Relationships: Valentine’s Special with Cerys and Hannah

"It works for us and that’s what matters."

This Valentine’s, Cerys and Hannah sat down to chat about love, relationships, and all the nuances that come with navigating these as neurodivergent people. From feeling truly safe with a partner, to breaking down misconceptions, we explore our differences and commonalities when it comes to relationships.

Most importantly, we both brought up ‘safety’ in our relationship and what it means to us. Too many of us spend our lives feeling on edge, constantly managing our nervous systems. A relationship should be a place where we don’t have to do that – a place where we are understood, supported, and accepted for exactly who we are.

Hannah: Happy Valentine’s Day, Cerys! I’ve got to ask, what does a good relationship look like for you?

I know that a good relationship is very subjective, but for me, a good relationship feels like a space where I don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. It took a long time to find my ‘good’ relationship, and whilst ‘good’ will never fully describe how safe, embraced, and positive I feel with my partner, this is what I always wanted it to look like.

It looks like a dynamic where there is mutual respect, endless admiration, constant support, and a little bubble away from the world where you feel safe. I think safety is something we’ve both mentioned before (and mention here today) which I think is important to highlight. Autistic people are at a higher risk of interpersonal victimisation and abuse[1], so a feeling of safety in my relationship is vital and is something I have been very conscious of when previously dating.

I don’t need a protector, but I do need someone who provides a safe, empowering, and loving environment for us to grow in together. I’m very fortunate to have a relationship where this is the case and more. I feel entirely myself around him, no airs and graces, to the point where people have even commented on how we could be ‘too comfortable’ around one another. I don’t believe in this as an idea at all, and I think that the ‘too comfortable’ concept can create a counterintuitive dynamic in a relationship, making you insecure about not being insecure. But, each to their own, and this is what ‘good’ looks and feels like to me.

Hannah: Did getting a diagnosis have an impact on your relationship?

I don’t think it impacted our relationship as such as he always suspected I was autistic even before the diagnosis, but I think it has brought a lot of positives.

We talk openly about our personal issues and challenges, looking to address any barriers that might crop up because of our neurodivergence. I think that is the biggest positive that has come from this: having a new space in our relationship where we can discuss specific issues I’m facing and how we overcome them, and the same goes for him. I would say it’s made us more open-minded and willing to re-learn one another in some ways, acknowledging we have difficulties that can’t be wished away.

Hannah: What are some of the challenges you’ve faced in cross-neurotype relationships?

I kind of love this question, as it’s something my partner and I laugh about a lot. We say that our minds either work perfectly together and are completely in sync, or it’s as though they’re in a warzone. There often isn’t an in-between and we feel like we bounce between the two, but this is just part of our dynamic and I honestly don’t think I would change it.

My partner has ADHD so our brains work quite differently when it comes to planning, organising, and scheduling. I feel calm when I’ve planned something to a T, prepared for almost all outcomes, know the exact timings for the day, and know every single detail. However, J likes to be a bit more spontaneous, having rough plans and lots of ideas floating around that he can grab when he wants them. I’d say this is the biggest challenge we face; however, we try to be very patient with one another and we respect when one of us raises an issue, especially if it’s regarding communication.

One thing we’ve had to learn – as with all relationships – is that compromise is well and truly key. I can’t always plan everything down to the finest detail as even I must admit that it takes some of the fun out of it. Please don’t get me wrong, compromise is difficult, and we’ve had more than our fair share of arguments. No relationship is picture perfect, but I can give a nice example of how we compromise:

I don’t hugely love going abroad for a whole range of reasons. I would do anything to be someone who goes travelling for six months or books a last-minute holiday, but this isn’t me and I can’t keep making myself do things that cause distress.

So, we compromise.

If we go abroad, J plans things to the T before presenting the idea to me. He locates places to stay, saves all the details and the pictures, finds restaurants he thinks I would like, figures out the exact travel timings and forms of transport required, comes up with ideas for daytrips and activities. He does all of this before even presenting the idea to me, because as much as it sucks a bit of the fun out, it means I can look at the holiday as a whole rather than all these separate little details I need to tie together. Some of the stress is taken away.

Hannah: What are some of the misconceptions around neurodivergence and relationships you’d like to debunk?

One is that autistic people can’t be or shouldn’t be in relationships – especially with non-autistic people. Not only is this entirely incorrect, but it also pushes an ableist narrative that autistic people see, believe, and internalise. Whilst acknowledged earlier that autistic people are at increased risk of harm in interpersonal relationships, this awareness has to be balanced alongside ensuring romantic and sexual agency. Without delving too into it (because I could go on forever!) we have to ensure that everyone receives appropriate education, support, and guidance on healthy relationships, without drawing a line in the sand for some disabled people.

I think another is that relationships have to ‘look’ a certain way. As we both explore, relationships ‘look’ different to everyone and are very subjective. My relationship pivots on safety, security, respect, and love for one another. This includes times where we do entirely separate things, where we have different interests, and times where we do everything together. This changes and it never looks the same, but it always feels the same, even when our minds work differently and some challenges do arise. Cross-neurotype relationships are more than possible, but it’s about what works for you.

Cerys: It's your turn now, Hannah! Firstly, similar to what you asked , what does a good relationship feel and look like to you?

Whether it comes to friendship or romantic relationships, for me feeling safe to be myself is key. There are very few people I’ve ever felt comfortable enough around to really be myself, so when I find someone who I can be authentic with it’s a big deal.

I often find being around other people exhausting, so finding someone who I genuinely want to spend my time with is rare and special when it happens.

I don’t do small talk. I can do it when required, but it’s hard work and I don’t understand the point. So in a relationship I don’t want that. I want someone who I can talk to for hours on end about the big things. And someone who will listen to me infodump to them about the things I love. Someone who is passionate about things as well, which don’t have to be the same as the things I am. I just love listening to someone talk about things they really care about.

Cerys: Is there anything you have found difficult in relationships due to neurodivergence? Is there anything that didn’t ‘make sense’?

I think being undiagnosed in the past has had a negative impact on my relationships of all kinds. Not knowing a vital thing about myself meant I struggled to understand who I was or what worked for me. I didn’t like myself or really know myself, and that makes it difficult to have healthy relationships with other people. I always thought I was the problem, and I probably stayed in some unhealthy relationships for longer than I should have done.

In terms of being autistic, I know there are things I do that can be frustrating for a partner. I tend to get stuck on things, especially problems that don’t have an easy solution. I’ll ruminate for weeks or months on a problem, and I tend to want to talk through the issue, which can be hard. I can be blunt and say things very directly. That has definitely caused issues in the past. Learning how to communicate well across neurotypes is an ongoing learning exercise for me and my husband.

I’m also not very social, or at least, I socialise in a less common way. I don’t like big groups of people, and I prefer to spend time with a small number of people. In relationships, I generally want to spend my time either with my partner or by myself. I think to a lot of people looking in that could seem co-dependent and unhealthy. I used to worry that too. But it works for me and I’m starting to realise that the only people who really get to have opinions on a relationship are the people who are in it. It works for us and that’s what matters.

Something else, which is an uncomfortable topic to touch on but important, is the imbalance I sometimes feel in my relationship. My husband and I have a pretty good balance of supporting each other, sharing chores and life admin, financial input etc., but I’m conscious that under the surface it’s not as simple as it looks. There are things I’ll do more of, and things he’ll help out with. But the things I do, he could just as easily do himself instead. Whereas some of the things that he picks up, I’d struggle to do if he didn’t. That sometimes makes me feel uncomfortable, as I hate to feel reliant on anyone, no matter how much reassurance he gives me.

In terms of things that don’t make sense, I’ve never really understood the concept of opposites attracting. I need to have things in common with someone to be able to build a connection. Not everything, but enough to feel like we are on the same page.

Also, this might be controversial, but so many people talk about how relationships are tough and take lots of work – there’s a common narrative that you have to almost push through and put up in long-term relationships. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think everything has to, or will be, perfect all the time, but from past experience, when things feel really hard in a relationship, it’s generally because it isn’t the right person. Life is hard, a lot of the time, but the person you’re with should make that better, not worse.

Another common trope is that if you’re not sharing a bed, there must be problems in the relationship. I struggle with sleep and always have. I’m a terrible sleeper and have to have very specific conditions and routines at bedtime. I often can’t sleep with someone else in the room. I struggled with feeling guilty about this for years, but speaking with other autistic folk it isn’t that uncommon for us to struggle with sleeping around others.

Cerys: Is there a thought or feeling you associate with ‘safety’ in your relationship?

The idea of feeling safe is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. I spend a huge proportion of my life with my nervous system telling me that I’m not safe. I’m in fight or flight mode on a daily basis and it’s something that has become so normal to me that I often don’t even realise how on edge I am.

For me, a relationship is my safe place, or it should be. Knowing someone has your back no matter what and will always be on your team is really important. For me, my husband isn’t autistic, and he’ll never fully understand a lot of things I feel or experience, but he gets me in a way that no one else ever has and he is always there. We met before I was diagnosed, and even when I had no words or explanation for so many of the things that I struggled with, he just accepted me the way I am and loved me for all of me. That is safety for me, someone who loves me for me, not despite of various things I might struggle with.

Cerys: How do you feel about Valentine’s Day and why?

I’m honestly not a huge fan. I wouldn’t say I’m a romantic and I don’t like the commercialism of it. Also, it falls two days after my birthday so there’s an extra layer to my frustration as it usually means trying to book to go out for my birthday is harder. But my husband and I always give each other cards and I do like that. February is actually a big month for us – both of our birthdays, Valentine’s Day and our wedding anniversary all fall within 2 weeks. So it’s a nice time to look forward to, especially when the weather is bad and January feels like it has at least 15 weeks to it!

I worry as well that there’s a sense of competition and almost showing off people’s ‘fantastic relationships’ around Valentine’s Day, and it can often make people who aren’t in relationships feel bad. I’m very aware of how common loneliness is in the autistic community, so anything that is liable to make that worse for people makes me feel uncomfortable.

[1] Douglas, S. and Sedgewick, F., 2024. Experiences of interpersonal victimization and abuse among autistic people. Autism, 28(7), pp.1732-1745.