Autism in construction: achieving – yet hiding – in plain sight

I didn’t end up in construction by accident. As a child, I remember looking up at buildings and bridges and couldn’t stop thinking about how they got there. Engineering became one of my ‘special interests’ and I was obsessed with understanding how things were built and how they worked.

My brain didn’t allow me to just stop at the building. It needed to know the materials, the age, the architectural style, the ground conditions. It always has more questions because for some reason it needs all the details. It needs to understand each step before, how it connects, and why it exists – which, honestly, is exhausting.

But it’s the reason construction was a good career choice. It has rules, a clear sequence, and the work can speak for itself, which matters because sometimes I don’t have access to words.

My brain works in pictures which helps with visualising what construction should look like, but not with explaining it to others. If I can’t see it, I can’t understand it. That’s why I ask a lot of questions. Not to challenge, but to make it understandable. Sometimes that’s seen as thorough, other times it’s seen as difficult.

But I never had a problem working with operatives on site. I’d sketch, show images, get them to teach me their trade. We connected through actions, not words. It worked and I progressed quickly into management, which I found needs more of the skills that I struggle with.

Sounds can be overwhelming, like the volume dial keeps turning up until it’s physically painful. This makes it difficult to focus in meetings. The light in the office is so bright your eyes are burning and watering, which makes it hard to work. Sometimes clothing feels like needles against your skin, so you fidget a lot and feel uncomfortable. Most people filter it out, but I don’t always have that option.