There’s nothing quite like a good cattle drive!!

"I keep a close watch on this heart of mine

I keep my eyes wide open all the time

I keep the ends out for the tie that binds"

I walk the line (1956), Johny Cash

“I’ve always thought of romantic relationships as being like a Western.” Eduardo, a pseudonym, aged 58, smiles before finishing his sentence. “When we least expect it, someone shoots us in the back.” He laughs again, but this time the smile lasts only a few seconds. “Things seem to be going well, but danger is always lurking. The difference is that, in films, that suspenseful music starts playing and we know something’s about to happen. In real life, there’s no soundtrack. We only realise we’ve been hit once we’re already on the ground.”

The metaphor may seem exaggerated to anyone who has never experienced seeking intimacy whilst being autistic. For many autistic adults, however, it describes with surprising accuracy what it means to get close to someone. Not because love is inevitably painful, but because many of the rules that govern relationships seem invisible, unpredictable and often contradictory.

Falling in love has never been simply a matter of finding the right person. It involves interpreting glances, distinguishing interest from mere politeness, knowing when to press on and when to back off, understanding irony, deciphering ambiguous messages, dealing with subtle rejections, surviving the silence after days of intense conversation, and accepting that there isn’t always a logical explanation for human behaviour.

For many autistic people, this reality is like entering a Wild West town without a map, without knowing the local rules and without being able to tell who is an ally, who is indifferent and who poses a real danger.

The desire to love has never been in question

For decades, one of the most unfair myths about autism persisted: the idea that autistic people do not desire romantic relationships or that they prefer to live in isolation. Today we know that this idea is profoundly wrong.

Most autistic adults wish to form meaningful romantic relationships, seek emotional intimacy, dream of starting a family or simply of finding someone with whom to share their life. The desire is there. What often differs is the path needed to get there.

Many autistic people describe love as a deeply intense experience. When they feel safe, they tend to invest heavily in the relationship, valuing honesty, predictability, loyalty and authenticity. They do not seek emotional games or complex seduction strategies. They look for someone who says what they mean and means what they say. Unfortunately, the world of dating doesn’t always work that way.

The paradox of dating apps

Dating apps emerged as an almost perfect solution. At first, they seemed to solve many of the challenges faced by autistic people. It was no longer necessary to approach a stranger in a noisy bar. There was no longer any need to immediately interpret facial expressions, body language or ambiguous social cues. It was possible to take your time replying. To think before writing. To reread the message. To delete it. To rewrite it. To ask directly what you wanted to know. To get to know someone before the first face-to-face meeting. For many autistic people, this structure significantly reduces social anxiety. Written communication offers a greater sense of control and reduces the sensory overload that accompanies many social contexts. But the other side of the coin soon becomes apparent.

The digital Wild West

Dating apps are also a realm where the rules are rarely explicit. There’s ‘ghosting’, when someone disappears without any explanation.

There is ‘breadcrumbing’, when someone maintains small interactions solely to keep the other person interested, with no real intention of building a relationship. There is ‘love bombing’, where intense displays of affection and idealisation occur very early on, only to be replaced later by withdrawal, manipulation or control. There are fake profiles.

Lies. Power games. Constant ambiguity. Sudden changes in behaviour. For someone whose understanding of the world is often based on coherence, logic and predictability, this environment can be extraordinarily draining. It is not uncommon for a person on the autism spectrum to try to rationally understand something that, in reality, has never had a rational explanation.

“I spend hours trying to work out where I went wrong.”

“She replied to me for two weeks. She seemed interested. We spoke every day. I started to feel that finally someone actually enjoyed talking to me. Then she simply stopped replying. Not even a goodbye. I spent days re-reading all the messages to work out where I’d gone wrong. I still don’t know to this day.”

“I never know when someone is genuinely interested.”

“Sometimes people say I’m sweet, friendly and different. I think they like me. Then I realise they were just being polite after all. Other times, the exact opposite happens. It’s only months later that I find out someone was interested in me and I never realised.”

“I get tired of it.”

“Everyone says I just need to be myself. But when I’m completely open, they say I’m too intense. When I try to tone down what I say, I feel like I’m playing a part. After a while, I just get tired.”

When should I disclose my diagnosis?

One of the most difficult decisions for many autistic adults is when to disclose their diagnosis. Is it better to mention it straight away in your profile? Wait until the first date? Only mention it once trust has been established? There is no one-size-fits-all answer. Some people report that mentioning autism from the outset acts as a healthy filter. Anyone who reacts with prejudice would probably not be a compatible partner. Others prefer the other person to get to know them first, before associating their identity with a diagnosis that is often surrounded by stereotypes. Both strategies can work. Both involve risks. Both require courage.

An often-overlooked vulnerability

There is another aspect that is less frequently discussed. Several studies suggest that autistic adults are more vulnerable to abusive relationships, emotional manipulation, coercion and exploitation. Not because they are naive. Nor because they are incapable of understanding human behaviour. But because they often assume that others communicate with the same honesty that they themselves practise. When someone says ‘trust me’, many autistic people tend to believe them. When someone promises to get in touch again, they expect that to happen. When someone says they like them, they assume those words reflect how they really feel. Unfortunately, this is not always the case.

The invisible weight of repeated rejection

Everyone experiences rejection. But for many autistic adults, rejection does not occur in isolation. It builds up. It begins in childhood. It continues into adolescence. It is repeated in friendships. It is repeated in professional contexts. It is often repeated in the search for romantic relationships. Every silence received on a dating app represents more than just an interrupted conversation. It can trigger decades of past experiences of exclusion, misunderstanding and isolation. That is why what may seem to one person like a simple digital disappearance can, for another, become a painful confirmation of the idea that they will never be good enough for anyone.

What could make these platforms more inclusive?

Autistic adults themselves have suggested concrete changes. Profiles that allow users to describe sensory needs, preferred forms of communication and relationship expectations. Simple guides on respectful communication. Tools to reduce abusive behaviour. Greater transparency regarding relationship intentions. Spaces that value shared interests rather than just photographs. Small changes could significantly reduce anxiety, increase a sense of safety and foster more authentic connections.

Perhaps the problem was never the cowboy

Perhaps Eduardo is right. Romantic relationships may seem like a cowboy film. But perhaps the real problem was never the Wild West. Perhaps it was that we taught too many people to shoot before listening. To walk away before explaining.

To interpret authenticity as strangeness. To confuse vulnerability with weakness. People on the autism spectrum aren’t looking for perfect love. They’re looking for something much simpler. Someone who, instead of drawing their gun first, is curious enough to sit by the campfire. Because, after all, love should never be a cowboy showdown. It should be a place where we finally no longer need to wear armour.

“I spent years trying to seem mysterious because people said that was attractive. I discovered that pretending to be a mystery is much more exhausting than being transparent.”

“By the tenth profile, I can no longer tell people apart. By the twentieth conversation, I’m already responding almost automatically. By the third time I’ve been ghosted that week, I start to wonder if it’s even worth reinstalling the app.”

“Some people come into our lives like gunslingers. Others arrive like someone lighting a fire. They make no noise. They don’t promise to save us. They just stay. And, for the first time, we realise that, after all, not every town in the Wild West was built for war.”

If, on your next visit to the ‘West’, you think it would be a good idea to take a few tips to make your journey more enjoyable, consider the following.

Survival guide for a romantic cowgirl/boy adventure

Not all speed means love.

Someone who shows great intensity in the early stages may be genuinely enthusiastic, but they may also be creating an artificially accelerated connection. Healthy relationships build trust over time.

Someone who disappears without explanation is also communicating.

Silence can be deeply painful, especially for those trying to understand what has happened. Even so, ghosting conveys an important message: that person was unable to communicate with you in a respectful way. That says more about them than it does about your worth.

Don’t interpret every ambiguity as your fault.

Many neurotypical people also struggle to understand the world of modern dating. Not all ambiguous behaviour hides a mistake on your part.

Don’t hide who you are indefinitely.

Masking might make a first date easier, but no relationship can grow on the basis of a persona maintained for months on end. True intimacy begins when we no longer need to put on an act.

Trust patterns more than words.

Words stir emotions. Patterns provide protection. Someone who says they like you but repeatedly disappears is demonstrating behaviour that is more reliable than any declaration.

Don’t settle for less respect just because you’re afraid of returning to loneliness.

The need to belong should never justify relationships where there is manipulation, humiliation or control.

“I asked him again if he still believed in love.” “Of course I do,” he replied immediately. “Then why do you keep calling it a wild ride?” Eduardo was silent for a few seconds. “Because I keep going into the city.” Perhaps that is the greatest proof of courage. Never ceasing to believe that, somewhere amidst all that dust, all that noise and all those stray shots, there is someone who is also simply looking for a peaceful place where they can finally lay down their weapons.