There’s something that has shown up in my relationship more than once, but it became especially clear recently when my partner was away for a number of days. We FaceTime’d a few times while he was gone, and objectively, everything about those calls was fine; we checked in, we talked about our days, we covered logistics in our family and in our business, but when we hung up, I felt a very distinct sense of disconnection that I couldn’t ignore.
It wasn’t that we didn’t talk and it wasn’t that anything went wrong, it was that I didn’t feel like we were with each other. There wasn’t much depth, or playfulness, or that sense of shared presence that makes me feel grounded in us. And that’s when something really clicked for me in a clearer way: contact is not the same as connection.
The framework that finally put words to it
There’s a concept called the Double Empathy Problem and it has been one of the most helpful ways I’ve found to understand what was happening not just in that moment, but in the pattern underneath it.
The core idea is that communication struggles between autistic and non-autistic people are not one-sided and they don’t happen because one person is doing it wrong or not trying hard enough. They happen because people are operating from different ways of experiencing and expressing connection and those ways don’t automatically translate. The communication issue is really a translation gap.
In other words, instead of assuming that one person needs to fix something about how they relate, we start from the understanding that both people are using different relational “languages” and those languages don’t always intuitively make sense to each other.
The research explains this by saying that people with different neurotypes often “struggle to intuitively grasp each other’s communication preferences.” And another way it’s described, which I think is even more accessible, is this:
It’s more like a language difference than someone doing something wrong.
If you’re curious to read more about this concept, these are two helpful overviews:
https://www.autism.org.uk/learn/knowledge-hub/professional-practice/double-empathy? The key takeaway is that people with very different experiences of the world “will struggle to empathise with each other”.
https://www.verywellmind.com/the-double-empathy-problem-8726038? The key take away is that communication breakdowns are mutual and based on differences in neurotypes.
Two different ways of experiencing connection
When I really slowed down and looked at what was happening between us, I could see that this wasn’t about whether we loved each other or whether we were invested in the relationship. It was about how connection actually registers for each of us.
For me, as an Autistic woman, connection is not something that stays “on” in the background just because we’re in a relationship or because we’ve checked in. I experience connection as something that is felt through moments that are intentional, emotionally present and engaged. It’s the quality of the interaction that matters, not just the fact that interaction happened. Without that, my system doesn’t automatically hold onto a sense of closeness it can start to register distance, even if I know logically that everything is okay between us.
For my partner, connection seems to be experienced as something much more constant, stable and ongoing. It doesn’t need to be actively created in the moment in order to still feel real. So, he can go through his day, we can talk briefly or not much at all and he still feels connected to me.
Neither of these ways of experiencing connection is wrong. But they are different.
How the mismatch actually plays out
This is where the misunderstanding begins and it’s subtle enough that it can be missed for a long time. When we were talking while he was away, I think he was genuinely feeling connected because we were in touch, we had contact, we were communicating, everything was fine from his perspective.
But I wasn’t feeling connected in the same way, because what creates that felt sense of connection for me is shared presence, emotional engagement, a sense of “us” and it wasn’t really happening in those moments.
So, we were both leaving the same interaction with completely different internal experiences. And without language for that, it’s easy to default to interpretations like:
- “I’m too much”
- “He’s not trying”
- “Something is off between us”
When in reality, what’s happening is that we are both doing what makes sense in our own system and missing each other in the process.
Why this becomes more noticeable when you’re apart
When you’re physically together, there are so many small, almost invisible moments that contribute to connection like shared space, eye contact, humour, proximity, energy. These micro-moments often go unnamed, but they do a lot of relational work. When you’re apart, those moments disappear.
And for someone like me, who relies on felt, active connection, that absence becomes very noticeable. Without intentional moments of connection, there isn’t much for my system to anchor to and the sense of closeness can fade quickly.
For someone who experiences connection as stable and ongoing, that gap doesn’t register in the same way.
What the research actually tells us
This is something that is consistently reflected in research on neurodivergent relationships.
We know that:
- Autistic people often experience and express connection differently from neurotypical expectations
- Misunderstandings arise when these differences are not recognized or translated
- Relationship satisfaction improves when partners adapt to each other’s communication styles, rather than expecting one person to “fix” or override their natural way of relating
For a deeper dive into how autistic people experience relationships, this is another helpful read: https://www.relationalpsych.group/articles/how-autistic-people-experience-romantic-relationships-differently?
What I’ve had to unlearn about myself
Part of this process has been unlearning some deeply ingrained narratives about what it means to need connection in the way that I do. I’ve had to question the idea that:
- I’m asking for too much
- I should feel connected just because we are
- There’s something wrong with me if I don’t
And instead, I’ve come to understand that my nervous system registers connection through meaningful, engaged interaction and not assumption. It’s simply how I’m wired.
What actually helps (and what doesn’t)
For me, this isn’t about needing more time, more contact, or constant communication. It’s about needing a different quality of interaction.
What makes a difference is something like:
- a short conversation that’s actually about us, not logistics
- a moment of shared laughter or playfulness
- a sense that we are present with each other, even briefly
Even 10–15 minutes of that kind of connection can completely shift how I feel. Without it, even multiple check-ins can still leave me feeling disconnected.
The shift that changes everything
The shift here is not about deciding whose way of experiencing connection is “right.” It’s about recognizing that we are working with different relational languages and that those languages require some degree of translation.
Because love can absolutely be present on both sides. Care can be present. Commitment can be present. But if connection is not being felt on both sides, then something is getting lost in translation.
If this resonates with you
If you are the one who finds yourself feeling disconnected, even when everything seems “fine” on the surface, I want to say let you know:
You are not too much.
You are not asking for something unreasonable.
And you are not alone in this.
And if you are the partner who feels connected regardless of how much interaction is happening, you are not doing anything wrong either. This is not a problem of effort or intention. It is a problem of translation.
Final reflection
The goal in relationships like this is not to agree on what connection should feel like. The goal is to understand, with honesty and curiosity what allows each of us to actually feel connected.
When both people are willing to meet somewhere in the middle, connection becomes something both people can truly experience.