After my first networking event three years ago, I went home feeling frustrated with myself. I wanted to talk to people, but networking was a new type of exhaustion that I hadn't experienced before.
I didn't realize it at the time, but I was overstimulated. Most of my conversations until then had been in controlled, predictable environments. I didn't have to maintain eye contact with someone new every five minutes or try to make out what they were saying over a loud crowd. I avoided going to parties, clubs, and concerts.
I couldn't help noticing how much more work it took for me to maintain a simple conversation when it looked so natural to everyone else.
Then, three years later, I was diagnosed with autism at 21, and it suddenly made sense why networking was extra difficult for me.
I've learned ways to accommodate myself and make the experience more comfortable, like taking more breaks and holding a cup of water to give my hands something to do, but there are still things I wish other people knew.
This is just my experience, though. Autism is a spectrum, and people can have different experiences.
Making eye contact is not easy for me. While I can do it, that doesn't mean it's a comfortable experience. It feels overwhelmingly intimate to me, and although I can push through the discomfort and do it for short periods, I do need breaks.
So, if we're having a conversation and I break eye contact, just know that it's not because I don't want to talk to you anymore.
I know we like to read a lot into body language and voice tone, but I wish people knew body language isn't everything.
I've been told my voice sometimes sounds monotone, which makes me appear "bland" and puts people off. It's not my intention at all, and I don't even realize it half the time.
So, when I tell someone that I think their work is fantastic or that I'd love to continue our conversation on another date, I hope they trust the words I say instead of what my tone might indicate.
All the networking spaces I've been in have made networking extra challenging for me. Why do we put 50 to 100 people in large, open spaces (where it often echoes) and make them talk over each other?
It's a sensory nightmare.
Having a separate room or space for quiet conversations could make all the difference. I't would be better for everyone.
Networking is challenging as it is. It's unpredictable, loud, and overstimulating. I'm spending all my energy making sure my body language matches my enthusiasm while paying attention to you. I don't have any brain power left to read into what you're saying, so I'll likely take what you tell me literally.
I don't always understand social cues when it comes to how you're feeling. I won't necessarily "get the hint" that you're done with the conversation if you start fidgeting or looking away. I wish people would be more direct when it comes to letting others know what they need.
Being autistic and navigating the workplace is not easy, and I'm still learning about myself and my needs as an autistic adult. It takes more effort on my part to network, but a little compassion goes a long way.