ve Always Been Here
Autistic people have always existed. We’ve always contributed. We’ve always mattered.
It’s just taken the world a while to catch up.
So let this be the new message:
You don’t have to earn your humanity.
You don’t have to “prove” your potential.
You don’t have to hide your differences to deserve belonging.
Respect is the baseline.
Not the reward.
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