Embracing alone time in the festive season
Festivities and holidays can be extremely difficult for Autistic and otherwise Neurodivergent people for a variety of reasons; with the way they cause so much change and differences in sensory input and an increase in social situations. For me, I am wholeheartedly of the belief that we would all be happier people during the festive season, Neurodivergent or not, if we allowed ourselves to have more alone time.
Everyone has sensory needs – although sensory sensitivity tends to be much more elevated in Autistic people and is a key part of how we experience the world differently, everyone has a sensory system that reacts to aspects of input. We see people who don’t like the texture of cheese, or the sound of chalk on a chalkboard, or they are searching out to touch soft blankets or drink carbonated drinks.
During festivities, we so commonly see family tensions that can be attributed often to a lack of care for these needs. A family spending several days on top of each other, eating different foods to normal, spaces being busy or loud or filled with music and bright lights. My theory is that we would all be happier during the festive season if we acknowledged just how overwhelming it can be and gave each other room to spend some time away and alone.
For Autistic people, this is especially true and backed up by a recent paper by Neville et al (2024) on our need for alone time. We might need increased alone time for a variety of reasons, including reactions to or retreats from sensory and social overwhelm, as well as regulation and recovery. For many, this is crucial in order to avoid constant burnout and meltdowns, shutdowns or panic, and spending such time away is really the only way to recharge in order to re-engage with the input later on.
This should not be seen as a deficit or a negative. We live in a society where social interaction is valued more in some formats than others, and where the ways Autistic people might search for community in alternative ways is not part of that vision, meaning our need for alone time or our experiences of making social life work for us is seen as inherently wrong.
I grew up being told I was an introvert, and I always agreed to an extent – the definition of being an introvert surrounds alone time and shorter-term social engagement, so I must be, right? But for me, there will always be a question: am I truly an introvert, or is society so inaccessible that I am never given the opportunity to be extroverted?
Masking in social situations is always exhausting, but this can be particularly true during festive seasons where we are placed in more intense social interactions, like having to talk to family that does not understand you or that you don’t get on with, or the intensity that can come with people observing you as you open presents.
There is a pressure that comes with festive seasons that you must be able to engage consistently, that you should enjoy it, and that you should accept that your entire routine is upended (and our structure and routines are often still upended even if you don’t celebrate Christmas or New Year, as much of society fully shuts down). It can be difficult to justify or advocate for any alone time or to find capacity for it.
But, for many of us, it is truly crucial, and it should be seen as an accessibility tool. It’s something we can build into our lives and is something that should be embraced by those around us. If something means we are healthier and happier, even if it means we aren’t present 100% of the time, shouldn’t that be seen as a positive?
It cannot be underestimated just how much sensory and social input there is during the festive seasons, and as Neville et al explore, such juggling alongside masking can result in all sorts of difficulties including exhaustion, irritability, discomfort, executive function difficulties, and burnout.
Therefore, this festive season, my challenge to myself – and to you, if you want – is to fully embrace what alone time can give me. I refuse to put myself under any significant pressure to be highly masked or stressed just for the comfort of others. I want to push myself to make more structure and routine even amongst all the chaos and change, and to be unapologetic about when I don’t feel I want to engage with anything. I will use my tools for sensory regulation and my hobbies and make more room for the parts of the season I do enjoy.
I will always find “the happiest time of the year” to be something that provides me more stress and discomfort – but perhaps, there are ways to ease that which we should all be embracing.
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