Why I’ll Never Force Eye Contact Again—And You Shouldn’t Either

Bridgette Hamstead

For much of my life, I was told that eye contact was a fundamental part of communication. Like many autistic people, I grew up being corrected, reminded, and even pressured to “look people in the eyes” when speaking. Teachers, family members, and even well-meaning friends insisted that eye contact was a sign of respect, engagement, and sincerity. They told me that without it, I appeared uninterested or even rude. I absorbed these lessons and forced myself to comply, believing that if I could master eye contact, I would finally fit in, be understood, and be seen as socially competent. But forcing eye contact was never natural, and the more I tried, the more I realized how much harm it was causing me.

For many autistic people, eye contact is not a comfortable or necessary part of communication. It can be distracting, overwhelming, or even painful. Some describe it as physically uncomfortable, like staring into a bright light or being forced to hold an awkward, rigid posture for an extended period. Others experience eye contact as an intense sensory demand that makes it difficult to focus on what is being said. While neurotypical individuals may see eye contact as a natural way to connect, for many autistic people, it is an intrusive and unnecessary expectation that detracts from their ability to communicate effectively.

Despite this, the demand for eye contact is deeply ingrained in social norms and expectations. Many cultures place a high value on direct eye contact, associating it with honesty, confidence, and attentiveness. In professional settings, eye contact is often seen as a measure of credibility and engagement. Job interviews, presentations, and even casual workplace conversations come with an unspoken rule that maintaining eye contact is essential to being taken seriously. In educational environments, children who avoid eye contact are frequently viewed as inattentive or disrespectful, leading to unnecessary corrections, punishments, or assumptions about their ability to understand or participate. These expectations are built on neurotypical standards of communication, disregarding the fact that different people process and express engagement in different ways.

When I forced myself to maintain eye contact, it drained my energy and made conversations more difficult rather than easier. Instead of being able to focus on what was being said, my attention was split between processing the words and managing the intense discomfort of sustained eye contact. I found myself overanalyzing every movement of my gaze, wondering if I was looking too much, too little, or in the wrong way. The mental strain of performing this neurotypical expectation took away from my ability to actually engage in conversations. Rather than making me appear more present, forcing eye contact actually disconnected me from the interaction itself.

Over time, I began to question why eye contact was considered so essential. If I could listen, respond, and fully engage without looking directly into someone’s eyes, why was I being told that my communication was wrong? I started to notice that when I was allowed to look away, focus on a neutral point, or close my eyes while speaking, I was able to communicate far more effectively. My thoughts were clearer, my words came more easily, and I felt more connected to the conversation because I was no longer spending so much energy on something that was unnatural for me. I realized that my ability to communicate had nothing to do with where I was looking. It had everything to do with how I was allowed to exist in the conversation without being forced to perform neurotypical behaviors at the expense of my comfort and cognitive processing.

The idea that eye contact is necessary for meaningful communication is based on assumptions rather than actual necessity. Many autistic people engage best when they are allowed to look away, fidget, or use alternative forms of expression. Some may focus on a person’s mouth instead of their eyes. Others may listen intently while gazing at a neutral object or a specific point in space. Some communicate most effectively when allowed to close their eyes, process their thoughts, and then respond. None of these alternatives diminish the quality of communication, yet they are often discouraged because they do not fit neurotypical social norms.

Understanding that eye contact is not universally beneficial can lead to a shift in how we approach communication, particularly in professional, educational, and social settings. Employers should recognize that an employee’s ability to contribute is not determined by their ability to sustain eye contact. Teachers should stop demanding that students “look at them” in order to show they are paying attention. Parents should reconsider whether forcing their autistic children to make eye contact is truly helping them communicate or simply adding another layer of discomfort and stress. Eye contact should never be treated as a requirement for participation, understanding, or social connection. Instead, individuals should be allowed to engage in ways that feel natural and effective for them.

Since deciding to stop forcing eye contact, I have noticed a profound difference in my well-being. Conversations feel easier, my thoughts flow more freely, and I no longer carry the weight of trying to perform a behavior that does not align with how my brain processes interaction. I also no longer judge myself for looking away, staring at a neutral point, or using alternative methods to show engagement. In letting go of the pressure to conform to neurotypical communication standards, I have given myself permission to exist in conversations as I am, rather than as I am expected to be.

I will never again force eye contact, and I will never expect others to do so either. If communication is about connection and understanding, then it should be based on what actually works for the individual, not on rigid social rules that exclude those who process the world differently. It is time to move away from outdated expectations and recognize that effective communication comes in many forms. Forcing eye contact does not create connection. Allowing people to engage in ways that work for them does.