I have been thinking about masking a lot recently. As someone who obtained a late diagnosis, masking has become an integral part of my day-to-day social interactions, and maintaining my ‘mask‘ can be exhausting—both mentally and emotionally.

As a neurodivergent Christian, Sunday services can be stressful for me due to the sheer volume of social demand. I’ve wondered if other neurodivergent Christians struggle to experience deep, meaningful fellowship with other believers during Sunday services like I do.

Smile For The Camera

During a visit to my parents, I happened to stumble across a few of my old baby and childhood albums, which reminded me of how I refused to smile for posed photos when I was a little kid. Regardless of coaxing, bribery, or frustration, nothing could win me over. I was resolute.

As I grew up and began ‘masking,’ I learned that smiling was just something people do when a camera is pointed at them. But I rarely liked the way my face looked in photos. I felt disconnected, as if the face smiling in the photograph somehow didn’t belong to me. Looking at myself in those pictures made me feel self-conscious and embarrassed. It took me a long time to realize the reason for my feelings of awkwardness—those posed photos captured my ‘mask,’ not the real me.

Flipping through my old baby albums, I laughed while remembering how “little Hannah” liked having her picture taken but hated being forced to smile and put on false reactions. I felt incredibly proud of that little girl who didn’t care what anyone thought of her or if they misinterpreted her actions and emotions. And now, 20 years later, she’s still teaching me valuable lessons.

As an adult, some of my favorite pictures are candid shots taken when I wasn’t smiling or in moments when my smile was genuine. It’s unfortunate that even for something as simple as taking a picture, I still feel immense pressure to hide behind my ‘masking.’

Looking through those old photos made me wonder how much masking affects my experience when I’m at church. I realized that hiding behind carefully curated facial expressions and reactions often hinders spiritual fellowship with others. Not only is it difficult to build new connections and contribute to the church community on Sundays, but all my energy is focused on masking, which often leaves me feeling completely depleted afterward.

The Intricacies of Masking

Before diving into the main point of this post, let me explain what ‘masking’ is in case anyone reading is unfamiliar with the term.

For example, as an AuDHD person, I often struggle with feeling awkward and incredibly self-conscious in photos. It’s not because I worry about not looking good but rather because I’m never entirely sure if I’m ‘doing it right.’ The same applies to conversations with strangers, friends, and even family—the thought of not ‘doing it right’ fills me with anxiety and makes me hyper-aware of my communication differences.

I constantly ask myself:

• Am I smiling too much or too little?
• Am I reacting with the correct expressions and emotional responses?
• Is my body language telling the other person that I am engaged in this conversation?
• What is their body language telling me?
• Am I making the right amount of eye contact?
• Am I speaking too much or too little?
• Am I missing any social cues?
• Is my tone appropriate?

These thoughts constantly swirl in my mind, preventing me from fully engaging and connecting with others. I feel the need to filter and modify my behavior to fit the expectations of those around me. While this may help me navigate certain social situations, it also disconnects me from expressing my true self and building genuine connections with others.

The reason masking can be harmful is that its nature effectively minimizes the masker’s mental, physical, and emotional needs, as well as their ability to authentically connect with others. Masking teaches us to ignore our inner voice and attend to the expectations and approval of other people, to the detriment of our own health and well-being.

Neurodivergent Christians and The Challenges of Masking

Church services often involve navigating a series of social rules, including greetings, small talk, and group interactions. While these activities come naturally to some, they can be incredibly challenging for neurodivergent individuals who rely on masking. Before the sermon even begins, we may find ourselves mentally and emotionally drained.

Masking requires a tremendous amount of mental and emotional energy. When this stress is coupled with sensory triggers or anxiety, my capacity to manage the barrage of information bombarding my brain and nervous system is greatly diminished. Personally, when I’m overstimulated or tired, forcing myself to continue being expressive becomes incredibly stressful. Moreover, determining the appropriate expressions in a conversation can leave me feeling anxious and overwhelmed.

Attending Sunday services can feel like walking a tightrope. I strive to maintain a carefully constructed facade while grappling with the anxiety of potential social missteps. It becomes a delicate balancing act: appearing engaged, avoiding drawing too much attention to myself, and trying to keep my focus on God. All the while, my energy reserves deplete rapidly.

When my battery is fully charged, I’m a highly expressive and social person. However, various factors come into play that determine the sustainability of my energy levels. Oftentimes, the interactive nature of a Sunday service becomes too overwhelming for me to handle.

As an autistic individual, it is important to note that not smiling doesn’t necessarily indicate that I’m unhappy, angry, sad, or upset. Most of the time, it simply means “I’m not smiling.”

However, a slip in masking is usually met with—a well-meant but entirely frustrating—”You look like you need prayer. What’s going on in your life? Are you anxious, depressed, upset, etc?” Don’t get me wrong, this is also one of the most incredible things about being in a church with a caring community. However, when I’m overwhelmed, the last thing I want is to feel like my face is under a microscope.

I want to emphasize that this isn’t a critique of the church or its practices. Rather, it’s an invitation to acknowledge and understand the unique struggles faced by neurodivergent individuals within the church community and provide encouragement.

Fostering Meaningful Fellowship for Neurodivergent Christians

Hebrews 10:24-25 (ESV) says, “And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.” This passage reminds us of the importance of gathering with fellow believers and spurring each other on in love and good deeds.

Acts 2:46-47 (ESV) speaks of believers meeting together in homes and breaking bread with glad and generous hearts, highlighting the value of close-knit gatherings.

The bottom line, friends, is that Sundays are only one way to fellowship and grow in your faith. But it is not the only way, and it’s certainly not the only way that the early church fellowshipped.

Alternate Ways To Fellowship With Neurodivergence in Mind

For neurodivergent believers, finding ways to engage in Christian fellowship may require some adjustments and self-care strategies.

Instead of going to large church services every week, I personally prefer to be in small group settings. I have found that I feel more comfortable letting my guard down and being my authentic self. This allows me to not only be a part of my church community but also gives me space to share my gifts with others.

A few ways I choose to be a part of my church community rather than attending every Sunday service are by:

1. Seeking out smaller group settings: I chose to join Bible studies and prayer groups where I can connect with a smaller number of people in a more intimate and relaxed setting. If you don’t have a small group available to you, might want to consider starting one yourself, how fun would that be!
2. Communicating my needs: I do my best to express my unique needs and preferences to those around me. I communicate with people I trust about my sensory sensitivities, social challenges, and if I need any breaks during larger or busier gatherings.
3. Participating in service opportunities: I love to be a part of church activities that align with my strengths and interests. Offering my skills, talents, or time for church events or projects provides me with a sense of belonging and creates opportunities for meaningful connections with fellow believers.
4. Connecting with other ‘neuro-spicy’ Christians: Creating a group or just being open about my spicy self has connected me with so many great people that share many of the same struggles I do. Being able to create a safe space for others to share their experiences and build supportive relationships with Godly people has been such an awesome experience!

Remember, fellowship is not limited to traditional Sunday services. As 1 Thessalonians 5:11 (ESV) encourages us, “Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.”

By embracing different forms of fellowship and actively participating in community life, we can nurture our faith and strengthen our relationships with fellow believers.

Embracing Diverse Paths of Fellowship: Beyond Sunday Services

Neurospicy church fam, not going to church on Sunday isn’t going to make you a bad Christian, and it won’t hinder your relationship with God. The Bible never stated that fellowship could only happen once a week on a Sunday. Instead, scripture encourages us to get together with fellow believers in Christ to strengthen, encourage, and pray with one another. That, my friends, is true Christian fellowship.

This is why, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve started attending Bible studies and small group church meetings more often than the regularly scheduled Sunday worship and sermon. And that is perfectly OKAY!

Remember, YOU are fearfully and wonderfully designed by God. He didn’t make any mistakes creating you. He wouldn’t have put you at a disadvantage to praise and serve Him, and He wouldn’t have created a system of fellowship that would cause you pain. He knows exactly what you need to thrive. All the Bible asks of us, in terms of fellowship, is that we get together with other believers in Christ, even if it’s just one or two more people sometimes, to pray, grow in scripture, and support each other. If Sunday services are putting a strain on your mental health, you are allowed to fellowship in a different way.

Be blessed, friends.