33 Comments
User's avatar
Lisa M's avatar

This is so validating. I am looking forward to taking your course. I am currently trying to get physical separation from this man, financial stability, and rebuild my sanity and my life. Pray...I may be less than two weeks away from him finally moving out.

Jodi Carlton, MEd's avatar

I’m so glad you feel validated, and I hope the course gives you even more clarity. Please reach out to others for support and help through this process. Don’t try to go through it alone.

E. A.'s avatar

Master manipulators are the hard kind of abusers to recognize.

You know when someone punches you in the face, but the sneaky kind of abuse can be worse because it is harder to recognize.

I learned to trust my own intuition, and to remember no other person is my higher power.

Jodi Carlton, MEd's avatar

Absolutely. Microagressions are often in the form of “jokes,” subtle put-downs, comparison with others, and even seemingly loving statements like “I just want what’s best for you,” usually following an insult about intelligence or ability. Your gut intuition is a powerful and accurate informant when it tells you something is not as it seems.

Just Me's avatar

Uncanny how accurate this was! The awful part was he claimed to be extremely autistic to excuse his behavior until our relationship counselor challenged his self diagnosis. He fired the counselor and escalated the abuse.

Jodi Carlton, MEd's avatar

Unfortunately, what you’ve described is a pattern that I see consistently in my work with couples. Although autism is an explanation for many things that are confusing and painful for both partners, when one partner weaponizes autism as an excuse for behavior (or, for some partners, as a way to blame a partner), without personal accountability, there is a more destructive problem. Autistic partners rarely (if ever) rage-quit therapy or coaching. Narcissistic partners will rage quit and become more abusive to punish the partner while playing the victim. I’m sad for you that you’re going through this, but hopefully, you are feeling some validation of your experience.

Helen's avatar

My story is very similar to yours. The biggest difference is that I didn’t know anything about ASD, other than becoming aware of those who are profoundly affected when my sister worked in a group home, until 2 years ago at the age of 68.

I was married to a sociopathic (therapist’s term, not mine) man for 13 or 14 years, divorcing just 8 years ago. I have trauma from childhood as well. The family that I have left, a brother and two sons, don’t want to hear about autism and how it affects me — in at least one or two cases I think because they don’t want to see the traits in themselves. I’ve never had a real friend so it’s just my cat and me living in an apartment.

I struggle to leave the apartment but I am not giving up. I have finally found a wonderful therapist along with a good psychiatrist (lifetime of depression and anxiety) and hope to add more professionals to my “team” in the next week or two, assuming I can force myself to leave the safety of my place. Thank you for so bravely sharing your story.

Jodi Carlton, MEd's avatar

I’m so glad for you that you are finally getting some clarity and validation from a team of providers who understand. Family is sometimes very resistant to insight because neurodivergence is genetic and it’s the only frame of reference they have. My clients have told me “I’m not autistic - my whole family is like this.” Yep. :) It’s difficult for the one person who starts to understand themselves better when the others are not interested in insight.

Just Me's avatar

So interesting how closely this article matches my lived experience. 18 year relationship until I fled for my life with a few small personal belongings. 😢 Now going through the slow and painful legal separation process and wondering if he is stubbornly keep the process going to stay attached in some way to me and inflict further harm. Trying to heal from waking up in the nightmare that I ironically and slowly allowed.

Helen's avatar

I suspect that you will learn as I have that during the nightmare you slowly lost bits and pieces of yourself. I don’t know how long ago you fled (good for you!!!) but after so many years under the influence of someone like the person you have left, it could be hard to see that you were manipulated (for want of a better word) and the extent to which it happened. It wasn’t your fault!

We are both reclaiming our lives and the future is looking so much brighter than the past. I’ll be thinking of you.

Just Me's avatar

Thank you for your response, it meant so much to me. 🙏

Reader/Writer's avatar

I am rooting for you, Helen. Step at a time.

awakechristian's avatar

I have autism and I can tell you straight away that it is not an excuse for terrible behavior. Thank you for writing this. It makes a good point.

ADHD Academic's avatar

I've seen so many women ask desperately if their husbands/boyfriends are emotionally abusive "or is it just the ADHD?" The implication is that if it's "just the ADHD" then they should forgive and put up with it.

But that's not the question. The question is "am I happy?" Do I feel safe? Do I feel respected? If the answer is "no", then leave. You don't have to explain or excuse yourself.

Jodi Carlton, MEd's avatar

Yaasss!!!! Exactly this. I’ll add that it’s not just women. I have men coming to me asking the same question about autistic and ADHD partners. The underlying belief is often that it’s somehow wrong to prioritize your own well-being if your partner has a diagnosis.

My perspective has always been firm on this, even before my work became focused on neurodiversity. As a therapist, I worked with individuals and couples navigating depression, anxiety, trauma, brain injury, and other significant challenges. Compassion, flexibility, and genuine curiosity about a partner’s lived experience are incredibly important. But it is neither healthy nor sustainable to expect one partner to sacrifice their wellbeing because the other has a diagnosis.

A diagnosis is not a free pass to have your needs consistently prioritized, nor does it excuse causing harm. Unintentional harm is part of every relationship. What matters is whether each person takes responsibility for recognizing that harm, repairing it, and learning how to reduce it over time.

When those efforts are not the general pattern, it is important to honestly reflect on whether the relationship is safe and whether you are truly compatible for the long term. A diagnosis should never be the reason someone stays in a relationship that is consistently harmful.

SiegePegasus's avatar

Suppose a partner behaving in ways similar to what you outlined here is looking for help in sorting things out to finally start corralling these abusive tendencies, and to hopefully reach a point finally where they're capable of giving and receiving love. I have no doubt the options are limited at best, but what might be the best approach(es) therapy-wise for those who check all the boxes for both ASD and NPD?

Jodi Carlton, MEd's avatar

That is an important question, and I think the answer depends on why the abusive behavior is occurring.

If someone genuinely wants to stop hurting the people they love, therapy should focus on developing self-awareness, taking accountability without defensiveness, building empathy, and making meaningful, sustained behavioral changes. Those qualities matter far more than any specific therapeutic approach.

If the abusive behavior stems from narcissism, however, therapy is not likely to be beneficial. Narcissists control what the therapist knows, minimize or omit their own behavior, and portray themselves as the victim. It is often beneficial for a therapist to meet with both partners initially, or periodically, to gain a more balanced understanding of the relationship, even if the abusive individual is the primary client.

One pattern I have observed is that an autistic person who is genuinely benefiting from therapy tends to stay engaged, even when the work is difficult. A narcissist, on the other hand, may use therapy to reinforce their image (“See, I’m getting help”), and their abuse ("my therapist said you're the abusive one"). If a therapist begins consistently holding them accountable, they will disengage from treatment or seek out a therapist who is easier to convince.

Ultimately, the best predictor of change is not whether someone says they want help or even attends therapy. It is whether they consistently accept responsibility and demonstrate lasting change outside the therapy office.

Camden McDaris Black's avatar

This is an INCREDIBLE essay. I could write my own essay in response re how relatable every part of this was to me. While my experiences do not exactly mirror yours, they are so close that I wanted to call a few of them out:

1) Being the child of a narcissist. I was waiting for you to say this as I was reading, because all of your responses were so "textbook" (as I have come to learn through my own C-PTSD self-awareness journey). Where other people see red flags, we find ways to give the benefit of the doubt, justify, look at what WE did wrong (again, I've got some zingers on this one - especially vis-a-vis my romantic partnerships).

2) The complexity of multiple diagnoses/realizations. My marriage to an ADHD/Narcissist with Bi-polarity was rife with that. Then my subsequent five-year relationship with someone with severe C-PTSD (also ADHD) presented its own set of major challenges. All the while, my undiagnosed AuADHD/C-PTSD-laden self was just trying to "be the most supportive partner I could be" and "learn from my own mistakes" - never ONCE trusting my instincts. 😬

I'l stop there, but again, this essay could not possibly be more relatable. Thank you so much for sharing your story, and please take comfort and pride in your success at extracting yourself from that situation. It has happened to SO MANY OF US in some form or another.

Jodi Carlton, MEd's avatar

Hi Camden, and thank you for sharing your own experience with this. Over the years, as I've worked with individuals and couples, I've seen a clear pattern in these relationships with narcissists that is wildly similar from one to the next. Neurodivergence adds a layer that creates complexity for many people and therapists, making these dynamics very difficult to understand. Although this article is 100% my own story, it resonates with people like you because it's the same pattern - just different people. My hope is that, by sharing my story, more and more people like you will feel seen and begin to share theirs. Like you said, it has happened to so many of us! We are not alone, though. We are survivors. And together we can heal and thrive. 💛 💪 Thank you for being here!

Sarah J Wright's avatar

Thank you for noticing this, and naming it. My husband and I tried going through a book about ADHD in marriage together and both of us noticed stories described that seemed more abusive (gaslighting, lying, belittling) than neurodiverse. To that author's credit, these characteristics came up in both the ADHD and non-ADHD spouses. But we deliberately decided not to finish the book (not because of ADHD!) because I just couldn't take advice from someone who didn't notice and call out frankly abusive patterns.

Jodi Carlton, MEd's avatar

Thanks for sharing your experience with the book. So many therapists (and authors) are not trained to recognize abuse and then do unintentional harm when trying to help - they mean well, and I’m not criticizing them. I certainly had no training in narcissistic abuse (narcississm, like autism was a chapter in a textbook, in a course), and I hear this regularly from my colleagues. Unfortunately, a lot of people don’t know to stop reading like you and your husband did - or that a therapist/coach is not recognizing the abuse. My goal is to educate and equip people (and professionals) to understand what they’re experiencing. Thanks for reading, and for contributing to this conversation. :)

Elsa Wahlstrom's avatar

Holy buckets. I thought I was the only one who experienced this. My situation was complicated by the fact that I am autistic myself, so I could empathize with his point of view from personal experience and didn’t notice he was being cruel. Thank you for sharing this.

Tabitha M. Johnson's avatar

Very excellent article! Lovebombing is such an insidious practice. Been there, done that, won't ever do it again!

Jodi Carlton, MEd's avatar

Although it's horrible to experience, part of our healing is being empowered to spot it in the future. Thanks for reading.

Sarah Box's avatar

Thank you for sharing. I feel that I am autistic, although not formally diagnosed, and it does seem to run in my family. I believe my biological father had Asperger's, or high-functioning autism. That's part, but not all, of the reason that my siblings and I were taken away and put in foster care before later being put up for adoption. I also had an ex-husband who was not autistic but seemed to be somewhat narcissistic. When the abuse got physical and I didn't see much improvement is when I decided to agree to a divorce. It was hard, but probably for the best. Now I am in another marriage; my new husband isn't perfect either, but he has never physically harmed me. That is a plus. My autistic traits and/or other rigid behaviors of my own make me not always the best partner, and I'm sure I have frustrated my spouses as well. But I don't think I intentionally hurt them. It usually just comes from what I feel is self-preservation or a lack of self-control.

erin's avatar

Mirrors much of my experience. Also grew up with a narcissistic father (and a clueless, martyred mother).

I began to look for clues of what was wrong early in our relationship with my husband, But in pre-internet days, there was little. I found clues, but the true realization never came.

A number of years after our divorce, I reconnected with my aged father, and he resumed his abusive behavior. What made the big difference for me was running it by family friends, and them knowing he was flat out lying. They knew the other side of his stories. Then I began to look once more (it was so crazy, what he did), and I finally came across some books that opened my eyes. There is malice in the world, and if you have been taught not to see it, as many of us are, waking up from that reality is hard. But what a difference it made in my life! :-) Such sudden clarify! But it took me several years to learn new behaviors built on my new enlightenment.

Many shrinks make it difficult for people to wake up -- they themselves pander to the myth that "everybody is good deep down." Explaining personal attacks by claiming they are "defensive mechanisms of a tormented soul" rather than predatory strategies provides more cover for the tormentors.

Thank you!

Jodi Carlton, MEd's avatar

Your journey is relatable for me, as well. I grew up with a narcissistic father and even got a degree in psychology and then a masters in counseling. None of this really taught me how narcissistic abuse is experienced by the victims of it. The point you raised about therapy framing predatory behavior as 'defensive mechanisms of a tormented soul' is something I continue to see in the psychological community - there is strong resistance to labeling a person as "an abuser," and way too often a focus is placed on preserving a relationship or marriage than recognizing the abuse and helping a victim escape safely. I see this as a problem with both genders - many men are victims of narcissistic abuse as well. Therapists aren't the bad guys - they are following their training. We have to continue working toward education, awareness, and permission to call a duck a duck. I'm glad you eventually found your way to clarity, even though it took far longer than it should have.

erin's avatar

Good to hear from you. Yes, it took far too long! But better late than never.

The first book that woke me up was a book written by a woman who had extensive training in assertiveness, and yet when one of her relatives turned on her during a difficult time, she was defenceless. And then I discovered Lundy Bancroft, Pat Evans, Dr George Simon, and an obscure self-taught coach Ben Leichtling. They were key. What a ride! No more clueless victim. The only pain that remains is that most people refuse to see. And when I try to point out the omission on some therapist's substack, then refuse to talk about it. Not all though. I think the culture as a whole will wake up -- there are so many personality disordered people out and about nowadays, it's become harder and harder to not see.

Thank you for your resonant comment. :-)

Hanging by a Thread's avatar

This was really hard to read, and made me cry. I'm autistic; my ex partner is definitely neurodiverse, beyond that, I have no idea what's wrong with him. I know he's a fantasist who, I think, "created" a self that he thought I wanted; he began to mirror my tastes and my personality. Initially, it made me feel safe, at a time when I was vulnerable (having just come from a brief but abusive relationship). But over time, it started to become obvious that so much of who he is was a construct, designed to make me overlook any fears I had about our relationship (and there were many).

He started to refer to me, constantly, as "little miss autistic", and said that he purposely did petty things to trigger me. Last year, I had two major surgeries, and I was crying in pain one day not long after the second one, and he told me "I don't know why, but I find you being in pain really funny".

He told me his father tried to murder him when he was four, and his mother stood by and watched - then he introduced me to his mother, who clearly wasn't what he'd portrayed.

He told me he'd "experimented" with his sexuality. It turns out he's been "experimenting" with men from age 17 until now (his forties), including having at least one active membership on a gay sex hookup website.

He told me he had a relationship with an older man at 15, but he later changed it to "groomed at 13", then decided it was an attempted rape, and he was 9. The utterly terrifying thing about that is that he was reflecting back my own abuse story - I was attacked at 9. Not him.

I threw him out in February, after discovering he'd spent my life savings while I was recovering from my second surgery.

Jodi Carlton, MEd's avatar

What you've shared is extraordinarily heavy, and I want to honor that you trusted this space with it. What you're describing — the mirroring, the fabricated trauma that reflected your own, the deliberate cruelty while you were physically vulnerable, the financial violation — these are not features of autism. They point toward something far more intentional and predatory. You asked what was wrong with him; that may be a question only a thorough clinical evaluation could answer, but what's clear is that you were targeted, not just misunderstood. I'm so glad he's gone and I hope you are well supported in your healing and recovery.

Marie's avatar

If he withdraws for over a month after a shutdown. So no communication at all for 5 weeks. Is that autism or something else?

Jodi Carlton, MEd's avatar

Based on that behavior alone, it is impossible to know. Some autistic people do withdraw during periods of overwhelm or shutdown, but disappearing without any communication for five weeks is not something I would automatically attribute to autism.

Rather than asking, “Is this autism?” I would ask, “Is this healthy and sustainable for me?” Regardless of the reason, going silent for five weeks is painful for most partners and deserves to be addressed.

River Clarion's avatar

Does that sort of behavior bother you? You don't have to stay with someone who does that, even if they're autistic.