Editor’s note: This question about a discussing kink comes from the inbox of Cate Osborn, frequent Playboy contributor and Playboy Club creator. We highly recommend you follow Cate on Instagram for more of her wisdom.
Q: I am 63 years old. Finding out I’m autistic was the greatest relief of my life. I have a anti-kink question I guess. I have been married multiple times. One of my exes, while we were still married, decided she wanted to “spice things up” and bought an outfit, wig and put “the play” into motion. When I’m mid-session, I concentrate on making my partner happy, because hey it’s easy to get me there. I looked up and for a moment I did not recognize her and the wave of guilt and shame that ran over me was overwhelming. You see, in that instant I was cheating on my wife with a total stranger. She saw the panic in my face, stopped, turned on the light and we had “the talk”. She laughed and said “at least I know you’re not going to cheat”. My question is, is there a name for my anti-cheat thing?
Cate Osborn: What an experience! First, let me say that your reaction is completely valid and understandable, especially considering the ways that neurodivergent brains often process identity, intimacy, and trust.
To answer your question directly, there isn’t a formal term for “not wanting to cheat.” However, I chose your question this week because it’s a PERFECT example of how even the most well-meaning partner can inadvertently cause harm, and how understanding how our brains experience and process information not only protects us, but gives us the potential to build stronger and healthier relationships, even after a ‘negative’ experience like this one.
One of the most interesting factors about neurodivergence is how often the experience is like pulling at a loose thread on a sweater- you start with something as simple as “I was startled by my wife in a wig” and the more you pull, the more you wind up unpacking just how interconnected and deeply woven all of our mental and physical processes are. Let’s break it down a little:
One of my favorite “not fun facts” is that many autistic individuals experience challenges with facial recognition. (Me, it’s me, I’m the individual). Around 36–50% of autistic people experience prosopagnosia (a fancy word for face blindness), which makes it harder to recognize people, especially when their appearance changes or in different contexts. Even small shifts, like a wig or makeup, can temporarily make someone feel unfamiliar. If you’ve ever been startled when a loved one comes home with a new haircut or beard trim, dear reader, you get it. In that intimate and vulnerable moment when your ex-wife altered her appearance, your brain might have interpreted it as “stranger danger.”
“Okay, we struggle to recognize faces sometimes”, but then we pull the thread a little more: For many autistic people, loyalty and moral integrity are deeply ingrained values. Rigidity of thought is part of the DSM criteria, and we see this particularly in conversations around ‘justice sensitivity’. In your case, even the momentary perception of violating your personal values—like the brief sense that you were with someone other than your wife—could create an overwhelming emotional response.
PS: You’re going to see me use terms “could” and “might” a lot in the next bit, because I can’t actually tell you WHAT you felt, but I CAN help explain what might have happened.
We pull that thread a liiiiittle more and we run into justice sensitivity and black-and-white thinking. Many Autists think in absolutes, particularly when it comes to our personal ethics. Things may feel entirely “right” or “wrong”, and finding the grey areas can sometimes be particularly challenging. (I know they are for me, at least). Even though you logically knew it was still your ex-wife, the momentary unfamiliarity might have felt like a black-and-white violation of your commitment to monogamy. That split-second misalignment then (maybe) caused your emotional reaction to escalate.
Down down farther into the rabbit hole we go, because heightened emotional or sensory responses are totally normal for Autistic folks. In particular, we tend to feel things very strongly in moments of dysregulation. Intimacy itself can be an emotionally and sensorily intense experience, and when combined with an unexpected costume change or surprise expectation to roleplay, it may have pushed your sensory and emotional system into “oh shit oh fuck” emergency overdrive. Being in emotional overdrive would make your feelings of guilt and shame feel much bigger and more sudden, making them even harder to process in the moment.
That is, of course, with the assumption that you even realized you were feeling those feelings. Another thing to consider is that another common autistic trait is alexithymia, or difficulty identifying and articulating emotions. You might have felt uncomfortable or startled for only a few seconds before you realized what was going on, but because those sensations were unfamiliar, your brain labeled them as “bad feeling = guilt” or “bad feeling = shame”. Annoyingly, many emotions don’t fit into clear specific categories (rude, I know), and it can make experiences like this feel even more confusing when you’re also spending a bunch of emotional energy trying to figure out WHAT the fuck you’re feeling at all.
I want to assure you– your question isn’t “anti-kink”. In fact, I think it’s exactly the opposite. I think it serves as an amazing example of how Autistic brains process identity, intimacy, and trust in ways that might seem ‘weird’ or ‘overthink-y’ to other people.
If this has happened to you, dear reader, or this scenario sounds familiar, I leave you with this advice.
- FUCKING TALK ABOUT IT FIRST. Always, always always discuss boundaries in advance. For some people, neurodivergent or not, roleplay or identity shifts can feel destabilizing, especially if they come as a surprise. Imagine if somebody started calling you ‘daddy’ in the middle of sex having never talked about it before. Hot for some, absolutely weird for others. Both are okay, but having a conversation beforehand to set clear expectations can set everyone up for success and have their needs and expectations met. Side note- have it outside of the bedroom, and in a time frame that doesn’t put immediate pressure on your partner to say yes.
- You don’t have to say yes: It’s okay to feel uncomfortable with certain scenarios, even if they’re playful or consensual. Again, some people love being “daddy”, others feel really icky about it. Your emotional response is valid and worth respecting. If you are truly, deeply uncomfortable, a healthy and respectful partner will respect your ‘no’, and you can both work to find other activities or scenarios that work better for you.
- Start Small: If you’re open to exploring roleplay again, consider starting with smaller or less drastic changes. You don’t have to go full costume/wig/production values- start with just calling each other by a different name or title, or looking into lists of roleplay scenarios that appeal.
- Don’t forget to keep checking in: it is okay if you’re in the middle of a roleplay scene and you change your mind. It’s okay to say ‘no’ to something, do a little research and come back and say ‘actually, maybe I DO want you to call me daddy, lets try it and see how we feel’. Keeping the lines of communication open and active before, during and after intimacy are the most surefire way to keep things healthy and un-scary in the bedroom.
I’m sorry this happened to you. Moments like this are so common and they can be difficult to navigate through, but I am so proud of you for writing and naming this experience and wanting to know more about yourself and your brain, and THANK YOU for giving me the opportunity to use this one to teach others as well.
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