
Part 1: Recognizing the Patterns
When Empathy Meets Manipulation: How Autistic Adults Become Targets
For years, I couldn’t quite put my finger on what felt “off” in certain relationships. Whether in family, friendships, romantic partners, or even work environments, there always seemed to be an unspoken imbalance — a tension I couldn’t name. As an adult with autism, I often approached the world with sincerity, directness, and a deep sense of loyalty. I gave people the benefit of the doubt, even when their actions chipped away at my peace.
It wasn’t until I began learning about narcissistic abuse that the puzzle pieces started falling into place.
Autistic adults are often targeted by narcissists not because we’re weak, but because of our innate strengths — empathy, integrity, consistency, and a tendency to take people at face value. We seek clarity and honesty, not mind games and manipulation. Narcissists, however, thrive on confusion and control. And because we may miss subtle social cues or doubt our own instincts (especially after years of masking), we become easy to exploit — at least until we wake up to the pattern.
That awakening isn’t easy. It’s often painful, and it can feel like a betrayal to our very nature. But recognizing the abuse is the first powerful step in reclaiming our voices.
When the Puzzle Pieces Started to Click
For years, I walked through life confused by the reactions I received from others. The laughter I heard around me didn’t always feel like joy — sometimes, it carried an edge I couldn’t quite name. I’d often be the last to realize I was the punchline, not the participant. If I hadn’t already felt uneasy in a space or experienced harm there before, I usually didn’t see the subtle ridicule coming. But afterward, I’d replay things over and over in my mind, searching for clues.
It didn’t just happen once — it happened everywhere. At work, at church, even in my own family. People would make jokes about the way I talked or moved, criticizing me for things I wasn’t even aware were “different.” They mocked my posture, said I moved too stiffly, too robotically. Some thought I sounded too formal, too “correct.” Others said I seemed too naïve for my age, too innocent to really know anything — and yet, ironically, I was often more educated or intellectually capable than those trying to discredit me.
My interests rarely aligned with the social majority, and because I didn’t blend in easily — especially in spaces heavily shaped by cultural norms I didn’t quite fit into — I became an easy target. Not because I was offensive or unkind. In fact, I was often too kind, too accommodating. But my presence alone seemed to rub some people the wrong way, as if just being myself was reason enough for them to turn on me.
I didn’t have the language then, but I do now. What I was experiencing wasn’t just social awkwardness or being “different.” It was the beginning of a long pattern of covert bullying, gaslighting, and narcissistic abuse — and my autism made me more vulnerable to it, even though it also gave me the insight to eventually see through it.
This was where the pieces began to click.
In this series, I’ll be peeling back the layers of what it looks like to experience narcissistic abuse as an autistic adult — the confusion, the self-doubt, the patterns that repeat across relationships, workplaces, and even spiritual communities. I’ll share how I woke up to it all, how I began to name it, and how I started reclaiming myself — not in spite of my autism, but because of it. I’ll also share the red flags we often miss, the internal battles we fight, and most importantly, how we find our way to truth, healing, and freedom.
If you’ve ever felt unseen, gaslit, or emotionally drained in relationships and wondered if the problem was you — this series is for you.
In Part 2, we’ll explore the pain of being misunderstood – and how masking can blur the lines between survival and self-betrayal.