Honey, is a self-identified autistic woman from East Malaysia. She is in her early 20s. This case study is about her experience navigate digital spaces as a queer neurodivergent youth, who has been unable to obtain a formal diagnosis due to multiple barriers. These include inaccessible diagnostic pathways for women and girls with adulthood and the current classification of autism only as a subcategory under Learning Disability in Malaysia, which creates further structural and institutional obstacles in having her disability formally recognised.
Her story reflects both the struggles and resiliency of living as a neurodivergent person with acute stress disorder and chronic fatigue syndrome, conditions that arise from the systemic inaccessibility of her environment rather than an inherent personal limitation. In a society dominated by a fast-paced, highly curated, visually saturated online world, she faces daily challenges that amplify sensory overload and burnout. Despite this, she has found ways to reclaim and navigating digital spaces for joy and pleasure in the form of self-expression and a space for finding empowerment, especially in relation to her perception of body image and positivity.
In Malaysia, there’s still a deep lack of awareness about neurodivergence and autism. Autism is often viewed through a medicalised and deficit-based lens, with rigid definitions that frame disability as something to be fixed rather than accommodated. For autistic individuals like Honey, this means navigating a soceity that either views her struggles and challenges as invisible or define her solely through the lens of dysfunction and inability.
Growing up in a culture that sees it this way made it hard for Honey to understand her own struggles and develop her own self identity as an autistic person with self determination. With a family history of undiagnosed and unrecognised mental health conditions as well as the cultural stigma of being labelled as “disabled” in the society, she was conditioned to push herself beyond her limits and taught that she was simply “like everyone else”, that any struggles she faced were due to her own personal failings rather than systemic barriers or cultural conditioning.
This reflects how ableism is deeply embedded in both cultural and institutional strucures - forcing autistic individuals like Honey to navigate a world not being able to develop her own self-identity and recognition of her own disability due to an unconscious internalising of ableist attitudes.
It wasn’t until the pandemic, when life slowed down and everything moved online, that Honey began to explore and truly understand her experiences.
“I stumbled across content on TikTok from other neurodivergent people, especially those who were diagnosed late in life,” she shared. “Hearing their stories, I really relate to them, and I realised I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t the only ‘gifted kid’ who burned out so badly that just getting through the day feels impossible now.”
For the first time, Honey felt truly seen in a way she never had in her everyday life, and this gave her the space to not only understand herself as a person better but also embrace her neurodivergence and see herself with compassion, learning that being different didn’t mean being less. Through these online content, she now had the words and vocabulary to name what her experiences in life were and could be.
As Honey navigated her formative years, digital platforms like YouTube became more than just entertainment, they became a vital source of guidance, reassurance, connection and comfort for her. Without an older sibling in her real life to turn to for advice, she found role models in online creators where they offered practical tips on everything from making friends and navigating social dynamics to learning about makeup and self-presentation. Beyond the advice, they provided a sense of belonging and validation, helping her feel less alone in her awkwardness and uncertainties.
These online figures became like virtual big sisters, offering insights on questions she was too shy or unsure to ask in spaces out of the digital world. Even though there was little direct interaction, their content held a safe space where she could explore her identity and learn about girlhood without judgment, especially when there are other girls online asking the same questions.
Digital platforms also became a space where Honey could find community. She found her first real sense of belonging in the world of cosplay, where she connected with like-minded individuals who shared her passions. Many of her friendships began online, through tutorials on makeup and costume creation, before translating into in-person connections at cosplay events. This sense of community made her feel less “weird” and showed her that there was a space for everyone, no matter how different they might feel in other settings.
It also helped her branch out socially, encouraging her to step outside her comfort zone and form new relationships on her own terms. These experiences were transformative, teaching her not only how to meet new people but also how to understand herself better. Engaging with others in these communities made her realised how to set boundaries and recognise what she valued in friendships and social interactions.
Digital platforms, driven by algorithms that connected her with those who shared her interests, provided a space for autistic women like her to navigate social interactions that felt safe and affirming to them. In a world that often demanded that she fit into neurotypical and normative expectations, these digital spaces, again, benefited her by giving her room to exist as she was.
Societal and familial beauty standards shaped every facet of Honey’s self-image. From an early age, she learned that beauty was conditional, tied to ableist norms of thinness, fairness, and conventional femininity.
Her neurodivergence, which allowed her to see beauty in diverse and unconventional ways, often clashed with these expectations. “It’s like a puzzle,” she explained. “Puzzle pieces can fit together to form different pictures, but society insists there’s only one right picture, and they won’t let you arrange the pieces your way.”
Neurodivergent people are often drawn to alternative styles—goth, punk, and other aesthetics that reject mainstream normative beauty standards and offer a broader spectrum of beauty and self-expression. This was the same with Honey who has a special interest in dresses and experimenting with make-up, although it was often misunderstood as an act of rebellion. Her self-expression was met with judgement and control in her household and community. Her interest in dressing up and experimenting with makeup was harshly criticised, often weaponised against her through mockery and slut-shaming. The message was clear: she could only be seen as “beautiful” if she conformed to societal norms and standards, and any attempt to express self-love outside those boundaries was framed as selfish or inappropriate.
In Malaysia, where conservative Asian values place strong emphasis on modesty, conformity and familial expectations, subcultures that embrace bolder self-expressions are often seen as defiant or inappropriate culturally. This disconnect deepened Honey’s sense of alienation, making it harder for her to explain or justify her choices. This misalignment between neurodivergent perspectives and the social norms of her environment continually left her feeling misunderstood-not just by her family, but by society at large.
This criticism deeply affected her. On one hand, her autism gave her a unique lens to appreciate the individuality in beauty, allowing her to see worth and charm in styles others might dismiss. On the other hand, the constant invalidation from her family and society created a disconnect. “In a world where I already struggle to fit in, loving myself on my own terms felt like breaking a rule.”
She also shared “I was recently diagnosed with an eating disorder, but I’ve been living with it since I was young,” she shared. “Even when I was skipping meals for days, barely functioning, and constantly falling asleep in class, the focus was on how much weight I was losing. To my family, I was finally conforming to society's beauty standards. Back then, no one saw it as a problem. It was even celebrated as if my extreme dieting was a sign of discipline.”
It was through watching content from other neurodivergent people and women of colour creators that Honey began to recognise the of the harm caused by these unrealistic beauty expectations. Their stories helped her unlearning deeply ingrained, internalisations that had shaped her self-perception and develop a more compassionate relationship with herself and her body.
When Honey connected with other neurodivergent individuals online, she experienced what autism researcher Dr. Damian Milton describes as the “double empathy problem”—the idea that miscommunication between autistic and non-autistic people is mutual, rather than a “social deficit” on the autistic person’s part. While autistic people are often perceived as struggling with social skills, this theory suggests that non-autistic people also fail to understand autistic perspectives, leading to exclusion and misunderstanding. For Honey, finding community among other neurodivergent people meant she no longer had to explain herself—she was simply understood.
Fiction became a powerful tool for self-expression with Honey. It was a safe space where she could explore identity, relationships and emotions on her own terms and in her own vocabulary. As a socially awkward teenager, she turned to writing platforms like Wattpad, where fanfiction was more than just a creative hobby. The writing became a way to process complex themes and intersectionalities of her identity, and it allowed for a space to experiment with ideas and explore her emotions. Through storytelling, she also re-explore experiences she encountered in real life, helping her navigate better understanding of how she responds to herself, and her environment.
As a a research-driven writer this process not only supported her creatively, it sharpened her ability to articulate ideas, critically engage with complex topics and a space to explore different perspectives in a medium that she felt safe. It gave her a sense of agency, as she could create narratives that felt authentic and meaningful, especially when it comes to queer and neurodivergent representation.
The digital platform also exposed her to a growing movement of creators advocating for accurate and nuanced representation of marginalised and under-represented communities, especially women and girls with disabilities who also identify with other intersectionalities.. Seeing these efforts inspired her to reflect critically about her own writing and narrative and the impact they could have on her readers. This sense of empowerment and encouragement from both the platform and her online peers motivated her to continue writing. Not just as a form of self-expression, but as a way to connect with others and advocate for representation through fiction.
In Malaysia, conversations about sex, pleasure and body, remains heavily stigmatised, often met with discomfort, fear or outright dismissal. Growing up in this environment, Honey internalised the belief that pleasure was “a guy’s thing” and that women did not deserve it. She later realised this perspective was deeply rooted in internalised misogyny, reinforced by cultural and societal norms that discouraged open discussion on sexuality and bodily autonomy.
The turning point came during her teenage years when digital spaces began introducing discussions around sex and body positivity and bodily autonomy. At first, these conversations were overwhelming, especially given the common association of sex with exploitative content like mainstream pornography. However, her deeper exploration revealed a more positive, rights based and affirming side of these topics—conversations centred on consent, boundaries, healthy relationships, and the empowerment of women to claim their right to pleasure.
One particularly eye-opening discovery for Honey was the concept of ethical porn, introduced through a women-led production group she found on TikTok. They emphasised prioritising the performers' well-being and consent of performers, ensuring fair pay, and creating ethical pleasure and joyful content; challenging the industry’s exploitative norms and reframing pornography beyond the male gaze. This perspective reshaped her understanding of pornography, challenging her earlier perception of it as inherently harmful. Honey realised that porn could be produced ethically, respecting the autonomy and comfort of everyone involved, and that consuming such content did not contradict feminist principles or imply harmful beliefs, as opposed to what she was taught growing up.
For a neurodivergent person like Honey, navigating societal norms around intimacy and pleasure often felt confusing, largely due to the lack of opportunities for women like her to share experiences with peers or learn through comparison. Many autistic women face social isolation, making it harder to access conversations that typically happen informally among friends. However, digital platforms provided clarity and validation by offering diverse viewpoints and opening discussions about sexuality. Engaging with these perspectives expanded her understanding of sex positivity but also strengthened her ability to critically assess the media she consumed.
This shift in thinking extended beyond sexuality—it also shaped her approach to critical media consumption. Whether it was exploring dark romance fiction that often has abusive themes or engaging with discussions about ethical media, digital platforms taught Honey to separate enjoyment of fictional scenarios from real-life values. This distinction helped her understand the importance of critical thinking in navigating nuanced topics like pleasure, ethics and representation.
While digital platforms provide connections, self-expression, and learning opportunities, they also come with significant barriers– particular for neurodivergent individuals navigating these digital spaces. Honey recalled the distress she felt as a young teen when a classmate, just 12 years old, began posting pictures of her self-harming on Facebook. At the time, safety guidelines on the platform were practically nonexistent, leaving Honey overwhelmed and unsure of how to process what she was seeing. With no built-in safeguards or support mechanism, she ultimately had to step away from the platform.
The open nature of digital spaces also means that while there are supportive voices, they are often drowned out by dismissive or hurtful discourse that undermine personal experiences and amplify self-doubt, particularly for disabled and marginalised communities. For Honey, this constant exposure to negativity and invalidation was emotionally draining, particularly when trying to discern harmful content disguised as advice. She struggled to differentiate between sarcasm and genuinely problematic messaging, such as influencers subtly promoting eating disorders through content masked as “diet advice”. This lack of clarity, and accountability in digital spaces left her vulnerable to absorbing misleading narratives, compounded by her differences in absorbing and processing information.
Adding to these challenges is the issue of misinformation and the limited representation of Southeast Asian and Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) communities in the digital discourse. Finding accurate, relevant information often felt like an uphill battle, with platform algorithms always prioritising Western-centric content or promoting shallow, sensationalist material over meaningful discussions. Honey often found herself endlessly digging for resources, only to discover that vital voices from marginalised communities were being shadow-banned or deprioritised by online platforms.
Honey’s hopes for our digital space are that it becomes a place that is truly inclusive and embraces the diversity of marginalised communities, especially disabled people. She envisions a digital world where everyone can just exist as themselves, free from judgment, discrimination, or harmful expectations—a space where differences are celebrated and respected.
“Like Barbie Land in the Barbie movie where everyone is uniquely themselves, and there’s no need to change or fit into someone else’s mould. That’s what I dream of, not just for women but for everyone fighting for safe spaces, to be accepted and just be.”
Send us an email or DM us on Instagram!
If you'd like to learn more about us and explore additional samples of our work, we're more than happy to provide further details, including our CVs.
Instagram: @canainckt