“My whole life has been a process of finding labels that fit”: A Thematic Analysis of Autistic LGBTQIA+ Identity and Inclusion in the LGBTQIA+ Community

Abstract

Background:

Being nonheterosexual and noncisgender appears to be more common among autistic people. This intersection of identities is often stigmatized in research and society. However, we know that community involvement can protect against negative mental health outcomes associated with being a minority; researchers found this effect in separate studies examining participation in the autistic and Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans, Queer, Intersex, Asexual plus other gender and sexual orientation-based identity (LGBTQIA+) communities. This study examined how autistic LGBTQIA+ individuals navigate their multiple marginalized identities and the LGBTQIA+ community.

Methods:

Twelve autistic LGBTQIA+ people from the United Kingdom took part in semistructured interviews. Questions focused on identity and community. We analyzed the interviews using reflexive thematic analysis.

Results:

We identified four overarching themes—Identity (Re)Development, Navigating Authenticity, Exclusion from Community Spaces, and Creating Change. Participants viewed accessing a community of similar others as a means of increasing understanding, self-knowledge, and self-acceptance. We identified several barriers to inclusion, including accessibility and gatekeeping. Participants discussed strategies to combat these obstacles, such as the creation of intersectional community spaces and activism and representation as a means of increasing autism understanding.

Conclusions:

This study suggests that similar to other marginalized groups, autistic LGBTQIA+ individuals are motivated to engage in communities relevant to their identities. However, community spaces for autistic LGBTQIA+ are often inaccessible due to social, sensory, and identity-based barriers. Participants highlighted autism understanding as a barrier to coming out both in community and noncommunity settings. This suggests that improving autism acceptance and understanding is crucial to achieve accessible, intersectional, and inclusive community spaces.

Community brief

Why is this an important issue?

Autistic people are more likely to be part of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, Intersex, Asexual plus other gender- or sexual orientation-based identity (LGBTQIA+) communities. Being part of a community may boost well-being. Because of a history of viewing autistic and LGBTQIA+ identities in a negative medicalized way, we have limited understanding of autistic people's experiences of having both identities and being part of both communities. We think everyone could listen and learn more from autistic LGBTQIA+ people and think about ways of creating accessible spaces where autistic LGBTQIA+ people can flourish.

What was the purpose of this study?

We looked at autistic LGBTQIA+ people's experiences of the LGBTQIA+ community. We were also interested in understanding how autistic LGBTQIA+ people experienced their different identities (e.g., being both autistic and LGBTQIA+, and how these connect).

What did the researchers do?

We developed interview questions with a trans autistic collaborator. The questions were about experiences and identities as an autistic LGBTQIA+ person and getting involved in communities. We did interviews with 12 LGBTQIA+ autistic adults from the United Kingdom, who were diverse in age, gender identity, and sexuality. We then identified patterns in what the interviewees said.

What were the results?

Interviewees talked about how they had made sense of “who they were” over time and tried to be true to themselves. However, they mentioned many barriers when trying to access the LGBTQIA+ community. These barriers included community spaces that were overwhelming in social and sensory ways. Although nonautistic LGBTQIA+ individuals might welcome autistic people into the community, they did not really understand autism. Interviewees were also concerned about “gatekeeping,” which means that some LGBTQIA+ community members decided who belonged in the community. Despite these barriers, interviewees still wanted to be part of LGBTQIA+ communities and suggested solutions, such as flexible online spaces, more autistic LGBTQIA+ role models, and fighting for change in society.

What do these findings add to what was already known?

These findings help us to better understand a topic there is not much research on—the experiences of autistic LGBTQIA+ people. Our findings tell us about how our interviewees came to appreciate their different identities, and the benefits and challenges of being included in LGBTQIA+ communities.

What are potential weaknesses in the study?

Our findings reflect the experiences of a small group of people in the United Kingdom, so their experiences will not apply to everyone. Our group lacked diversity in some ways—all interviewees were White and no one reported having a co-occurring learning disability. We do not know how our findings would apply to people with other minority identities.

How will these findings help autistic adults now or in the future?

This study helps us better understand the experiences of autistic LGBTQIA+ people and the barriers they face. Community spaces specifically for autistic LGBTQIA+ could be good, to help people explore their identities and find similar people. These spaces need funding, and we must make sure that they are accessible to everyone, regardless of how they identify.

Background

Autistic people are more likely to be nonheterosexual and noncisgender, with many identifying as bisexual, transgender, or nonbinary.^1–3 Relationships and communities may play a key role in promoting mental well-being for many autistic people.⁴ However, access to a community may be impacted when someone has multiple intersecting minority or marginalized identities.⁵ When someone holds several marginalized identities, marginalization is arguably not additive—for example, misogynoir is not as simple as misogyny “plus” anti-Black racism.⁶ We can consider experiences through an intersectional lens, focusing on how an individual can face inequality and oppression in different forms based on different identities, with the idea of intersectionality originally related to race and gender within Black Feminist thought.⁶

Since its conception, intersectionality has been applied to the experiences of people at different intersections, such as disability, sexuality, social class, and ethnicity.^7–9 More recently, intersectionality has been applied within autism research, with Mallipeddi and VanDaalen¹⁰ pointing out the need for more autism researchers to apply an intersectional lens to their work. In line with this approach, we sought to examine the experiences of autistic Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans, Queer, Intersex, Asexual plus other gender and sexual orientation-based identity (LGBTQIA+)^* individuals—who will likely experience inequalities because they are both autistic and LGBTQIA+—and whether these particular minority identities impacted their opportunities for participation in the LGBTQIA+ community.

Marginalized individuals face a specific challenge when seeking to understand their identities in the context of a neuro-, gender-, and heteronormative environment.¹¹ The horizontal nature of LGBTQIA+ identities means that someone may not share these identities with one's parents and lacks exposure to the linguistic and symbolic culture, which accompanies identity development in a family context.^12,13 Harper et al.¹³ discussed the importance of community engagement as a means of assimilation into the LGBTQIA+ community, and studied this phenomenon in gay and bisexual male adolescents, noting community engagement reduced the impact of stigma.

For autistic people, the extent to which they accept their identity as autistic correlates with improved mental well-being and increased self-esteem.^14–16 Connectedness to the autistic community may act as a buffer between poor mental health and the stress associated with navigating a stigmatizing environment.¹⁷ This effect may be explained because of exposure to less deficit-focused identity-based messages in community settings.^18,19 Community connectedness has been shown to have benefits for nonautistic LGBTQIA+ individuals more broadly,^20,21 and higher collective self-esteem is associated with improved outcomes for transgender individuals.²² However, little is known about the importance of community participation for individuals who are both autistic and LGBTQIA+, and whether their multiple minority identities impact opportunities for community engagement.

The scant literature on LGBTQIA+ autistic individuals is often deficit focused,²³ within the context of autism science which has been constrained by the pathologization of autistic people and a history of ableism.^24,25 Little attention is paid to how dehumanizing stereotypes concerning autistic individuals, such as claims that they are socially disinterested, might impact the coming out process.²⁶ Within the dominant medical model approach,²⁷ prior research has sought to identify “risk factors” associated with the intersection of autistic and LGBTQIA+ identities, rather than potential benefits this intersection may confer, such as increased social opportunities.^23,28

The pathologization of identities at this intersection is also illustrated in research that seeks to discover a “cause” for this so-called “over-representation.”¹¹ Some researchers have attributed the origin of this intersection to social and sensory difficulties,^29,30 incomplete female socialization,³¹ reduced cognitive flexibility, and difficulties in mentalizing abilities.^32,33 This deficit focus ignores the opportunity for engagement on questions of binary genders and sexual essentialism,¹¹ and how this intersection could be a result of an increased interrogation of social norms relating to gender and sexuality in autistic people.³⁴

Recent qualitative studies have aimed to counter the deficit-based literature. Studies by Nachman et al.^35,36 attest to the difficulties experienced by autistic LGBTQIA+ individuals as they navigate predominately heteronormative and neuronormative universities. Studies have taken place with sections of the autistic and LGBTQIA+ communities, for example, looking at the experiences of autistic adults with gender dysphoria³⁷ or same-sex attraction in autistic individuals.³⁸

These studies reference the challenges encountered by autistic LGBTQIA+ individuals in terms of managing dual identities, and Coleman-Smith et al.³⁷ highlight how community support could be useful for alleviating this difficulty. In particular, the risk of invalidation for autistic LGBTQIA+ individuals is high.^39,40 Autistic LGBTQIA+ individuals are often disenfranchised and disbelieved when it comes to their identities, an experience mirrored in the academic literature, as well as in the views of parents of autistic gender-diverse children and the experiences of non-LGBTQIA+ autistic people.^39–41

The experiences of autistic LGBTQIA+ individuals are currently underexplored in research, and often interpreted through a pathological lens that views gender and sexuality as a deficit in understanding by autistic people.⁴² In light of this othering societal discourse, and the associated mental health impact of this, it is essential we explore access to community support in the autistic LGBTQIA+ population. Using interviews, our research aimed to examine how autistic LGBTQIA+ individuals experience and understand their multiple minority identities and whether their identities impact their opportunities for participation in the LGBTQIA+ community. Particularly, our research aimed to identify barriers to participation, to facilitate the creation of more inclusive and intersectional community spaces.

Methods

Participants

Twelve LGBTQIA+ autistic people from the United Kingdom participated. We recruited by posting adverts on social media, using purposive sampling⁴³ to ensure we recruited a range of participants with identities at various intersections of the LGBTQIA+ and autistic communities. Nine participants were formally diagnosed and three were self-identifying, all scoring above the cutoff of 14 on the Ritvo Autism and Aspergers Diagnostic Scale (RAADS-14).⁴⁴ The average age was 34 years (SD = 9.90, range: 24–53). Eight participants identified as White British, four were from other White backgrounds. Seven participants had undergraduate degrees, three had postgraduate degrees, one had high school and another “other” qualifications. Six were employed, three were students and three were unemployed. Table 1 shows further participant details and pseudonyms. We received ethical approval from the University of Stirling General University Ethics Delegated Authority.

Table 1.

Participant Demographic Information

Pseudonym	Age	Gender	Sexuality	Autism diagnosis
Naoise	27	Nonbinary	Queer	Diagnosed
Caleb	48	Man	Gay	Diagnosed
Adele	47	Woman	Bisexual	Diagnosed
Marianne	39	Woman	Bisexual	Diagnosed
Rowan	24	Nonbinary	Queer	Self-identifying
Julie	46	Woman	Queer	Diagnosed
Ben	45	Man	Gay	Diagnosed
Drew	53	Nonbinary/agender	Bisexual/asexuala	Diagnosed
Bo	24	Agender	Other/lesbiana	Self-identifying
Elliot	39	Man	Bisexual	Self-identifying
Juno	30	Nonbinary	Bisexual	Diagnosed
Mia	29	Woman	Bisexual	Diagnosed

All names are pseudonyms.

^a Where participants identified in a different manner in the preinterview questionnaire and the interview (Drew) or identified in a different manner after interview (Bo), we have included up-to-date information, while also acknowledging changes in the identity of these participants since identity categories are often fluid and not mutually exclusive.

Materials and procedure

After reading study information and providing consent, participants completed a preinterview questionnaire. This questionnaire included demographic questions and determined availability for the interviews, which took place in May and June 2020. Participants completed the RAADS-14,⁴⁴ to support self-reported diagnoses or self-identification for this study, where in-person validation was not possible due to financial and pandemic constraints. Most participants elected to view the interview schedule in advance.

We developed the semistructured interview schedule with a trans autistic collaborator to ensure we phrased the questions accessibly and appropriately. The interview schedule covered topics such as navigating dual identities (being both autistic and LGBTQIA+) and engaging with the LGBTQIA+ community, for example, “What communities do you feel part of?” and “In what ways have you experienced the LGBTQIA+ community?” To accommodate communication styles, we provided various interview options.⁴⁵ Seven participants did the interview through video call, three chose instant messaging and two opted for a phone call. We transcribed audio-recorded interviews verbatim and these had an average length of 44 minutes (range: 20–78 minutes). The mean number of words in text-based interviews was 2474. We sent an anonymized version of the transcript to each participant for their approval before analysis.

Methodology and analysis

We used reflexive thematic analysis to identify patterns of meaning across the data set.⁴⁶ This approach views the position of the researcher as an active participant in the interpretation of themes.⁴⁷ We analyzed transcripts inductively, using a data-driven approach,⁴⁸ coding data at the semantic level, in line with critical realism. Critical realism is at the intersection between epistemic relativism and realist ontology, acknowledging that although many of the participants' experiences are influenced by sociocultural factors, their perspectives are located within a communal unobservable reality.⁴⁹ This approach attends to how participants construe their experiences and the broader social reality.⁴⁶ Our interpretations are no doubt influenced by our alignment to the neurodiversity movement rather than the medical model.²⁷

In line with reflexive thematic analysis, we consider the subjectivity of the researcher to confer both advantages and disadvantages, rather than a bias to be removed.⁴⁷ The status of the first author as a nonautistic member of the LGBTQIA+ community meant the analysis was generated as an “outsider” to the autistic community and an “insider” to the LGBTQIA+ community.⁵⁰ Participatory approaches are vital when conducting research involving minoritized communities of which one is not a member.⁵¹ As such, the second author, who is an “insider” to both the autistic and LGBTQIA+ communities, provided feedback on the interview schedule, development of themes, and final article. However, due to time and funding constraints, more autistic involvement was not possible.

We followed the stages of thematic analysis outlined by Braun and Clarke⁴⁶—data familiarization, the generation of initial codes and subsequent development, refining and write-up of themes. We used NVivo 12 to collate data extracts to codes. Themes were produced in line with Patton's⁴⁸ principles of internal homogeneity and external heterogeneity, meaning final themes were internally consistent and sufficiently different from one another. The first author completed the interviews, transcription, and analysis, but all themes were discussed with the other authors at several points during analysis.

Results

We produced several iterations of the thematic map before arriving at the final version (Fig. 1). The Supplementary Data S1 contains further exemplary quotes for each theme. All names referred to are pseudonyms.

FIG. 1.

Thematic map showing the interrelation of the themes and subthemes. Image description: The image shows a diagram of all the themes and subthemes. Main themes are shown in four boxes across the top of the image. The first box on the left shows the main theme “identity (re)development” at the top. This box then links to other subthemes below it, with lines connecting them. These say: “awareness of difference,” “absence of framework,” “building up knowledge,” “identity affirmation,” and “making sense.” The next main theme is connected to the first box with an arrow. It says the theme is “navigating authenticity.” Beneath this, it is connected to the subthemes in boxes that say “self-acceptance,” “experiencing belonging,” “inter-minority solidarity,” “coming out,” and “(in)visibility.” The next main theme, also connected across the top by an arrow, is “exclusion from community spaces.” Underneath this is the connected subthemes boxes: “gatekeeping,” “accessibility,” and “rurality.” The final main theme across the top is “creating change.” Underneath this, are two subthemes, “fighting for equality” and “existence as rebellion.”

Theme 1: identity (re)development

This theme explored how participants built self-knowledge and confidence in their identity over time. The process of realizing their identity culminated in “making sense” of their experiences considering new frameworks they became aware of through community engagement. We noted several subthemes within this.

Subtheme 1: awareness of difference

Participants were aware of being different from an early age, although they often struggled to articulate why. As Adele stated, “I spent my life thinking I was broken in some way, and I just didn't fit in.” Participants viewed the process of understanding difference as a lifelong process, where someone may go through several labels and/or identities before finding ones that fit. This process was complicated by the need to understand being different along several dimensions, such as sexuality, gender, and neurodiversity. Caleb reported the complexity of this process led to him misattributing and “think[ing] oh I don't fit in because I'm gay” when in fact he came to realize it was due to being autistic, a process he admitted “could have made me have real problems with being gay and thinking this is why I don't get on with people.” Adele reported being aware of her differences but actively not pursuing knowledge in relation to it as she was “focused on just fitting in…and conforming to what was needed of me.”

Subtheme 2: absence of a framework

Another aspect which built upon awareness of difference was how participants felt that they lacked a framework or point of reference for understanding themselves. Often, participants reported few role models during the formative stages of their identity development: “When I was growing up, I didn't know what a trans person was…I knew they existed, but I didn't really understand it…how people actually transition…then I found out about how it actually works…I realised that maybe I could do something about it” (Juno).

Similarly, in terms of being autistic, participants spoke about how lack of accurate representation inhibited their identity development, particularly if other identities did not coalesce with stereotypes about autism: “I'd heard of autism when I was younger…[the resources that existed were] aimed at men…I couldn't identify myself with it” (Julie). Participants also expressed concerns about LGBTQIA+ representation: “When I was growing up, there weren't gay role models, they didn't exist…[they] were just caricatures of camp gay men” (Caleb). Participants discussed how inaccurate representation limited their ability to see themselves inhabiting certain identities: “Lack of representation definitely made it more difficult…queer people tend to be represented in specific ways, which may not align with who I am, so I just didn't think it was a possibility” (Rowan).

Subtheme 3: building up knowledge

Without frameworks to understand their differences, participants had to find alternative ways of building up their knowledge and self-understanding. They talked about how this process was often conducted anonymously or passively: “[I've] been a passive observer in various online communities… but I typically don't engage… I just absorb them” (Bo). Before the widespread availability of the internet, some participants referenced “getting into gay culture more by buying LGBT magazines on the quiet” (Ben) and “stealing copies of Gay Times off the top shelf in the shop” (Caleb).

Similarly, for autistic identity, the internet helped them find “things that are written by people with that experience…like blogposts..[which]..make a lot more sense than anything that's written by authority figures” (Drew). The knowledge shared in these forums included aspects such as “tips about how [to] cope with stuff […] stereotypes that your community shares…like bisexuals cannot sit properly on a chair” (Drew). Through these forums, participants could reclaim stigmatizing stereotypes and posit alternative narratives based on mutual understanding: “following people that have similar experiences helps me to make sense of my own” (Mia).

Subtheme 4: identity affirmation

Another important aspect of identity (re)development was being able to have an identity affirmed by others. When exploring their identities, some participants reported “checking in” with a community member, before claiming the identity publicly: “being able to talk to people about identities that are close to your own definitely helps in crystallising things and confirming that the reality is the reality” (Bo). In terms of being autistic, this affirmation could come in the form of a diagnosis: “the aspect of being autistic or being different for some reason has always been there… and the diagnosis solidified it” (Mia).

Validating identity took on additional importance as some participants mentioned they feared being “appropriative” (Bo). As Drew said: “Before I had got the autism diagnosis, I felt uncomfortable claiming that identity…I was worried that I was undermining the experience of real autistic people.” The mention of “real autistic people” illustrates how representation might influence identity formation. Community members were a valuable source of support that aided participants in navigating their newfound identities, as Drew stated: “you are valid…there are a lot of people on the internet who will agree with you on that.”

Subtheme 5: making sense

After navigating many of the experiences described in our earlier subthemes, participants reached a point where things fell into place. They spoke about how once they had discovered certain identities, they better understood their experiences. In terms of being autistic, participants stated that “it gave me answers” (Mia) and “the previous 24 years suddenly made sense” (Naoise). Participants utilized this understanding to make sense of their identity: “my autism has given me an overarching structure within which my personality fits” (Ben). Participants felt joy and relief at accessing this self-understanding: “I got a sense of euphoria when I first started to identify as agender or autistic, I just felt yes this makes so much sense” (Drew). Participants had access to a framework and community: “It's not that I am awkward or different…I am different but…I'm different with a lot of other people as well” (Caleb).

Theme 2: navigating authenticity

This theme dealt with how participants navigated their identities and the world around them. Meeting similar others enabled participants to feel more accepted, understood, and less alone. Despite increased self-acceptance, participants often had to conceal their identities due to stigma. We explore these points in our subthemes:

Subtheme 1: self-acceptance

Participants discussed how being autistic made accepting their other identities easier, as they were less concerned with “artifice” and more with being “authentic” (Julie). Drew acknowledged that although “[being autistic] helps me avoid performing things,” it also “makes it harder for me to closet myself…in more unsafe spaces it might be [a] problem.” Participants felt getting a diagnosis was useful, as it “enabled me to be okay or at peace with parts of my personality” (Naoise). Adele reported increased self-compassion after diagnosis, which permeated other areas of her life: “it's like I've relaxed…and I've not had to be this thin, outgoing, perfect person…I've just gone…yeah…whatever.” This sense of self-acceptance impacted her coming out: “my coming out [as bisexual] was entirely dependent on my being diagnosed as autistic” as she decided to “forgive myself for being who I am [and] to be exactly who I want to be.”

Subtheme 2: experiencing belonging

Participants discussed benefits of belonging, saying it “feel(s) comfortable and natural… just normal, I guess—it just feels like home” (Rowan). Other participants conceptualized this comfort physically, as “the space between your shoulders” relaxing (Julie) or “get[ting] home and tak[ing] your bra off” (Drew). Some participants compared freedom afforded by being around similar others to “the sense of being in a group where you can flop about in your pyjamas” (Drew). Naoise emphasized the importance of creating “spaces where autistic people can be unapologetically themselves.” These spaces often facilitated strong bonds between community members, as Rowan reflected: “my friends feel like found family…finding people who understand me and my experiences on such a deep and personal level has given me such a strong sense of self and so much more confidence! I would not be where I am today without having such a community in my life.”

Participants emphasized that acceptance from others was key to self-acceptance: “while we need to accept ourselves, for ourselves, I think it is important for most of us to be accepted by other people and community is a huge part of that” (Marianne). Community spaces were vital for feeling “safe and accepted” (Mia). Many discussed awareness of “how many autistic people are in the queer community” (Marianne) and how this helped them feel more understood. Community spaces were crucial for contextualizing identity in a less negative light: “[being autistic] can be wonderful. It's not just a barrier or a difficulty” (Adele).

Subtheme 3: inter-minority solidarity

Some participants reflected on how experiences of marginalization meant some nonautistic LGBTQIA+ people were more accepting of other forms of diversity: “To me, it seems as if the LGBT community are so used to being put in boxes and seen as different that they're more accepting of people who are different in other ways as well” (Marianne). However, there was a distinction between understanding and acceptance: “in the LGBTQ+ community I would expect people to be accepting of people being autistic but to not understand it” (Bo).

Solidarity was limited for more marginalized groups in the LGBTQIA+ community: “You've got at least as much work to gauge whether [lesbian and gay individuals]are going to be supportive as you have got with straight people. I've got no extra guarantee that they're gonna be supportive” (Drew). However, participants discussed how their own marginalized identities made them more compassionate toward others: “I'm more open to other people's differences than I was before being open to mine…I'm a lot more helpful and accommodating than I maybe would be without realising how it felt to be different” (Mia).

Subtheme 4: coming out

Participants underscored that coming out was a continuous process—many reported being out in some settings and not in others. However, there were challenges navigating disclosure with multiple minority identities: “When you try and explain it to people who think of themselves as normal, it feels like this huge pile of labels and after like the third one, brains start to melt and they assume you're just doing it for the attention” (Drew).

The risk of invalidation was particularly difficult when someone was in the early stages of understanding their identity: “people wouldn't believe I was autistic, which I found frustrating and invalidating but [now] I'm more settled in the identity and I'm not invalidated by other people's ideas” (Naoise). Several reported that coming out as autistic was more difficult than coming out as LGBTQIA+: “I've had more adverse reactions to telling people I'm autistic than I have telling people I was gay” (Caleb). Participants attributed this to misconceptions and misunderstandings: “people's ideas around autism come from lack of education and lack of understanding” (Naoise). The burden of explanation fell on participants: “I've had some bad reactions…you get bored of explaining it” (Caleb).

Subtheme 5: (in)visibility

Participants spoke about navigating visible and invisible aspects of their identities and concealing their identities in some settings. Marianne emphasized that although others saw her as “high functioning… that doesn't mean that I don't have a lot of difficulties, it just means I'm bloody good at masking.” Masking was conceptualized as an essential adaptation to a majority neurotypical society, enabling participants to have more harmonious relationships with others and “to hold a job” (Caleb). However, participants found masking “exhausting to pretend I'm someone I'm not” (Rowan) and “it feels wrong that I'm hiding a part of me” (Marianne). Mia referenced getting support from other members of the autistic community to deal with the toll of masking: “I tend to rant to my [autistic] friends…that's massively useful…I feel less alone in being exhausted from everyday life when everyone else seems fine.”

Theme 3: exclusion from community spaces

Despite the importance of accessing contexts for being authentic and meeting similar others, barriers existed for some autistic LGBTQIA+ people. These included identity-based barriers such as gatekeeping, and barriers to do with location, such as accessibility and rurality.

Subtheme 1: gatekeeping

Participants explained how privileging some LGBTQIA+ identities over others restricted access to LGBTQIA+ community spaces. Stereotypes concerning autistic individuals compounded this identity-based exclusion, namely that “autism somehow disqualifies people from knowing who they are” (Bo), which was then used to invalidate LGBTQIA+ identities: “[the] sense that autistic people don't really know their own mind, they don't really understand what gender is because they don't understand social constructs” (Drew). Within the LGBTQIA+ community, Rowan asserted “in-community gatekeeping” was an issue for nonbinary people and attributed this to “a lack of understanding.”

Bo conceptualized this as a “dynamic of people that are closer to broad recognition at some level feeling that in order to finish getting their recognition they need to attack those further from recognition.” Several bisexual participants experienced biphobia: “[I've] had friends become friends with me because they think I'm gay and then cease to be friends with me because they realise I'm bi” (Adele). The intra-community prejudice was a significant barrier to participation: “[it's] challenging to break those taboos and be confronted with other ones” (Julie). Prejudice was also evident toward asexual participants: “people saying ace^† people are basically straight because they pass as straight” (Drew).

The notion that boundaries of the LGBTQIA+ community need policing to prevent infiltration from so-called “normal people” was illustrated in concerns about “perform[ing] alternativeness” (Drew). As Drew stated, “you can't just turn up in a cardigan for [a queer event] and say, ‘hey you are my people’ and expect people to accept that.” Although it can be positive to find community and learn about community norms, participants struggled with performativity that often became prescriptive: “it was a lot of work to buy the clothes and get the piercings and listen to the right music” (Drew). In this study, the heteronorms that dominate in mainstream society were replaced by homonorms: “[the] expectation that you like certain types of camp entertainment [and] media” (Ben). Although this process may be engaged in as groups attempt to define their identities, it can become exclusionary as “people were getting turned away from queer clubs…for not looking queer enough” (Drew).

Subtheme 2: accessibility

Many barriers to inclusion in LGBTQIA+ community spaces centered around “the kind of spaces that are abundant for LGBT+ people, such as bars” (Rowan). These spaces and events such as Pride were “loud, annoying and not accessible” (Drew). Several participants also recognized that “very few [venues] are accessible to anyone in a wheelchair” (Marianne). They acknowledged the commercialization of community spaces and alcohol-centered venues: “once you stop drinking, the gay world disappears” (Caleb). Social accessibility and expectations were a barrier: “even though it was very clearly an environment that was designed with the explicit intention of people getting to know people, it was not an environment in which that felt possible to me” (Bo).

Participants described how the cumulative effect of sensory and social overload impacted on events: “I just couldn't cope with the sensory stuff and all the social stuff…I didn't really know people and I just found it highly stressful” (Naoise). Ben explained strategies he used to cope with sensory overload such as “step[ping] outside the pub if the music gets too loud or overwhelming.” However, he reported “people ma[de] me feel that these things are weird.”

Subtheme 3: rurality

Several participants living in rural locations discussed feeling “marooned in heterosexual land” (Julie). Being LGBTQIA+ in a rural setting had an impact on identity expression, such as being “not very keen on public displays of affection [in a] small town” (Julie). Caleb referenced how being both autistic and LGBTQIA+ made it less likely that they would meet similar others in rural settings: “well I'm in 10% of the people are gay, 1% [are autistic], so I'm in a tiny… you know there's me and five other people on this whole island sort of thing.” Rurality had an impact on opportunities for community participation: “it's been hard to meet people up here… it's all kind of travelling into [city] if I want to see anyone that's queer” (Julie). Participants mentioned the advantages of accessing community spaces online during the COVID-19 pandemic: “There's no geographic barriers, you're getting rid of a lot of the time barriers but you're getting rid of an awful lot of communication barriers as well” (Marianne).

Theme 4: creating change

Despite issues within the LGBTQIA+ community, participants still wanted to engage in it and contribute to community activism.

Subtheme 1: fighting for equality

Participants highlighted discrepancies in acceptance for LGBTQIA+ and autistic individuals. They acknowledged historical struggles for LGBTQIA+ equality and that being gay “seems to be way less of an issue [these days]” (Caleb). This contrasted with the experiences of Ben who described being autistic in current social context as a “a throwback to the lack of confidence that I felt back in the 1990s about being gay.” Participants highlighted how the autistic community is “still really developing” (Adele) and the organization of autonomous autistic-led community spaces was ongoing, contrary to the assumptions of “people who think that we're less capable than we are” (Drew). Participants positioned themselves as both beneficiaries and contributors to the fight for LGBTQIA+ autistic equality. As Adele explained in relation to past struggles of the LGBTQIA+ community, “if they hadn't fought all their battles, I wouldn't be where I am now.”

Subtheme 2: existence as rebellion

In many environments, participants conveyed how their existence as openly LGBTQIA+ autistic individuals was a form of rebellion. They often framed this in terms of improving representation for the next generation: “giv[ing] autistic children…the ability to see other autistic adults who have normal happy lives…and also do things like stim and all kinds of things that people think are weird” (Naoise). Some expressed a desire to counteract the idea of being LGBTQIA+ as something inherently disruptive by seeking to convey it as “as normal and frankly boring as it actually is” (Adele).

Participants considered advocating for equality and accessibility as a communal responsibility—Adele mentioned starting a group for LGBTQIA+ students, where “my role is to have that space available.” Mia acknowledged how when organizing Pride events, she “push[ed] for more inclusive quieter spaces and not busy parties.” Participants also benefitted from communal activism, as Drew discussed starting a new job where the path to acceptance was easier due to “a non-binary person ahead of me who did the work.” By creating accessible alternatives, participants often ensured not only their own inclusion but that of similar others.

Discussion

Several commonalities were evident in participants' understanding of their identities and inclusion in the LGBTQIA+ community. Participants highlighted how they had initially lacked a framework to understand their identities but engaging in relevant communities was helpful to amend this. The benefits of engaging in community spaces, such as a sense of belonging and self-compassion, juxtaposed with the difficulties of belonging to a stigmatized minority group, as participants faced prejudice and had to conceal some identities. Participants also found themselves multiply excluded from LGBTQIA+ community spaces, often due to sensory, social, and identity-based barriers such as gatekeeping. Despite this, there was a motivation to engage in community activism and improve conditions for marginalized groups.

Lacking a framework to understand identity impacted participants' understanding of themselves and their place in the world. Similar results have been noted elsewhere, such as Hillier et al.'s³⁹ research with four autistic LGBTQIA+ individuals who reported lacking the language for how they identified in the early stages of understanding their identities, and this had a detrimental impact on their self-esteem. In Coleman-Smith et al.'s³⁷ study with 10 autistic adults with gender dysphoria, lack of language to describe one's identity was attributed to “the interplay of their experience of gender and difficulties related to autism” (p. 2467). This interpretation ignores the impact of societal discourses that obscure knowledge in relation to nonheterosexuality and noncisgenderism.⁵² Participants in our study linked their early identity confusion to a lack of representation, and once they had more information about various identities, this alleviated earlier confusion. Participants highlighted how resources (e.g., articles and blog posts) produced by the autistic community were relevant to their experience and facilitated more positive understandings of identity. This supports the function of community participation as means of counteracting the stigmatization of minoritized identities.¹³

The internet was important for community building for autistic and LGBTQIA+ people, removing communication barriers and concerns around disclosure.^53,54 The ability to anonymously explore gender identity or neurodiversity online in a supportive setting was invaluable; similar benefits have been found for nonautistic LGBTQIA+ adolescents in the early stages of understanding their identities.¹³ The expansion of community spaces to incorporate cyberspace was contested by early theorists, who argued that the growth of virtual communities would lead to the atrophy of in-person community establishments.⁵⁵ Today, Delanty⁵⁶ outlines how contemporary “communication communities,” despite their fragmented and diffuse nature, remain centered on belonging. Indeed, our participants discussed how in-person spaces were often not accessible, and online spaces enabled them to access similar geographically dispersed individuals, who helped them understand their experiences. Research examining autistic online peer support networks notes how these spaces often consist of a mutually beneficial interaction in which participants receive support, while also supporting others.⁵⁷

Our participants portrayed their newfound understanding of their identities as increasing self-confidence and community connections. This finding aligns with research that suggests that engaging in community spaces where individuals are no longer minoritized is associated with various benefits, including increased self-acceptance and decreased social isolation.⁵³ Our participants discussed how, after discovery of the autistic and LGBTQIA+ communities, they felt more understood and less alone. Being more compassionate toward oneself after diagnosis as autistic was also noted.^16,58 Several participants felt that accepting their identities as autistic impacted their acceptance of other minority identities, including being LGBTQIA+ and vice versa. Despite stereotypical portrayals of autistic individuals as socially disinterested,²⁶ our study supports research that suggests that autistic people experience a sense of belonging, ease, and authenticity in relationships with other autistic people.^4,28

Despite the benefits of engaging in community spaces, participants faced substantial challenges due to prejudice. Many talked about how they used masking to navigate stigma and become “invisible,” as has been noted elsewhere.^59–61 For late-diagnosed autistic bisexual women in our study, their perceived proximity to straightness and neurotypicality complicated their concerns about visibility. These feelings may relate to stereotypes about autistic people as young and male, and the construction of sexuality as a consequence of the gender of one's partner.^62,63 This point highlights the importance of an intersectional lens when considering community participation. Further research needs to be conducted on the impact of identity intersections, including ethnicity, and the implications of structural inequalities for community participation.⁶⁴

Many participants sought opportunities for in-person community building but found these environments inaccessible. This finding is supported by qualitative research with gay autistic men, which reported that sensory aspects of some spaces, accompanied by lack of structure, made them inaccessible.³⁸ Recommendations to improve this include having more quiet spaces available, making social expectations clear by structuring discussions around an activity, and having formal introductions relating to pronouns.³⁷ In addition, our study highlights the need to increase autism acceptance, supporting research on the stigmatization of autistic behaviors and the need for educating nonautistic individuals.^65,66

Poor understanding of autistic people was a barrier to coming out as autistic, a finding supported elsewhere.⁶⁷ Our participants were more reluctant to disclose being autistic than their LGBTQIA+ identity, which was also noted in a study examining same-sex attraction in autistic individuals.³⁸ Although our participants reported that LGBTQIA+ people were more likely to accept them, they underscored that they did not necessarily understand autism. Lack of understanding meant that participants risked being invalidated when identities diverged from stereotypes, a finding that supports research looking at experiences of stigma in non-LGBTQIA+ autistic individuals.^58,68 Invalidation is amplified at the intersection of autism and gender diversity, as gender expression is often dismissed and attributed to being autistic.⁴⁰ Educational tools that aim to improve autism acceptance could benefit from applying an intersectional lens by explaining gender and sexual diversity among autistic individuals in nonpathological ways.

Participants also discussed their desire to contribute to community activism. This activism included organizing inclusive community events to utilizing strategic disclosure to destabilize stereotypes, a strategy also referenced in Botha et al.'s²⁸ study of how autistic adults manage stigma. It has been argued that segregating particular identities through labeling provides a basis for stigma and prejudice.⁶⁹ However, our participants suggested that embracing identity can increase self-acceptance and provide connection to a community. Yet, this potential unity contrasts with the fragmented portrayal of the LGBTQIA+ community in our study, as our participants reported experiencing gatekeeping, biphobia, acephobia, and transphobia. Performative expressions of identity were seen as necessary to “fit in” to some communities, and may be understood as an attempt by a stigmatized group to prevent infiltration by so-called “normals.”⁷⁰ However, exclusionary boundary policing contradicts the building of more inclusive, intersectional, and solidarity-based community spaces.

Limitations and implications

Our study is limited in terms of cultural and ethnic diversity, as all participants were White and based in the United Kingdom. Therefore, our study cannot speak to the systemic oppression that Black autistic LGBTQIA+ individuals would experience. Qualitative research does not claim to be generalizable,⁷¹ and the experiences here reflect only those of our participants. There is also heterogeneity within our sample, with our participants having a range of different gender and sexual minority identities. Some participants did not have formal autism diagnoses, but we did not seek to gatekeep and appreciate that there are many barriers to diagnosis.⁷² We do not subscribe to positivist paradigms where we might claim objectivity or seek data saturation.⁷³

Our interpretation of the data will be subjective and we have made judgments on where to draw the lines for our themes. Undoubtedly other researchers may interpret our participants' experiences differently, but we have tried to outline our reasoning for each theme and hope that this research stimulates further work and discussion in this area. Specifically, more research with specific groups of LGBTQIA+ and autistic communities, as neither community is monolithic, would be useful. In addition, more effort is needed to include those with co-occurring physical disabilities and learning disabilities, to gain a full picture of the manner in which heteronormativity, gender normativity, and ableism impact these populations.⁷⁴ Concepts such as inter-minority solidarity, which has been explored in relation to other minorities, should be further examined at the intersection of autistic and LGBTQIA+ identities.⁷⁵

Our findings show that autistic LGBTQIA+ individuals are motivated to engage in communities relevant to their identities. Funding for community-building enterprises such as autistic-led LGBTQIA+ spaces is needed, in line with research on autistic-led peer support and creative endeavors that improve authentic autistic LGBTQIA+ representation.^4,39,76 Another relevant and linked area for future research to consider is representation within sex education curriculums, which are often not inclusive of identities outside of cisgender and heteronormative binaries.^39,77 Access to intersectional inclusive sex education is crucial for autistic adolescents, particularly since they often receive less sex education than their nonautistic peers and this could be compounded if they are also LGBTQIA+.^78,79 In addition, this study supports the need to reduce prejudice against autistic people by developing intersectional educational programs that improve autism acceptance among the nonautistic population.⁶⁶

This study is the first, to the best of our knowledge, to examine how being autistic and LGBTQIA+ impacts opportunities for LGBTQIA+ community participation. We suggest autistic LGBTQIA+ individuals face numerous barriers, such as accessibility and gatekeeping, when navigating their identities and accessing affirming community spaces. This study supports the notion that autistic LGBTQIA+ identities are inherently intersectional and occupy multiple terrains—such as the urban and rural, the real and the cyber-real, the scene and the nonscene. More research is necessary to fully interrogate these domains and their implications for identity expression, the possibilities of which are indebted to the past and bound up with fighting for a better future.

Authorship Confirmation Statement

C.M. conceived of the study and led the design, data collection, and data analysis, and wrote the first draft as their dissertation for their MSc in Autism Research at the University of Stirling. E.C. was the supervisor and provided guidance on study design and data analysis, and played a significant role in editing the article for publication. R.J.W. provided feedback on the interview schedule, development of themes, and final article. All authors approved of the final version before submission. This article has been submitted solely to this journal and is not published elsewhere.

Author Disclosure Statement

No competing financial interests exist.

Funding Information

This project received some financial support from the Department of Psychology, University of Stirling, as part of the first author's MSc Dissertation project.

Supplementary Material

Supplementary Table S1