Does my autistic friend really want to see me? (Or, how to explain to your neurotypical friends when you want to make plans but are too burnt out)

A few days ago, someone approached me with concern: "I have this friend of a friend who I think is absolutely amazing, and I'd really like to get to know him myself. We've hung out and had conversations, and I always feel like it went well, but whenever we talk about doing something together, he says he's interested but then ignores any efforts I make to schedule the activity. He's autistic and I don't want to distance him based on a misread of his intentions, but I also don't want to annoy him if he's not interested. How do I know whether he's disinterested, or just not communicating in a way that I'm understanding?" It occurred to me that this is probably a question others have had about me -- likely on multiple occasions -- so I want to share my response with all of you. 

First, a general disclaimer: autistics aren't all alike, we don't all feel the same way and communicate the same way. I try to keep my posts as general and representative as I can, but please keep in mind that I'm just one example of neurodivergence. The best way to know what your autistic friend/acquaintance/family member is thinking and feeling is to talk with them, and to help them feel safe communicating honestly with you. And, by the way, these sentiments aren't exclusive to neurodivergence; neurotypicals can also relate and benefit from language like mine. With that said, here's my best explanation of what's going on when I'm invited to do something social.

So, here's the code I use with my friends to explain where I'm at when they invite me to spend time with them:

Making plans is like sitting at a traffic light: 

Sometimes the light is green, sometimes it's yellow, and sometimes it's red, but I don't bother getting onto the road unless I want to eventually go through that light. To translate my metaphor a little (forgive me if it's obvious), I won't express interest in making plans if I'm not sincerely interested, but how rapidly I proceed with those plans is more variable. My close friends know this analogy, so when they suggest an activity, I can tell them if I'm "at a red light" and they know what I mean. 

When the light is green, that means I am in a good place to get things scheduled. I have the energy required for the recommended activity, I have time in my schedule, I'm ready to go. This is the state that's easiest to explain and easiest to recognize, so there's not much more to say on the topic. If you suggest plans and I say "That sounds great, how about this weekend?" then I'm probably at a green light. 

When the light is yellow, I have to be a bit more careful. In this case, the activity (or just my life at the moment) is going to take more energy than I can easily spare, so I need to schedule carefully to leave myself time to recover after. (If the metaphor is helping you, think of it like making sure you have time to get through the intersection -- or activity -- before the next obligation/responsibility comes crashing through).  It used to be that after any social activity, I'd need a full day curled up in recovery mode before I could go back to everyday life. Today, it's more likely that I just need to schedule for a day that I don't have other things scheduled after; or it may mean I need to choose a light work week so that I can take it relatively easy in the days that follow, but not necessarily take a day off. When the light is yellow, I might sound hesitant when you suggest plans, but it's not out of disinterest; it's because I'm trying to gauge when I can enjoy the plans without negative consequences to my other obligations. I want to be sure to really enjoy my time with you, not speed through that time in order to beat oncoming "traffic" (obligations/responsibilities). 

When the light is red, I really do want to do the thing but I can't even begin to plan it just yet; I need to get through some other obligations or overwhelm, or I'm feeling burnt out and need to do some recovery first. If the light is red, I'll say that I'd like to do the thing, but I'll also avoid actually scheduling yet. Personally, I can usually say "Can we revisit this once I get through _______?" but I know other autistics who, when at this level of exhaustion, can't predict when they'll be up to making those plans. It may help to remember: autistics are often told to be careful not to "overshare," and may worry that if they explain to you all of what they're feeling you may feel that they're disclosing more information than is comfortable for you.  It's a difficult balance to find, and we may not always get it right.

If I'm just not interested in the plans, I'll either say so, or suggest an alternative. In my experience, most autistic individuals tend to be pretty honest if they don't want to do something, but I don't doubt that some, in an effort to mask, may be less direct. Depending on how well you know the individual, they may be able to answer you honestly if you ask directly; it really depends on the individual and the relationship. That said, if you have a close relationship with the individual, you could always suggest a language like mine to clarify these things. 

It's also important to note that just like a red light on one street doesn't necessarily mean a red light on a different street, a "red light" for one plan doesn't necessarily mean the light will be "red "for something else. If you want to hang out with a larger friend group in a bar or club, I might be interested but be at a "red light." The same night, if you ask me if I'd like to sit on my back deck with coffee and cookies and catch up just the two of us, that may be a very easy green light. Me accepting one plan doesn't mean I'll reject a different plan; and sometimes, what's "green" and what's "red" might be unintuitive to you. For example, I personally would find it easier to meet at a familiar local restaurant for dinner than to watch a new show/movie together over zoom; new shows/movies are unpredictable, which can make them more overstimulating and stressful; familiar restaurants are, well, familiar. For me, it's not necessarily about the amount of activity or even the ambient sound of the location; it's more often about predictability and familiarity. So if your new autistic friend appears on instagram in a picture with one of their closer friends, but didn't schedule plans with you, that doesn't mean they don't like you; it could mean that plans with a familiar friend are less stressful than plans with a new friend, and they had enough energy for one but not the other. 

I do need to offer one clarification: if you think you're trying to make plans, but you're not explicitly saying that, it's worth being more direct. Especially with a new friendship, it can be hard to be sure which comments are invitations and which are simply comments. For example, if I mention that I want to go somewhere, and an acquaintance says "I'm free this weekend!" I may hope that they're asking if I'd like to go that weekend, but also worry that they're considering going themselves, or even just changing the topic in a way that makes sense to a neurotypical but isn't evident to me. It is so much easier for me to be sure if they say, "I'm free this weekend, would you want to go with me on Saturday or Sunday??" It may seem like an obvious invitation to most people, but part of being autistic is thinking things are obviously one thing, and being told they're actually obviously something else. Direct questions also make it more socially acceptable to give direct answers: if someone is hinting that they'd like to spend time with me, then explaining that I'm currently overwhelmed can be perceived as being presumptuous and/or oversharing; if they ask me directly, I can give a clearer answer without risk of causing offense. 

And reader, if you are neurotypical, I'm going to take a wild guess: What I've described here sounds very relatable to you, and you're baffled why I'm talking like it's related to autism.
I'm guessing pretty much everyone has days when they're up to certain activities, days they're not up to the same activities, some activities they would like to do right away and others that would require more advance notice. I'm not claiming any of this is exclusive to autism. Sometimes, folks don't realize that autistics have the same experiences as neurotypicals; sometimes, they don't recognize the cues we use to convey those experiences. Perhaps most of all, we may be at green lights less often than our neurotypical friends, and the activities that we find especially challenging may seem easy to others. My hope is that my writing will help you to recognize that your autistic friend's experiences are much more relatable than you realized -- and perhaps also give you an analogy to use to communicate with one another more easily.