Finding Home: How Autistic Trans Adults Define Belonging

Imagine trying to navigate a world where the overhead lights feel like a physical assault and the social script seems written in a foreign language.

Now, add the complexity of advocating for your gender identity in systems that often refuse to listen.

For many, this is not a hypothetical scenario; it is the daily reality for transgender and gender diverse (TGD) autistic adults.

To understand this complex existence, researchers used a biographical narrative interpretive method to capture lived stories in high fidelity.

Instead of relying solely on statistics, the study utilized reflexive thematic analysis to map the emotional geography of “belonging” across different areas of life.

The findings reveal a stark contrast between systemic rejection and the creative, resilient communities these individuals build for themselves.

transgender identity
A deep dive into the unique challenges and creative solutions found at the intersection of neurodivergence and gender identity.

Key Points

  • Workplace Barriers: Traditional office environments often exclude autistic employees through sensory hazards like fluorescent lighting and rigid social expectations.
  • Healthcare Gatekeeping: Autistic adults seeking gender-affirming care frequently face infantilization, with providers dismissing their autonomy or treating them “like children”.
  • The Power of “Chosen Family”: Many participants reject traditional kinship structures, finding safety and affirmation in communal living and relationships with other neurodivergent people.
  • Sensory Exclusion: Even spaces designed for inclusion, like LGBTQ+ nightclubs, can create “unbelonging” due to overwhelming noise and sensory triggers.

Escaping the Traditional Workplace

The study categorized experiences into three levels, starting with the “macro” level, which includes employment and broad societal structures.

For the participants, the traditional workplace often functioned as a site of exclusion rather than opportunity.

Participants described sensory assaults, such as fluorescent lighting and strong perfumes, as significant barriers to keeping a job.

These weren’t minor annoyances; they were triggers for migraines and shutdowns that employers frequently ignored.

Beyond sensory pain, social friction was common.

One participant noted that ableism was so prevalent they felt unsafe disclosing their diagnosis to colleagues.

Another described their career path as working in “two-year increments” before burning out from the culture.

Consequently, many participants abandoned traditional employment entirely.

They turned to self-employment to curate their own environments, controlling everything from lighting to social interaction.

The “Mountain” of Healthcare

At the “meso” level—which includes healthcare and community organizations—participants faced a different kind of hurdle: gatekeeping.

Autistic adults seeking gender-affirming care reported being treated with skepticism by medical professionals.

Some doctors infantilized them, treating them “as children” the moment their autism diagnosis was revealed.

This reflects a broader systemic issue where providers fail to recognize that a person can be both autistic and trans.

Beyond the interpersonal interactions, the physical space of a hospital can be debilitating.

One participant described being in a hospital as feeling like “climbing a mountain” due to sensory overwhelm.

Even spaces meant for the queer community weren’t always safe havens.

While some found joy in LGBTQ+ spaces, others felt excluded by the sensory violence of loud nightclubs and strobe lights.

For these individuals, the “socially acceptable” way to cope was often getting intoxicated just to numb the sensory pain.

Finding “Sameness” and Chosen Families

Despite these structural barriers, the study uncovered profound resilience at the “micro” level of personal relationships.

Belonging was often found by connecting with other neurodivergent people.

Participants described an almost magnetic pull toward others who shared their neurology, recognizing a “sameness” that made communication effortless.

This connection allowed them to drop the exhausting mask of social performance.

Many participants moved away from biological family structures, which were sometimes sources of trauma or misunderstanding.

In their place, they constructed “chosen families”.

These alternative kinship networks prioritized mutual aid and understanding over blood ties.

Some participants dreamed of, or actively planned for, communal living situations.

They envisioned “communes” where friends could pool resources, share caretaking duties, and support each other’s disabilities.

For these individuals, belonging wasn’t something given by society—it was something they had to build from scratch.

Why it matters

This research highlights that “inclusion” requires more than just good intentions; it requires structural flexibility.

Mental health for TGD autistic people is deeply tied to their ability to control their environment and access understanding communities.

When workplaces and hospitals fail to accommodate sensory needs, they actively create “unbelonging”.

However, the concept of “chosen family” offers a powerful blueprint for everyone.

It suggests that true belonging is found where we are seen, heard, and safe to be our authentic selves.

Reference

Munday, K., Kapp, S. K., & Morris, C. (2025). Transgender and gender diverse autistic adults’ experiences of (un)belonging. PLOS ONE, 20(12), e0338569. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0338569

Saul McLeod, PhD

BSc (Hons) Psychology, MRes, PhD, University of Manchester

Editor-in-Chief for Simply Psychology

Saul McLeod, PhD., is a qualified psychology teacher with over 18 years of experience in further and higher education. He has been published in peer-reviewed journals, including the Journal of Clinical Psychology.


Olivia Guy-Evans, MSc

Associate Editor for Simply Psychology

BSc (Hons) Psychology, MSc Psychology of Education

Olivia Guy-Evans is a writer and associate editor for Simply Psychology, where she contributes accessible content on psychological topics. She is also an autistic PhD student at the University of Birmingham, researching autistic camouflaging in higher education.