Imagine this…

You’re sitting at work, trying to focus on a project, when your stomach starts to twist into knots. Your chest feels heavy, your shoulders ache, and your thoughts are racing. If someone asked what you were feeling in that moment, you might say, “I’m just stressed,” or “I’m fine, just busy.” But inside, something more is happening—you just don’t have the words to describe it.

This is an example of what alexithymia feels like.

Alexithymia is a long, fancy word for something very human: difficulty identifying and describing emotions. It doesn’t mean you don’t have emotions (you absolutely do). It means having difficulty connecting with them—and putting them into words. It takes extra effort, extra intention, and extra time.

For autistic adults, especially those who were diagnosed later in life or are only now beginning to realize they might be autistic, alexithymia is incredibly common.

Why It Feels So Confusing

If you’ve spent a lifetime masking—carefully monitoring how you present yourself, mimicking what you think others expect, or defaulting to logic and analysis over raw expression—your emotions might feel like background noise. They’re there, but hard to tune into.

Instead of feeling “sad” or “anxious,” you might notice headaches, stomachaches, or tension in your body. You might respond to “How are you feeling?” with a list of facts: “I worked twelve hours yesterday, and my commute was long.” Or my favorite lie, “I’m fine.”

You may even find yourself studying emotions in other people—almost like a scientist observing a species—while your own stay blurry and out of reach.

Relationships with loved ones can be particularly tricky. Maybe your partner asks what’s wrong, and you say, “Nothing,” even though you feel off. Or maybe a friend shares something vulnerable, and you freeze up because you don’t know what to say back. It’s not that you don’t care—it’s that the emotional language just isn’t available in that moment. You need a minute (or a day, or weeks, or months) to process it.

Why Does This Happen?

Alexithymia is NOT a flaw. It’s a difference in how your brain processes and organizes emotional information. For autistic adults, there are a few reasons it’s so common:

• Neurology: Many autistic people naturally lean toward logical, detail-oriented thinking styles. Emotions, which are more abstract, don’t always come to the surface as easily.

• Masking: If you’ve spent years hiding parts of yourself to play the role of “normal,” you may have trained yourself to ignore or push down your emotions. Over time, this can make them harder to access.

• Childhood experiences: If emotions weren’t talked about in your family, or if expressing them wasn’t safe, you might not have developed a strong emotional vocabulary.

It’s not about lacking emotions—it’s about having a disconnection between what you feel, and how you describe it.

How It Shows Up in Everyday Life

Alexithymia can sneak into the most ordinary moments:

• You might feel exhausted after a social event but tell yourself you’re just “tired,” when really you’re overstimulated and drained.

• You might get irritable with your partner, not realizing that underneath the irritation is anxiety about work.

• You might avoid journaling or therapy exercises because “I don’t know how I feel” seems like a dead end.

• You might notice you’re great at problem-solving and planning, but when it comes to emotional decisions—like knowing whether you’re actually happy in a relationship—you feel lost.

If any of this resonates, you’re not alone. Many autistic adults describe this exact experience, often only finding the word alexithymia years after struggling with it.

Building Emotional Awareness (Without It Feeling “Homework-y”)

The good news is that emotional awareness can be learned, slowly and gently, in ways that don’t require you to suddenly become “touchy-feely” or dramatically change who you are. Think of it more like learning a second language—a skill you practice over time, with lots of nuance and room for growth.

Here are some ideas to try:

Start with the body
Your body is constantly giving you signals, even if your brain hasn’t named them yet. When you notice tension, heaviness, heat, or fluttering, pause for a moment. Ask yourself, “If this had an emotion attached, what might it be?” You don’t have to get it right—just making a guess starts to build the bridge between sensation and feeling.

Keep a low-effort feelings log
This doesn’t need to be a big journaling practice. Try jotting down one word a day that best fits your mood. If words don’t come easily, use colors, emojis, or a simple scale (1 = drained, 10 = energized). Over time, you’ll start to see patterns.

Expand your emotional vocabulary
A lot of us default to “good,” “bad,” “fine,” or “stressed.” Or “happy,” “sad,” “mad,” “scared.”

Print out an emotions wheel (you can find free ones online, and there’s a great one here from Neurodivergent Insights) and keep it near your desk. When you feel “off,” scan the words and see which ones resonate. The more words you have, the more precise your self-understanding becomes.

Use prompts that don’t start with “feel”
Instead of asking yourself “How do I feel?”—which can be a dead end—try “What’s on my mind right now?” or “What do I wish could be different in this moment?” These questions can sneak in the back door to emotion.

Try body-based practices
Yoga, stretching, or even just lying on the floor and noticing your breath can help reconnect you to your body. Sometimes emotions show up more clearly once you’ve slowed down enough to notice what’s happening inside.

Practice in safe relationships
If you have a trusted friend, partner, or therapist, practice naming emotions out loud—even if it feels clunky. Saying “I think I might be frustrated, but I’m not sure” is still valuable. It’s about experimenting, not perfection.

A Different Way of Knowing Yourself

Living with alexithymia can feel frustrating—like everyone else has a map for their inner world, and yours is written in invisible ink. But you’re not broken, and you’re not alone. Many autistic adults share this experience, especially those who have spent years pushing emotions aside to survive in a world that doesn’t always make space for them.

Learning to connect with your emotions won’t erase who you are—it will simply add depth and clarity to the life you’re already building. It might make relationships feel easier, self-care more intuitive, and decisions less confusing. Think of it as learning to hear a part of yourself that’s been whispering all along.

And remember: you don’t need to rush. Even noticing that alexithymia is part of your experience is a powerful first step. With time, practice, and patience, you can start to translate those physical signals and vague “somethings” into words that make sense—words that help you understand yourself better and share yourself more fully with the people who matter.

If alexithymia feels familiar, you don’t have to figure it out alone. Therapy can give you tools to notice, name, and trust your emotions in a way that feels safe.

If you’re ready to explore this, I can help…reach out today