I'm putting this out into the world partly for cathartic purposes and partly because I'd genuinely like some outside perspective from a large sampling of people.
I'm a 43-year-old divorced woman. I'm very beautiful and physically fit, and I've always attracted a lot of attention because of it. I'm also (very noticeably) autistic, level one. I've worked incredibly hard throughout my life to function well and blend in.
I recently became an empty nester, and I'm actually quite content being alone. I've had a very painful life and have been treated very badly. I'm finally getting to a place of stability and even experiencing some genuine happiness for the first time in my life.
I have an incredibly satisfying job that I'm excelling at. I don't make a lot of money, but I can pay my bills. I'm debt-free. I'm building a peaceful life for myself, and I'm not looking for a relationship because I can't tolerate being alone.
But I would really love to find a partner.
I recently made a Bumble account. I tried to be transparent and noted on my profile that I'm neurodivergent, although I didn't explicitly say that I'm autistic. As I expected, I was flooded with matches. It was honestly an overwhelming number of men.
Out of all of them, I chose a man who seemed the least flamboyant and cocky. He was very attractive, but more importantly, he seemed kind and gentle—two things I'd specifically listed as attributes I wanted in a partner. He stated what he wanted and needed in a relationship, and it aligned remarkably well with my own wants and needs. He wasn't pushy about meeting immediately or getting sexual right out of the gate.
I Googled the hell out of him and confirmed that he was exactly who he said he was. Everything I could verify matched what he was representing himself as.
We planned to meet several times, but things kept coming up. His daughters needed him, which was completely understandable to me. I also have young adult children who still need quite a lot of my time and attention.
In the meantime, we got pretty flirty. At that point, the only thing left to do was finally meet and see if we connected in person.
I totally bombed it.
Just as I was arriving for our date, I was hit with a tsunami of nervousness and fear. I was literally shaking.
Initially, he was incredibly sweet about it. He took my hands and squeezed them reassuringly. But it didn't help much. At one point, I was practically dissociating.
Eventually, we left the cafe and drove around together until he needed to go home and take care of his dogs. Things improved a little. We held hands, which was very sweet, but I was still far too anxious. I came away feeling like I'd shown him the absolute worst version of myself.
Later, when I was home and had time to process everything, I realized something that surprised me: a significant part of my anxiety had actually been triggered by his kindness toward me.
I'm so unaccustomed to being treated gently that instead of making me feel safe, it frightened me.
I told him afterward that I was sorry I'd been so nervous, that I really liked him, and that I knew I'd be much more myself the second time around.
The flirting then escalated dramatically. I'm hypersexual, and I was thoroughly enjoying it. But at the same time, something else changed. The kindness and gentleness I'd initially been getting from him seemed to dissipate completely.
We planned to meet again and spend our first night together, but, as I suspected he would, he canceled.
I haven't heard from him since.
It hurt, but I decided to pick myself up and get straight back on the horse. I also decided I'd learned something from the experience: maybe I needed to explicitly disclose the autism before meeting someone, rather than simply saying I'm neurodivergent. That way, a man would have some context if I became unusually anxious or socially awkward when we first met, and neither of us would waste our time if autism was a dealbreaker for him.
So that's what I've been doing.
And every single man I've explicitly disclosed my autism to has unmatched me afterward.
That's the part that's becoming heartbreaking.
I live in an area with a very large dating pool of good-looking, successful, financially stable single men. Getting initial interest isn't difficult for me. These are men who are clearly attracted to me and interested in meeting me immediately before I disclose my diagnosis.
Then I tell them I'm autistic, and they're gone.
I understand that nobody owes me attraction or a relationship. People are allowed to decide that I'm not right for them for any reason whatsoever. But I'm struggling to figure out how to navigate this without either hiding an important part of myself or allowing a diagnostic label to define me before someone has even met me.
Because I'm very beautiful, yes, but I'm also a lovely human being. I'm warm, kind, generous, gentle, affectionate, and loving. I'm a generous and enthusiastic lover. I've had a difficult life, but I'm building a better one.
I don't need someone to rescue me. I don't need a relationship to make my life worthwhile. I know I can build a good life alone.
But I would love to share it with someone.
More than anything, I want a partner who is GENUINELY kind, gentle, supportive, and loving. Someone with whom I can eventually feel safe enough to completely be myself.
So I suppose I have two questions.
For autistic people who have successfully navigated dating: how and when do you disclose? Do you put autism directly on your profile? Tell someone before the first date? Or wait until you've met and established some rapport so they get to meet you before they hear a diagnosis they may have preconceived ideas about?
And more broadly: how do you identify someone who is genuinely kind, gentle, and emotionally safe rather than someone who simply presents that way during the early stages of dating?
I'm trying very hard not to let these experiences make me cynical.
I just want to get better at finding the person who might actually be right for me.